The Bulls can’t win. Watching them try has been painful. Not just for the injuries. But for the awareness you can’t ask someone to suddenly take on a role they’re not made to fill.
Listen, I run a restaurant with my brother. He’s a back of the house guy. I’m a front of the house guy. We have our roles. Joey’s the superstar. I’m the utility player. Without him, you couldn’t run the restaurant. Without me, you could hire Boozer, scrub off his tattoos, grab an apron and give him English lessons.
Incidentally, that’s what we’re doing at the restaurant. We’re giving classes to a couple of our managers who struggle with English, but are amazing on the floor. I’d call them high-level team players, unlike me. I’m a water boy making an owner’s salary. I’m the Mitt Romney of the restaurant business.
Speaking of spoiled white guys who’ve been handed everything and should shut the hell up, the polls are only close because Mitt’s white. Otherwise, he’s totally incompetent: as a candidate, as a conservative, as a man. What kind of a man needs to hide in a cult? I don’t care if it’s the cult of God or the cult of Guns.
Speaking of unstable fanatics who should lose the right to bear arms, Ted Nugent has gone cowboy hat crazy. There’s a Post-NRA Interview floating around of Ted Nugent where he starts screaming, literally screaming, “I’m a nice guy who takes terminally ill kids fishing. What do you do? Why don’t you tell me what you do? Tell me. TELL ME!!!” Something like that. I didn’t bother transcribing, word for word, because it was so idiotic, I was afraid his words were contagious.
When you start going on and on about what a great guy you are, screaming in a cowboy hat, either you’re on stage in a horrible regional theater rendition of “Danny and the Deep Blue Sea,” or you’re fucking nuts. Listen, pal, the right to bear arms isn’t God Given. It’s a lie. “God Given” is a lie.
Allow me to present…Greg’s Official Ever-Growing List of Clever Lies: Separate But Equal, Compassionate Conservatism, Fiscal Conservative, Nuclear Deterrence, Managed Care, Diet Coke and God Given.
The right to bear arms is a privilege granted by men with parchment. God had nothing to do with it. In fact, God was out bird watching while The Founding Fathers busied themselves by putting on powdered wigs and scribbling on parchment with quills. The Founding Fathers were drag queens. Take that in.
Speaking of which, on the extreme right, they get JT Ready. On the extreme left, we get RuPaul. If you had to choose, what would it be? A psychotic mass-murderer who so desperately wanted to suck a dick, he shot himself in the mouth and swallowed every last drop of death’s unforgiving salty load? Or a drag queen supermodel?
It’s no secret which way Benjamin Franklin liked to swing.