“We need segregated buses.” – Rush Limbaugh, Sep. 16, 2009
Thus begins, via both surviving-but-dessicated brain cells skittering around Rush’s Oxycontinized noggin like chipped Tic Tacs, the New Racisim™. Borrowing from Rover’s playbook, Rush the Racist accuses others of racism to take them off the scent. I think he prefers brown people remain in their native lands, rather than live here. His Viagara-laced sex trips to the Dominican Republic reflect that, I think.
Rush is a fearful, delicate hothouse flower of a creature. He would never have the courage to run for office and serve the people. He is a weakling who hides behind a microphone – do they make mics that enormous? – shuddering in terror within his echo chamber that he’ll have to talk to anyone other than a dittohead.
He knows that the days are numbered for racist sociopath drug addicts, and he’s floppin’ like a Crappie outta water, as my people say back in Minnesota.