In all the distraction of Breitbart dying, Rush Limbaugh opened his trap yesterday.  After a Georgetown University law student was infamously prevented by Republicans from being the one woman to speak at the opening panel at the hearing on contraception coverage, she spoke at a “counter-hearing” organized by Rep. Nancy Pelosi about the issue.

Apparently that tied Rush’s knickers in a big knot, and on Wednesday he denounced this young woman as a “slut” and “prostitute” for wanting birth control pills covered the same as any other medication by her insurance plan.  Yesterday he called on her to make a sex tape and post it on the Internet to compensate taxpayers for having to cover her pills.

We shall see what insanity spews out of his hole today, but what Nojo said about Breitbart made me realize I can’t wait to speak ill of a dead Rush.

[SF Chronicle]

We learned yesterday that Andrew Breitbart was only 43; that he had a wife and four children; that his father-in-law was Orson Bean; that he (like us) enjoyed The The; and that he was gregarious among fellow L.A. bloggers in the early days of the medium.

And, quite honestly, we don’t give a shit.

We also learned, much to our surprise, that the maxim “Don’t speak ill of the dead” goes back to the Greeks. Culturally, the West knows it from a 1432 Latin translation of a work attributing it to Chilon of Sparta, which dates it to sixth centuries before The Miraculous Birth of Our Holy Savior.

Read more »

“An investigative ‘Cold Case Posse’ launched six months ago by ‘America’s toughest sheriff’ – Joe Arpaio of Arizona’s Maricopa County – has concluded there is probable cause that the document released by the White House last year as President Obama’s birth certificate is a computer-generated forgery.” [WND]

25 People Who Think President Obama Killed Andrew Breitbart [BuzzFeed]

[Twitter]

Reviews for “Passion Natural Water-Based Lubricant – 55 Gallon”, sold for $1,495 by Amazon. Note: Includes pump.

• “The product only took a week to arrive, and got to my apartment just in time for my first real ‘date’ since the gas station incident.”
• “Nothing says romance better and is more guaranteed to get you laid than rolling out a 55 gallon drum of lube.”
• “Now I know what you’re thinking: ‘Dave why don’t you quit drinking?’ ‘Dave maybe you should ease up on the porn, the kids haven’t seen you in weeks.’ ‘My god, the cats all white and sticky.'”

Read more »

I know. We’re all exhausted from the froth spurting out of our TVs like an avalanche of fecal matter and cheap aftershave.

We thought it couldn’t get any worse.

But it has.