The progressive America-haters were so let down this past week when authorities revealed that the bomber in the failed NYC bomb plot was yet another unibrowed Muslim male between the ages of 18-35. That revelation absolutely ruined their Tuesday and constituted massive movie and cable news re-writes nationwide.
Matter of fact, after the disclosure that Felicia Shazaam was the culprit (or whatever the heck his name is), TMZ.com reported that the ever-fattening Bob Beckel was heard cussin’ all the way over in Phoenix, but no one understood what he was whining about because nobody speaks English in Phoenix anymore. (Cinco de Mayo, Julio? How’s about Cinco de Do-Si-Do back to Meh-hee-co if you are ill-legal-lo? Comprende?)
Yep, the America-loathing lefties were so disappointed that the person who tried to kill thousands of folks in Times Square last week wasn’t their hard-worked, new fangled—although fictitious—boogey man (i.e. the forty-year-old white dude) but was rather another adherent to the “religion of peace”—or is that pieces? The NYPD knew all along that it wasn’t a white dude because when they got into the SUV they immediately noticed that the bass settings were set higher than the treble.
Ah, wah wah, lame stream wusses. Did reality once again spoil your eternal blame game of Pin the Tail on Steve Carell? That’s gotta hurt because you didn’t get to BBQ a dirty white boy … again. What a shame.
What’s weird with the progressive honkyphobes is that instead of being glad that a stack of New Yorkers and tourists didn’t have twisted metal and mortar blown through their vital organs at 1,800 feet per second, they’re ticked that a typical Tea Partier didn’t light the fuse and thereby fulfill their prophecies.
You’d think that the progressives would be happy that our citizens narrowly escaped death and that our minds were once again yanked out of the BS ditch of PC drivel and riveted to the reality that those who regularly attack us don’t hail from Kentucky but Karachi, but then again you would be attributing to the left something that they’re incapable of—namely an admission that they are wrong and that they have once again missed it. No, they’re in a hissy because life ain’t lining up with their liner notes. Darn reality.
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