I can just imagine the following two scenes: The first is of Jesse Jackson, bolting straight up out of a deep sleep, hearing the words, "...some nappy-headed ho's" -and, thinking he was having a wet dream, unloads in his drawers. Ha. The second, The Reverend Al Sharpton's personal radar having picked up the phrase "nappy-headed ho's" out of the ether, simply wets himself.
A collective moment of deep satisfaction for both of them, *sigh*, then Sharpton runs over the dog getting to a phone.
Poor Imus. Poor, old, mean-spirited Imus. He's just painted a huge bull's-eye on his bony ass, from which even the Pope couldn't confer absolution. Tough. I remember listening to Imus In The Morning way back in the early 80's. He was full of irreverent energy, and I found him amusing to listen to, as I went about my morning. Now he's just a bitter old man, who delights in sharing his misery.
Two-week suspension? Not likely, with Revs. Jesse and Al on his case. Is that drum-beats I hear?
Cya Imus.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Poor, Old, Imus
Posted by No Apology at 6:58 PM
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