There’s a lot going on in Trumplandia these days—from the Trumpus taking his Vindman Brothers Revenge Tour (“when you take out these terrorists, you have to take out their families,” he’d said) to elites everywhere freaking out over Bernie’s wondrous wins—but here’s a “little item” worth mentioning…
Indeed, that’s what racist sexist tRumpist Medal of Freedom plunderer Rush Limbaugh tried to slut-shame me as: a “little item.”
I realize the guy has stage 4 lung cancer, and I feel sorry for him; I wouldn’t wish cancer on anybody, even Rush. Seriously, I’d normally leave the poor bastard alone as he moves on from Oxycontin and Viagra to Chemo and Radiation, before receiving his due from the Grim Reaper (not Mitch McConnell; the other one).
However, the Trumpus wouldn’t just let racist dogs die; he had to push it over the top of decency and credulity (as usual) during his so-called State of the Union which was so “tear-able,” that his great love, his YUGE Valentine mommy-fetish object, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, dramatically tore up her copy.
Frankly, I wish she’d torn up that truly obscene 2020 military budget instead. Still, the drama was mildly entertaining after such a long stretch of hokum, bunkum and tedium. Even though Team tRump retaliated by making a video (now playing on Facebook and Twitter, both of which refuse to remove it or identify it as misleading, showing their true Trumper colors) that makes it appear that she’s tearing it up—not at the end of the speech as she did—but when Charles McGee, one of the last surviving Tuskegee Airmen (the first group of African-American World War II fighter pilots), and others were being honored.
Kicking off Black History Month with that Judas kiss and then a swift kick in the face to African Americans, Il Douche bestowed America’s highest civilian honor upon the King of Creeps, the godfather of modern bigotry, Rush Limbaugh.
Truly one of America’s most prominent racist sexist bigots, Rush was a Trumper before there was Trump, even before there was Fox-News. In the giddy, greed-loving Reagan/Bush 1980’s, when young Trumply was nothing but a fame-chasing, philanderous, “short-fingered vulgarian” suckling the teat of Daddy’s money, the ambitious Kansas City (the one in Missouri, Mr. Presidunce, not Kansas) radioman began planting his seedlings of hate.
Quite possibly, without Rash Limpballs’ poisonous seed nurturing racism and sexism—which, though still rampant, seemed as if they were on the way out in post-modern American—there would be no President tRump.
Perhaps the Tangerine Tyrant actually appreciates this. More likely, he just wanted to stick it to the Dems and toss that blood-red meat to his ravenous base, which also happens to be Rush’s core audience, who must have especially savored the sight of the “Be Best” immigrant trophy bride herself sensuously placing the royal blue trophy ribbon around Old Limpballs’ pretend-surprised head.
Whatever the motivation, the Emperor Trumpy Bear honored the King of Creeps, who is also the Sultan of Slut-Shaming, having, for example, once posed the pointed question, “What does it say about the college co-ed Susan Fluke—who goes before a congressional committee and essentially says that she must be paid to have sex—what does that make her? It makes her a slut, right? It makes her a prostitute.”
First, her name is Sandra—not Susan. Second, she was speaking about the need for government subsidized reproductive health services. That, to Rush, makes her a prostitute.
There’s nothing wrong with being a prostitute (though “sex worker” is the preferred term) or a slut.
I myself am a slut, and I am not ashamed. Though I reserve the act of intercourse for my husband of more than 27 years, I enjoy other erotic activities with a variety of partners.
But don’t try to slut-shame me to support your sexist, racist agenda.
I admit, it’s personal with me and Rush. A few months ago, the King of Creeps tried his best to slut-shame me, catcalling me a “little item” in his creepy little newsletter which also mocked victims of Post-Trump Sex Disorder, in a bid to sell said newsletters, as his slobbering guest host Mark Steyn cackled sadistically over Rush’s silly rhyme for people’s Trumpocalyptic sex and relationship pain: “Dysfunction Junction.”
Of course, I had no choice but to reBUTT their butts GOOD, so good that cowardly Rush took down that whole slut-shaming, victim-blaming shit show (I haven’t checked to see if it’s still in his creepy little newsletter). Fortunately, I recorded that piece of his show, and you can hear it in all its filthy glory on my hilarious, disturbing and spankalicious Rush Limbaugh ReBUTTal video.
In a similar vein, Trumpty Dumpty’s equally dumpy golf buddy also tried to slut-shame excellent leftwing commentator Krystal Ball with an outrageous lie, saying there were naked photos of her at age “14 or 15” posted on social media… until she forced him to admit that he made up the entire story from his lascivious (and perhaps Epstein-enhanced?) imagination.
Having survived the real job of radio broadcasting, Rush tends to be wittier than Trump, but his cleverness and soothing baritone voice make him at least equally toxic—like toasted caramel syrup delivering a dose of cyanide.
His greatest contribution to the world is that despite his various sexual escapades, the King of Creeps is child-free.
© February 13, 2020. Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For information and speaking engagements, call 626-461-5950. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org