Once upon a time, my wife and I were sitting down to Sunday dinner at my parents' in Baton Rouge. It was Labor Day weekend, and the Jerry Lewis MDA telethon was on the Magnavox in the living room.
I always was fond of the Jerry Lewis telethon, and I'd always call in to make a donation. Sitting there at the table, I think I made the mistake of asking my old man -- not a fan -- whether he was going to contribute.
What followed was a seemingly deranged rant about people in wheelchairs who were armed to the teeth and ready to commit Swiss cheese against the rest of us. The missus and I weren't as good at the poker face then as we are now.
In other words, we burst out laughing. Trouble is, the old man was serious, and now he was really pissed.
"You might have book learnin'," he thundered, "but I got common sense!"
And then he didn't speak to us for weeks.
You got it. "He may have book learnin', but I got common sense!"
Thanks a lot, Bobby.
But at least I do have common sense enough that -- if I were that sorry sack of s*** (the Jindal sorry sack of s***, not the Donald Trump sorry sack of s***) -- I would just hide in a deep hole somewhere and not say anything. I do think I'd possess enough self-awareness not to write an op-ed in the Wall Street Freakin' Journal saying I was going to vote for a guy I once called "a madman who must be stopped."
The Republican Party deserves every horrible thing that's going to happen to it. But for Gunga Spin, every horrible thing wouldn't be nearly enough.
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