WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST with an important news bulletin.
Contrary to popular expectations, Mitch McConnell isn’t dead yet. That’s right, The Senate Majority Leader has not—I repeat, NOT—kicked the bucket. He has not freed the Kentucky horses, nor bitten the Kentucky dust, nor gone bung in the Kentucky dung. Davy Jone’s locker remains mercifully free from Mitchell’s light fingers, and the place to which he is destined is far, far better is some other universe, maybe, not but not in this one. No, the man’s cakewalk is not yet Texan, and he continues to turn up his nose instead of his toes, which are still crushing daisies nationwide. Rest assured that he’s not a rest, nor at peace, nor flogging a dead horse on the farm he’s just bought, and those McConnell flies aren’t dropping all over the chips he hasn’t cashed in. (That’s cow chips for all you Fox News couch potatoes.) It’s perfectly obvious that the choir he’s joined is still perfectly visible—even though the fat lady refuses to sing—and the light he’s been tripping is nothing like fantastic. Frankly, it’s perfectly obvious that his heels are not blessing this nor any other world, and the only ghosts he’s given up belong to immigrant children. He’s not here, of course—he’s six feet over there in the Senate building that he and Elvis refuse to leave—so everyone can have confidence that Majority Leader Addison Mitchell McConnell continues to suck the big one, but he hasn’t bitten it yet.
Benjamin Franklin once said “Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” Wiser words were never spoken. Meantime, Mitch McConnell is alive and kickin’.
We now return you to your regularly-scheduled program, already in progress.