The Grossest of Gross Baboons continues his cross-country tour.
When innocent, good-hearted, well-intentioned, loving people die…way too young…it gives me pause to come back from days of grief to the real world and read a newspaper. There I am accosted by people that should be ashamed of themselves for opening their pie holes and spewing or Tweeting the kind of nonsense that should otherwise have them carving their draggy asses into hell rather than having a prime spot on the media landscape. Must I name names or will that make me equally as evil? Fine. John Sununu. How much longer must we listen to this jerk for? Hasn’t he been on this planet long enough? When we confront an untimely death in the family and watch the outpouring of grief, where over one thousand people attended the funeral of my 34 year old nephew-in-law and it makes me wonder, “Who the hell would come out to stand, sobbing by the wet dirt of John Sununu?” Frankly I don’t care how gross I sound, and if you want to nominate me for Gross Baboon, be my guest. But it will be a much colder day in hell when that jerk goes for his final resting place and leaves pontificating and bloviating behind.
