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The smell of fear

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My, my, my.  It looks like news ain’t the only thing breaking in Congress.

In case you didn’t tune in—a safe assumption, given that this is MSNBC we’re talking about—Democrat Representative and blink-and-you-missed-it Presidential candidate Eric Swalwell appeared on Hardball last night to talk impeachment, and let’s just say he made quite the impression.  Was it his rapier wit?  His incisive commentary?  His razor-sharp command of the issues?  Well, not exactly—but I think it’s safe to say that he gave host Chris Matthews a thrill, though whether or not it went up his leg remains in question.

Now for most of us rabid right-wingers, hearing Swalwell talk out of his tailpipe comes as no surprise.  Certainly, the emanations from that orifice sounded a lot more coherent and pleasant than the stuff that spews from his mouth on a daily basis.  The floating air biscuit, however, seemed to catch Matthews off guard—not a bad thing in retrospect, as the poor chap appears bored off his own behind before Swalwell’s decided to liven things up with an impromptu performance.

Never one to toot his own horn, Swalwell denied it, of course—and had ample opportunity to do so, since his Twitter is apparently open to DMs.  But with no way to blame shifting in his chair or a passing staffer (passing gasser?), the cut-loose Congressman had to rely on a compliant media to ride to his rescue—which, by the way, Hardball dutifully did:

The people know the truth, though.  The evidence for flatulence is in—and no amount of Renuzit will make it go away.

In fact, the whole scandal puts me in the mind of a song from a few years back.  Perhaps we could rewrite the lyric to better suit the political moment?

And I tell you baby no way
But you saw me in the Rotunda
(It wasn’t me)
Eating all those pinto bean flautas
(It wasn’t me)
I couldn’t hold it any longer
(It wasn’t me)
Chris even caught me on camera
(It wasn’t me)
It couldn’t be any louder 
(It wasn’t me)
Call me Eric the Ripper
(It wasn’t me)
Gonna be forever on Twitter
(It wasn’t me)
My career is over..

Thanks, folks, and don’t forget to tip your waitress!


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