The Widdershins

It’s that time again!  It is time for the quadrennial hajj to Simi Valley, California, to pay homage to Ronaldus Maximus – seer, sage, and believer of ketchup as a vegetable.  In addition to the four-year butt itch that comes from this spectacle, there will be an umrah as well.  An umrah is a non-mandatory “come with” kinda pilgrimage.

The call to worship for the main hajj will be this evening at 8:00 EDT with the umrah children’s table being two hours earlier at 6:00.  The umrah could prove to be entertaining with Lady Lindsey serving early tea to George, Rick, and Piyush (Pataki, Santorum, and Jindal).  Reports these four will be wearing mau maus with Thank You for Being a Friend from the Golden Girls playing in the background are unconfirmed.

The physical format will be the same as the scene from the Twilight Zone – you know the one where the monster is on the wing of the plane.  The difference here is that there will be eleven googly-eyed miscreants mumbling “Raygun, Raygun, Raygun” whilst they pee a little bit in their men’s Depends from the excitement of breathlessly yattering his holy name.

Someone will be missing from these festivities and his passing definitely merits a drive-by booting.  Last Friday evening, Rick “Pretty Hair” Perry and his wonderful, most marvelously superb glasses climbed up on the vet’s table and promptly euthanized his mongrel campaign.

Pretty Hair Perry was at a loss as to why his campaign hadn’t blown up like an uninspected Texas warehouse full of ammonium nitrate.  He seems to think a large part of his personal non-combustibility is due to his 2012 back surgery leading up to his famous “Oops” moment.

A fair enough assessment given the fact that Pretty Hair’s back surgery was an unapproved stem cell infusion of his own arse-goo by a friend who ran a medical day spa and had never before done the procedure.  The Oopsmeister’s aggressive use of opiates to heighten his pre-existing dullness probably didn’t help matters.  In any event, may his glasses rest in peace otherwise the mega-donors wanting their money back might be wearing them sometime soon.

Tucked away in a corner of Ventura County (named after Jessie I’m sure), the stomp-worthy weasels of the main hajj will miss Pretty Hair and have to settle for fixating upon Forrest Trump’s pate of the finest, kangaroo scrotum hair money can buy.

One thing for sure, someone is going to find a metaphorical shiv between their third and fourth ribs.  These presidential inmates are all going to be defensive.  They will claim Raygun was a playah; thereby, making him their long-lost daddy.  They will adopt the Reaganesque concept of a “welfare queen” as their mother since none of them were hatched into households with indoor plumbing.  And by the gods of Lincoln Republicanism, they were second year MBA or law students before they could afford shoes.

While their podiums will be made from the finest laminated plywood, it will pale in comparison to the wood they will be sporting behind the podiums as they lovingly call out Raygun’s name as if in the ecstasy of conservative carnal copulation (you know, the good kind of sex that can only occur in the bedroom or church choir loft).   Rest assured, as they pander and grunt, we will hear nary a word about Ronaldus awarding amnesty to 3 million undocumented aliens.

Likewise, there won’t be a whimper about his Medicaid expansion or raising taxes eleven times while tripling the deficit.  No one will remember his calling the old Soviet Union an “evil empire,” whilst he went right ahead negotiating with them.  And good Nancy almighty, no one will mention when Raygun, as California ”gubnor”,  signed the nation’s most liberal abortion law before Roe v. Wade gave sexless hyenas a reason to live.

None of these facts will be mentioned, but you can bet you’ll hear “trust, but verify” so often you’ll think the Gipper had whispered it into the uteri from whence these wankers sprang.

You will hear Donald Trump, Ben Carson, Scott Walker, John Kasich, Bobby Jindal, Rick Santorum, and others wax poetic about how, at any moment, Raygun will roll back the stone from his tomb and just before ascending to the heavens strapped onto an ICBM missile he will pronounce the Afro-Kenyan in the White House an apostate.

In case you haven’t seen CNN in the last six months where the the debate commercials have debate commercials, the event is tonight.  We will be live blogging the event, so tell your friends and come on by.  It should be entertaining in the same way bot fly removal is a fast growing spectator sport.

In any event you can be sure about this:  A dozen or so of these candidates would have a far more productive evening if they visited the Skateboarding Hall of Fame, which also happens to be in Simi Valley, and learned the intricacies of navigating a half-pipe as opposed to smoking one.

As always, your comments and thoughts on any subject are encouraged and anticipated.