But better late than never, which is what I was starting to think was going to be the case.
Good bye Antonin Scalia. You bloated, pustular, two-legged carp. All the wrong infants die of SIDS. You were a waste of sperm, and the world is the worse for your having graced it. You were the anti-Bowie. To almost quote Hunter S. Thompson when Richard Nixon died: there was a pockmarked wall out there with your name on it and I’m bitter you were never made to stand in front of it. Not that I think mere firing squad bullets could have pierced the thick cladding of impenetrable evil and ignorance that barded whatever passed for your heart. But it would have been worth a try.
Good bye Antonin Scalia. I almost wish I wasn’t an atheist so I could take comfort in knowing that for all eternity you will now be kneeling next to Andrew Breitbart sucking Satan’s cock. And when Cheney gets there after his 5th or 6th torn-still-beating-from-an-orphan’s-chest heart gives out, he’ll be boning you up the ass while you’re doing so. It’ll be just like when he was in office, but without Liz watching this time. Until she dies, of course.
Good bye Antonin Scalia. You were the worst thing to ever come out of New Jersey, and that’s an almost unimaginably high bar. Whenever someone would say something disparaging about New Jersey in my presence, no matter how outrageous or untrue, I never argued because I knew we produced you. I’d be less ashamed if Pol Pot was born and raised here.
Good by Antonin Scalia. My fervent wish now is that your wife Maureen and your 9 children (9 children! You weren’t satisfied with just fucking the country every chance you got, huh?) all die of heartbreak. Or in a bus plunge. Whatever. As long as they die. I don’t want there to be any chance your genetic markers will continue to pollute the human pool.
Goodbye Antonin Scalia. You destroyed more lives than Spanish Influenza, bubonic plague, and Bill Cosby combined. If you had your way you probably would have reached numbers not seen since the K-T Extinction, but fortunately you were at least partially thwarted by the Elder Wand and Ash’s Pikachu. Along with some of the more human members of the Supreme Court.
Goodbye Antonin Scalia. It’s ironic, but not surprising, that you keeled just hours before the holiday that celebrates affairs of the one organ you were never blessed with. I’ll keep Valentine’s Day forever in my heart now because of you. God bless us, every one.
The question now of course is who is going to replace you? Frankly, I don’t care. Almost anyone I could name is a better American than you. David Duke is more sensitive to diversity. Kim Jong-un is more tolerant of dissent. The explosion of fecal stains NewWifey(tm) refuses to scrub out of every pair of underwear I own has a higher Milk of Human Kindness quotient. The AIDS virus has better P.R.
I cover the depth of human depravity every day in my capacity as Lame-stream Media News Dissemination Bot. Puppy rapers. Reverse mortgage Svengalis. Vegetarians, even. None of it has any effect on me, courtesy of my carefully constructed professional wall of empathy fatigue. The only thing, the only thing, that has without fail ever put me in danger of violating the FCC’s stricture against “fleeting expletives” on the air is reading a Scalia opinion. And I’ve been on the air with Michele Bachmann.
Now I’m not so Pollyanish as to think that someone who meets even my lowest standards of Acceptable Humanity will have a chance in hell of being appointed, let alone be confirmed by a hostile senate, to replace Cthulhu Scalia. But whatever compromise robot they eventually throw that robe onto, it’s gotta be better for America than the corpse they just tore it off of. At least this is happening on Obama’s watch, not President Trump’s. Can you say “Associate Justice Ivanka”? He can.
Well, I gotta hit the sack. It’s the night before Valentine’s Day, and I need to be well rested for the traditional tsunami of chocolate and pan-orifice sex tomorrow. I just hope NewWifey(tm) can join me this year.
Goodbye Antonin Scalia. And one last thing: fuck you. I hope you burn.