What Are We Gonna Do With All This Trash?: Dick!

February 25, 2010

Dick!

I'm not one to anticipate or cheer the death of another human being, but when that person is a war criminal and unrepentant enemy of all things good and true, well... you get my point. I'm just saying that if anyone's soul deserves to spend eternity receiving the very torture he so enthusiastically endorsed for eight years, it's Richard B. Cheney's.

But alas, the very rich of this country can afford the type of health coverage that most cannot. This means that Richard B. Cheney can have five -- count them, FIVE! -- heart attacks and continue on with his life of spreading fear and vitriolic propaganda to any conservative-friendly, top-rated cable news channel that may be interested.

So, to honor the man who apparently doesn't need functioning aortas to live, here are all the jokes about his weak ticker I can think of.

Dick Cheney's heart is so weak, Chris Matthews forgot it was black.

Knock, knock. Who's there? Flatliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.

Cheney's arteries aren't clogged with cholesterol; they're clogged with the black tar residue of pure hatred. (Not funny, but true.)

Dick Cheney's heart doesn't have a pace maker. It has it's own MedicAlert necklace. Hey-Oh!

That's all I could think of. Fuck you, Dick Cheney's heart. Why won't you just fail already?

2 comments:

Scrap Heap Pete said...: Can we add Sen. Jim Bunning (R-Ky) to the "Eat shit and die" list? Is that too harsh?; 5:14 PM
Mike said...: Too harsh? Well, let's take a look at some randomly selected evidence to find out.

According to today's Washington Post, Bunning "blocked passage of legislation last week that would have funded tax credits for health coverage for those who lost their jobs, as well as unemployment benefits and federal highway and transportation projects." This filibuster has been reported to potentially affect more than 400,000 government workers.

Bunning, citing the deficit, which he never cared about under the previous (Republican) administration, explained his action with this: "I have got too many young grandchildren that want America to be the same America that I grew up in. And I'm worried to death that that's not going to be the case."

Jim Bunning: Preventing health care to almost a half a million people because his fucking grandkids want to live in some "Leave It To Beaver" fairytale.

Wow... What. The. Fuck.

I don't think you're being too harsh.; 5:35 PM

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A History Of Trash

Trash, at first, was a pretty cool guy. You know, he’d come over with some beers, and you’d hang out and have a couple of laughs. Maybe Trash brought some weed with him, and you guys tried to sync up Dark Side Of The Moon with The Wizard Of Oz until you remembered you lost your VHS copy of that movie sometime in college and that you fucking hate Pink Floyd. Good times were had, nonetheless.

But then, you don’t know what changed, but Trash started to overstay his welcome. He’d just linger for hours, never taking the hint you wanted him to leave, no matter how many times you yawned obnoxiously or mentioned how early you had to get up tomorrow. Trash just didn’t get it. You were getting older. You didn’t have the time anymore to stay up until 3 a.m. to talk about the Port season of “The Wire” or how much you miss Jawbox. Eventually, you just stopped taking Trash’s phone calls and no longer replied to his group e-mails about sneaking into abandoned mental hospitals.

Last time you saw Trash, he was smoking alone outside a local dive bar, looking down at his decaying and mismatched shoes. You hoped he had been doing well. You hoped he had not been hurt by the disintegration of your friendship. And if he had, you wanted to comfort him. You wanted to tell him that even though people move on with their lives, it doesn’t mean they stop caring. You wanted him to see in your eyes a sincere appreciation for the time you shared, because all the relationships in our lives help make us who we are, and even if you weren’t the best of friends anymore, you wanted him to know that there would always be a piece of Trash in your heart.

But instead, you looked away and crossed the street. You were with your new girlfriend, and you really didn’t want to have to explain Trash to her. She’d never understand.