Friday, March 21, 2014

Mr. Cope’s Cave: Et Tu, Douche?

Posted By on Fri, Mar 21, 2014 at 11:30 AM

Hey Mitt Romney, you sanctimonious horse’s ass, let me start by saying how God! Damn! Glad! I am that you are not the president of these United States, now or ever after.

A couple of weeks ago, shortly after this crud in the Ukraine kicked into high gear, John McCain presented me with the opportunity to say pretty much the same thing to him. I addressed him as a “manic-depressive old fart” instead of a “sanctimonious horse’s ass.” But other than that, the message was exactly the same—that we Americans are sooooooooo lucky to not have a blow-hard dim-wit like him (or you) running the show, and never is that luck more evident than at a time like this, when international tensions are running high.

Now, I wouldn’t be writing this if you had done what a smarter loser than yourself would have done, which would be to accept the reality that you lost to a much better man, shut the hell up and go away. But neither you nor McCain seem capable of losing gracefully, or behaving in any way other than what made you the losers in the first place.

(And I don’t even want to get into how hard your wife seems to have taken your defeat. Judging by how often she has shown up on some talk show or another, bitching about how you would be a better president than Obama, it’s evident she really, really, really, really, really, really wanted to be First Lady. Maybe you could buy her a bake shop to putter around in. Or maybe another dancing horse. Anything to take her mind off her shattered dreams, huh?)

But back to you, Mitt (you twit). Here we are, in the middle of a confrontation with that macho shitheel Putin, and you have to get your two-cents in about how this is all Obama’s fault. In case anybody following this conversation hasn’t heard, the Wall Street Journal (otherwise known as Rupert Murdock’s favorite toilet paper) printed on Monday a guest opinion by you that accused the president (otherwise known as the guy who kicked your ass) of succumbing to “analysis paralysis, weighing trends and forecasts and choices beyond the time of opportunity.”

In short, Mitt (you flea), you object to Mr. Obama thinking before he acts, and in doing so, you’ve firmly embedded yourself in that slobbering pack who has since its first day in office behaved like hyenas trying to take down a lion. With some ugly glasses, a little more rouge and a skanky skirt, you and Sarah Palin could pass for sisters.

That’s not to say you didn’t take a stab at coming across as something more than the wiffle ball you are. The following is my favorite example of you trying to sound like a thoughtful, profound sort of guy: “In foreign affairs as in life, there is, as Shakespeare had it, ’a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and miseries.’”

All in all, Mitt (you gumby-ass creep), you and the rest of the apes who constitute the GOP opinion sump, insist that everything Obama has done in foreign relations has weakened and humiliated America, and that his weakness and fecklessness have led directly to this Russian dick stealing Crimea from under the noses of the Western alliances. You offer no alternatives as to what should have been done earlier to prevent this theft, other than the exact same actions Obama is taking now and likely was taking from the beginning. And you offer no resolutions to the crisis other than that Obama should have seen it coming.

In other words, you’re just blowing sour grapes gas out your ass, hoping that being a whiny puke somehow makes you look more like a leader than the man-joke America rejected in 2012.

Well here’s the deal, Mitt (you bloated tick on the underbelly of America): All that crap about how “a tide in the affairs of men ... taken at the flood leads on to fortune,” that is, I’ve no doubt, exactly how Putin sees his own dickery in the Ukraine. In fact, your statement, “Able leaders anticipate events, prepare for them and act in time to shape them,” could have come directly from Putin’s chinless mouth.

So here’s how it looks to me, Mitt (you irritating drone masquerading as a man): That WSJ opinion of yours was nothing more than Mitt Romney strutting through the shallow end of the brain pool, shirtless, flexing his mighty mouth like Putin flexes his flabby pecs, and pretending that pulling off a leveraged buy-out of a struggling company in Ohio shows he has the balls to go toe-to-toe with an egomaniacal prick with nuclear weapons.

Of course, the big difference between you and your brother huffer-puffer in Moscow is that, as an old KBG agent, Putin might have actually seen some action, while you were in France eating snails, trying to turn perfectly fine French people into Mormons, and, most of all, getting your pampered butt out of getting drafted and sent to Vietnam.

By the way, Mitt (you worm), I suspect your knowledge of literature runs about as deep as your sympathy for non-salaried employees and the family dog, so I no more believe you came up with that Shakespeare citation yourself than I believe you write your own editorials. I imagine you keep a portfolio of self-serving quotes on leadership next to your portfolio of women and your portfolio of corporations that are people, too.

Yet that particular quote is fitting in ways I doubt you are aware of. Had you any curiosity about what character said that line and in what play, you might have discovered it came from Julius Ceasar, and was spoken by Brutus, one of the greatest cowards in history and literature, shortly after that worm stabbed a much better man in the back.

But then, you couldn’t even do that right.

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