Welcome back to the show. Listen, I think I need to clarify some remarks I made. For some reason, some people get all bent out of shape when you mention Adolf Hitler.
Look: I’m not saying that Barack Obama is exactly like Adolf Hitler. That would be insane! I just think he does certain things that resemble things Hitler also did. They both eat. Are you aware of that? You won’t hear the liberal media talk about that, but it’s true!
And how about the logo for Obama’s health care plan? It looks almost swastika-esque, in my opinion.
Not overtly, of course. No one would come right out and make a logo that looks like a swastika–not even the O-bum-a administration. No, they’re too subtle and sneaky for that. You have to stare at this thing for a while before it becomes apparent. Really stare at it. For like, five hours. Then smack yourself upside the head and pop three Vicodin. And throw some salt in your eyes.
It’s amazing, isn’t it? The Obamas make me jump through all these hoops so I can see their Nazi imagery. I have to sit around and do all this work, just to it will resemble something evil. Is there anything they won’t stoop to?
Know what else I’ve been noticing? Nancy Pelosi looks an awful lot like Joseph Goebbels. Again, this is not something you would notice at first glance. Or second. Or third, or tenth, or seven hundred and twenty-fifth. It takes a truly keen intellect like mine, with the mental stamina to squint at the same thing for several hours without blinking. And to do so after ingesting a fistful of Percocet.
Not to mention, this golden microphone that I use, it looks a lot like the torch wielded by the runner in Leni Riefenstahl’s Olympia. Maybe this is the same torch hoisted in that film. Yes! I am sure of it!
And the receiver of this phone, it looks just like the talons of a fierce Nazi creature called the Jar-Lock! Half-man, half-animal, and 100 percent killing machine! Hitler bred it especially to spread the foul stench of socialized medicine! It haunts my dreams! Sometimes Jar-Lock tries to attack me in broad daylight, emerging from the shadows and returning there just as quickly! You may not have heard of this beast, because it might only exist in my head!
And when I stare in the mirror for a really long time, I can convince myself that my greasy, slicked-back hair actually looks presentable, instead of making me look like a 400-pound Gordon Gekko.
And when I see the fine layer of gelatinous sweat that limns my forehead, it looks to me like something women might find attractive, rather than the sign of a morbidly obese land monster who gets winded while chewing.
Coming up on the program, I’ll slam a few OxyContin, choke back the self loathing churning in my stomach, and find several new ways to shoehorn the phrase “anal poisoning” into my rant!
