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Over at Tucker Carlson’s Daily Caller, the newspinion comes in two flavors: stories lifted whole from another source, usually the AP, or stories lifted whole from another source and leavened with innuendo and schoolyard-quality satire, such as replacing the “r”s in a Barney Frank quote with “w”s in an effort to make him sound like more like a homosexual.  Of course, as even the most dull-witted gay-basher knows, you counterfeit a lisp by replacing the “s” with the “th” sound; Tucker’s method only succeeds in making Frank sound like Barbara Walters, which is unpleasant, but tends to render pointless the cascade of anal sex jokes that inevitably follow.  (Unless he’s deliberately evoking an image of buggering Barbara Walters trapped in the body of Rep. Barney Frank, in which case Tucker is publicly acting out a far more elaborate fantasy life than I would have given him credit for.)

Anyway, lately the lads over at the DC have been on a sniggering jihad against Michelle Obama’s program to stem childhood obesity. I’m not clear on the source of their outrage, but I assume Tucker and other select members of his class believe that A Modest Proposal is the next logical step in the evolution of our tax code, and he doesn’t want his larder filled with a tithing of tough and stringy infants.  After all, if the underclass in this country can’t produce plump, tender, and sweet offspring whose every cell bursts with flavor and high fructose corn syrup, then they don’t deserve our noblesse oblige, although you can still turn the chewier cuts of children into baby jerky and store it in your bomb shelter or mountain aerie as a hedge against nuclear winter or peasant uprising.

But the thing which appears to steam Tucker most about the First Lady’s efforts is her rank hypocrisy, since an undercover sting operation by Daily Caller investigative reporters has revealed that Mrs. Obama is secretly obese.

I appreciate Tucker’s Madonna-like ability to continually reinvent himself, from George F. Will-manqué, to cable news carbuncle, to sinkhole on the information superhighway.  But I have a feeling that his efforts to ride around like the and bleach rap songs is going to end up the same way his stint on Dancing With The Stars did, although it will probably leave his closet clogged with fewer Capezio pumps and Lycra tops with pearl snap details and sequin knit collars.

(By the way, if you check out the video, look for beloved character actor George Cisar, playing a working class stiff who is turned ultra white as he leans against a panel truck that says “FOX.”)

20 Responses to “Tucker Hates Big Butts And He Cannot Lie”

Unless he’s deliberately evoking an image of buggering Barbara Walters trapped in the body of Rep. Barney Frank, in which case Tucker is publicly acting out a far more elaborate fantasy life than I would have given him credit for.

*reaching for brain bleach*

As Wikipedia puts it, “Wit is a form of intellectual humour, and a wit is someone skilled in making witty remarks. Someone skilled in making halfway witty remarks is a halfwit; e.g., Tucker Carlson.”

It suddenly occurs to me that I’ve been ignoring the Daily Caller.

I think I’m gonna go back to doing that.

If he weren’t such a creepy little freak, I’d sum it up by saying that Fucktard Carlson has a bad case of Jungle Fever… not that BEING a creepy little misogynistic twerp freak is mutually exclusive of Jungle Fever, but with this icky bastard, I worry that it’s a whooooole other perversion of “miscegenation.”

Maybe he’s obsessed with Michelle Obama’s “big” (ha!) ass because he grew up with a sexy black housekeeper/nanny, but the concept of throwing Barney Frank into the mix (most likely b/c he couldn’t think of any OTHER gay person whilst blathering, OR, maybe Barney is *his* kinda man…) says that maybe the bowtied little bastard is more than a little “bi-curious.”

If only life worked like movies… we could sic Blackula AND Pam Grier on his puckered lily-white ass!

Tucker Carlson is a human tapeworm. I drew a cartoon of him as a tapeworm with a bowtie, and now I’m done thinking about him. Michelle Obama is hot. If there was any chance he would have me, I would cheerfully do Barney Frank, too, because smart is totally sexy. But holy cow, his accent is weird enough only a dipshit would attempt to upwit it.

Instead, I have issues with Chris Matthews. He looks like a tulip tree in late summer. He’s all yellow, unpleasantly shiny, and slightly sticky. I am forced to conclude he would look better if he had aphids, and that his agent should look into that.

D., if you can scan your caricatures, please send them over. I think Wo’C would benefit greatly from hosting a Thomas Nastian gallery in which wingnut nuisances are depicted as parasites with with weird affectations.

I’m having trouble with the liver fluke. They don’t have anything to hold a gun with. I may put it on hold for a while to email Chris Matthews and suggest aphids.

(Also, please be aware I do not have any skills as an artist, and am hallucinating more or less continually, so it’s possible I only *think* I drew Tucker Carlson as a tapeworm and actually have drawn some trees. I keep getting stuck on trees lately. It’s equally possible I only think I’m typing this, and what you guys are seeing is some version of the gun shop guy in Dawn of the Dead after he gets zombified and holds up a new “message” for the guys on the mall roof. In which case you wouldn’t see me saying that. This is starting to go infinite regression here.)

If Dr Mike’s vomit-pile was published on Tucker’s dumpster site, it might well become a sort of black-hole of “conservatard opinion” and continue to suck in all the other conservative winger sites, getting denser and denser and more radioactive (& wingnut radiation is much worse than nuclear fallout). Then, when it reaches a certain Mass …. ssssslllurrrrrp! In goes Fox news, with Beck, O’Riley, Hannity, and YES! Rupert Murdick along with it.

… and then it collapses in upon itself and appears in another string universe… a universe where people shit with their mouthes and talk thru their assholes. “I’m Home!” Dr. Mike/Beck/Murdoch will cry, acid tears pouring out of their -um- belly buttons?

Hey, make fun of that dipshit weasel all you want, but don’t knock bowties. Bowties are cool.

Hey, what’d weasels ever do to you? :-)

KWillow, although I’m told sound doesn’t travel in the vacuum of space, I can almost hear the sucking sound the event you describe would make. And it gives me a happy.

And the thought of Tucker Carlson on DwtS calls to mind that memorable scene from “Pink Flamingos” in which one of the characters is a dancing asshole.

In a life full to bursting with uncertainty, dubiety, and doubt, it’s somehow comforting to know that, without exception, anytime someone says “Psychologists refer to x as ‘y’” he will have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

It is somehow comforting to think of one’s enemies as broken somehow, as people who would be thoughtful reasonable and agreeable if they just got some help. Sadly I am forced to conclude that this is not the case and that some people are just plain assholes and that they have worked long and hard to achieve that. In the same way it would diminish the accomplishments of a champion power napper to accuse them of narcolepsy, it diminishes the accomplishments of a first class asshole to blame them on Asperger’s syndrome, sociopathy or tertiary syphilis, no matter how tempting the diagnosis appears. I for one honor the work of pioneering asshole Tucker Carlson’s work in expanding the field of small minded bigotry, mean-spiritedness and spite, knowing that all he has achieved, he has achieved by the flop sweat of his brow and the work of his soft, clammy, ‘never seen an honest day’s work in his entire goddamn life’ hands

“Hey, what’d weasels ever do to you?”

Nothing. But a “dipshit weasel” killed my father and called my mother a rude name. The weasel happened to be wearing a bowtie at the time, but that’s neither here nor there.

The bowtie is the only thing about Tucker Carlson that performs a useful function: it stops the foreskin crawling up his neck.

Maybe he’s obsessed with Michelle Obama’s “big” (ha!) ass because he grew up with a sexy black housekeeper/nanny

Well, you see, Tucker was just a skinny lad, never knew no good from bad, but he knew love before he left his nursery…

The last thing any person of sensibility would want to do is demur from criticism of Tucker, but maybe he was trying to make fun of Barney Frank’s Mass accent rather than of his orientation. Which would still be worthy of a snippy 10-year-old wannabe Draco Malfoy, lounging around the playground with his thuggish sycophants, but slightly less repulsive. ‘Sokay, he more than makes up for it with the “back of her skirt” remark. I wonder if he really considers himself a serious political commentator

Of course, as even the most dull-witted gay-basher knows, you counterfeit a lisp by replacing the “s” with the “th” sound;

As a demonstration of just how dull-witted Tucker is, you just can’t beat this; he’s dimly aware that he’s supposed to mimic the speech of a Warner Brothers cartoon character, but can’t remember whether it’s Sylvester the Cat or Elmer Fudd.

Carlson’s ass is twice as wide as Michelle’s.

Something to say?