Kicking Gingrich While He's Down Because Why the Fuck Not?:
And so it was that on May 2, 2012, one of the most disgusting, spitting pustules in the vile recent history of the diseased American body politick finally decided that he had had enough of people despising him in public. Yes, Newt Gingrich realized that his quest for the presidency was so quixotic that Sancho Panza would have just stabbed himself in the heart to avoid it.
So, like the complete debased cocksucker that he is, the kind of bloated, herpes-ridden old dude you find in the bathrooms of shitty bars, begging you through the glory hole in the stall wall to let him blow you just so he can feel something akin to being wanted, Gingrich of course ended his campaign with a head-slappingly self-aggrandizing piece of delusional stream of consciousness that seemed more like the rantings of someone who had had acid slipped into his Metamucil.
Seriously, check out this line, which comes after a long tangent on how awesome it'd be to mine asteroids and travel in space and how the nation oughta support that shit: "I happen to think that's a better future than methamphetamine and cocaine, and I'm going to argue for a romantic American future of doing things that matter that get to the human spirit." There's your choices, America: moon colonies or crack. What do you choose, you pathetic, Obama/socialism-loving losers?
Like he was trying to become the yam queen of the country farm festival, Gingrich explained his whole life's purpose: "This August, it will be 54 years that I have worked essentially on three things. One, what does America need to do to be free, safe and prosperous? Two, how would you explain that to the American people so they gave you permission to do what is needed? And three, how would you implement the change if the American people gave you permission?"
Which means, essentially, that two out of three of his goals involve how amazing it would be to be a leader and the first one is bullshit since his political accomplishments actually led to the rightward swing of the Congress, which has led quite conspicuously to less freedom and prosperity. So that means that he has failed miserably at his entire adult life, which, if you think about it, is pretty patently obvious.
And then he talked about his shitty movies and a children's book character: "Callista and I have done seven documentaries. She's entered the author phase of trying to lead and educate with Sweet Land of Liberty, in which Ellis the Elephant introduces 4-to-8-year-olds to American history in an effort to fill the vacuum left by all too many modern educators." Read that as: "Please buy our shit. Callista won't let me pretend she's me while I fuck her ass if I have to close the credit line at Tiffany's."
When he started the speech, he thanked fucking everyone, including billionaire Sheldon Adelson, who, as Gingrich proudly said, "single-handedly came pretty close to matching Romney's super PAC." Bought and paid for by a single man, motherfuckers. It's like he's the Michelangelo of politics, with his Medicis paying him to paint a Sistine Chapel from pigments made of shit.
Then there was this one, which said everything you needed to know about his campaign: "I also want to thank Herman Cain, who was tremendous in campaigning for us, particularly on Super Tuesday; and Michael Reagan who campaigned for us, and I think communicated pretty clearly the relationship we had with his dad; and then Todd Palin, who also worked very, very hard."
A failed candidate, a talk radio host, and Sarah Palin's husband? A triumvirate of idiot grifters, two of whom we'd never know about if it wasn't for their horrible relatives. How much more clearly can it be demonstrated that Newt Gingrich's entire reason for entering the race was to squeeze every dollar out of his followers, that it was all a scam, hell's book tour, an excuse to fondle zoo animals?
And how telling that, even with the con in play, he still ends up $4.3 million in debt? How bankrupt does a man have to be before you realize just how bankrupt he is?
Now Newt Gingrich can waddle off to the great junkheap of history, all of his great ideas cast aside, wasting the final years of his worthless life calling out to phantom moon colonies, cursing the people who brought him down, wondering how a man who once reigned like a gluttonous king can die as a punchline of his own making.