Open Letter: Rush Limbaugh

Dear Fat Piece of Shit,

Let's not pretend I'm going to be civil. Being civil with a guy like you is like tying myself to your car and running alongside in good faith you'll not get on the highway.

It takes a big man to mimic children who are afraid to die from gun violence. Thankfully, your weight class qualifies you. Yeah, I'm taking cheap shots, but calling you Fat Piece of Shit feels so appropriate that every time I call you Fat Piece of Shit, I feel the world's economy get stronger.

Saying shocking shit that 1) makes no logical sense, and 2) you know will rile the feathers of liberals, gets you higher ratings. That's your shtick; I get it. You say something to taunt the other side and when the other side rebuts, your listeners have more reason to tune in because you're the fucking martyr. Poor Fat Piece of Shit, put upon by those lefty fucking idiots.

Well this lefty fucking idiot has an idea. I know you're hesitant to hear it, but I promise it's worth reading on. You'll like it.

You should go on a tour of elementary schools and perform your I'm-a-scared-whiny-child-who-doesn't-want-to-get-shot impression for the children and parents. Put your face where your mouth is and teach these fucking pansy-ass kids something about nutting the fuck up. Walk in with spurs on your Reeboks, a silver belt buckle large enough to hold back your stomach, and say, "Listen up, you lot of fucking softies. The President can't help you. No one can help you but you. So nut up and grow a pair, you pathetic second graders!" Maybe shoot a couple of rounds from a semi-automatic over the children's heads to help desensitize them to the look and sound of guns. Something like that. You can broadcast live from the school so your listeners can bask in the thundering applause you'll get in response to your children-are-fucking-crybabies-who-complain-to-the-President approach.

When the parents, moved to tears, come to you afterwards to shake your hand and thank you for turning their little Sarah, little Sarah who's been a little bitch for all six of her years, into a little Jason Bourne, you can get back on your bus, headed for the next city, and know you're making a difference. A fat piece of shit difference.

Good luck on tour,

Whack-A-Muse