Damn You, Lindsay Graham!!!

Oh, how I have often longed to spend the evening at a romantic, candlelit dinner with David Brooks: feeding him both oysters and clams, staring into his hungry eyes, caressing that flaccid chin, stroking his meaty, meaty thigh. But, wouldn't you know, that damned Lindsay Graham has already beaten me to the punch!






Oh well, maybe John Boehner is still available.








Lindsay Graham Gets All the Honeys
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Protect Your Jindaltalia

Just a mere 48 hours ago, you were the Golden Child, the "rising star in the Republican Party," you, Piyush "Bobby" Jindal, were the cock on the walk.

Then you gave that speech and immediately got your balls handed to you.

You left Rachel Maddow impotent:



But everyone else was ready, scalpel in hand.

Dr. Charles Krauthammer, inventor of the "crack baby," said you "didn't have a chance."

Juan Williams called you "childish" and "amateurish".

David Brooks declared your response a "disaster":



Andy Borowitz thanked you for "the gift of laughter."

Andrew Sullivan said you reminded him of Kenneth the Page from 30 Rock. There's this YouTube mash-up saying you are Kenneth the Page from 30 Rock.



Of course, now Kenneth the Page from 30 Rock wants a piece of you, going on Jimmy Fallon, saying you're nothing like him.

Me? I'm more in line with Karen Dalton-Beninato, who thinks you more closely resemble Tim Calhoun.



In the blogosphere, Busted Knuckles over at Ornery Bastard absolutely toasted you over your volcano monitoring dig. While Jon Swift had us laughing raucously over the stench of your burnt flesh.

Folks are clowning you for naming yourself after that lovable, youngest brother from The Brady Bunch. I mean, damn, he was lovable.

Demonizing you because you saved a dear friend with an exorcism. Hell, Sarah Palin had a witch doctor just pray over her. You were being pro-active!

I've even seen some people call you a "self-loathing Indian." Bobby, how can they say that about you? How, Bobby? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! How?!

But don't you listen to them, Bobby. Ignore those slings and arrows. Sure, they scored a direct hit, and now the family jewels are rolling around on the floor ready to be stomped to oblivion by that dastardly liberal media. Wait? What? Krauthammer, Brooks, and Sullivan are all Conservatives? What about Juan Williams? He's a liberal. Could've fooled me. And what was that? Even Laura Ingraham's aimed her stilettos at your stuff? She wasn't the one who said you "walked out like an earnest dork," was she? Or that "he seemed to have somehow figured out a way to speak too quickly and too slow at the same time." No? That was Jim Geraghty. Good, I was worried.

As I said, don't you worry about all those haters, Bobby. Don't you worry about that horrible speech, those flat jokes ("Instead of monitoring volcanoes, what Congress should be monitoring is the eruption of spending in Washington, D.C."--you really should fire your speech writers), ignore those nads of yours skittering across the floor.

After all, the good Nurse Ratched, I mean, Michelle Malkin, is there for you, providing the succor she never would've given the interned Japanese. She'll scoop those bad boys up for you, put them on ice. All you have to do is take some of that stimulus money (we know you're keeping most of that "irresponsible" money, anyway), and go to Dr. "Feelgood" Limbaugh. He'll stitch you up real nice for 2012. And think of the drugs, Bobby! Think of the drugs.



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