A Poem That Could Have Been Written by Rush Limbaugh

Limbaugh blames health care problems on “exercise freaks” (Political Irony: Humor and Hypocrisy from the World of Politics, June 13, 2009)

Who else but Rushbo would claim that folks who exercise are the people putting stress on our health care system? Check out the following video.

Here's a little poem I began writing last month after I first heard Rushbo spouting off about "exercise freaks" on his radio program.


Bah Humbug Exercise: A Poem That Could Have Been Written by Rush Limbaugh
by Elaine Magliaro

Don’t walk. Don’t run. Don’t exercise.
‘Tis better to have flabby thighs.

Indulge your mammoth appetite.
Take pride in mounds of cellulite.

I love my flabby rotund belly
That shakes just like a bowl of jelly.

Give me pork rinds. Give me meat
Ribbed with fat. That’s what I eat!

Give me French fries, donuts, bacon.
Obama, quit your bellyachin’

About us folks that you call “Fatty.”
Go stuff your face with a ten-pound patty!!!



Addendum: Rush has been slimming down in recent months. Maybe he does believe that being overweight isn’t good for one’s health. Check out this brief article: Rush Limbaugh's Weight Loss - Quick and Confusing (From That’s Fit, July 31, 2009).

Gasbag: A Limbaughrhyme

GASBAG

OxyContin
Pudding and pie
Rush popped five pills
And went sky high.

He floated
In the stratosphere
Like the Goodyear blimp,
A gaseous sermoneer,

An incendiary
Doctrinaire
Spouting racist talk—
And full of hot air!

********************

At Wild Rose Reader today--Red Sings from Treetops: A Book Review & An Invitation

At Blue Rose Girls today: POETRY FRIDAY: Opposite Poems

The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Becky’s Book Reviews this week.

A Terse Verse about Rush Limbaugh

Just when one thinks that the despicable Rush Limbaugh has gone as far as one can go in insulting a world leader with incendiary rhetoric—he sputters something so offensive that I won't print it here. Read this piece written by Jason Linkins for The Huffington Post (April 1, 2009) if you don’t believe me.

I have a short rhyming verse for you today--a couplet about Limbaugh, the bloated, bloviating blowhard who sometimes refers to himself as Rushbo. Someone should muzzle that blustering bozo!!!


A Couplet about Rush Limbaugh

A pompous, porcine bag of gas.
I tell myself—this, too, shall pass.

Rush and the Pussy-Cat: A Limbaughrhyme

From MediaMatters: Limbaugh said he learned about women from his cat, which "gets loved," "petted," and "fed" and "doesn't have to do anything for it"

On the November 30 edition of his nationally syndicated radio show, host Rush Limbaugh proclaimed: My "cat's taught me more about women, than anything my whole life" because his pet cat "comes to me when she wants to be fed," and "[s]he's smart enough to know she can't feed herself. She's actually [a] very smart cat. She gets loved. She gets adoration. She gets petted. She gets fed. And she doesn't have to do anything for it." Limbaugh has previously stated, on the March 1, 2005, edition of his show, that "[w]omen still live longer than men because their lives are easier"; on January 10, he suggested that some women "would love to be hired as eye candy."

You can read the rest of this article here.

Here is my parody of Edward Lear's famous poem The Owl and the Pussy-Cat. In my version, Rush Limbaugh substitutes for "the owl."

Rush and the Pussy-Cat
(With apologies to Edward Lear)
By Elaine Magliaro

Rush and his Pussy-Cat went to sea
In a humongous pea-green boat.
They took some victuals and plenty of Skittles
Zipped up in big blue tote.
Rush looked up to the stars above
And croaked like frog in heat:
“O lovely pussy, O Pussy, my pet
What a purr-fect little pussy! You’re sweet,
So sweet!
What a purr-fect little pussy! Let’s eat!!!”

Pussy said to her master, “Can we sail a little faster?
I’d like to reach land by dawn.
You’ve got ketchup on your chinny and you’re talking like a ninny.
Will you stop wolfing down all my prawn!”
So they sailed away and decided to stay
On an isle that served endless buffets.
And there on the sand—a roast beef in his hand—
Rush settled in chartreuse-colored chaise,
A chaise.
Rush settled in a chartreuse-colored chaise.

“Rush, are you still eating?” purr-fect pussy started bleating.
“You will never EVER stop, I fear!”
He ignored her plaintive pleas as he ate a plate of cheese
And he guzzled down a gallon stein of beer.
Then he crunched a bag of chips and he smacked his lusty lips.
Next, he started scarfing down some cassoulet.
Oh, he kept on masticating. It was SO intoxicating
He cried, “Pussy, will you marry me today,
today?!”
He cried, “Pussy, will you marry me today?!”

Pussy rolled her feline eyes and began to vocalize
Her reasons for not wanting to be wed.
“Oh, I know you think I’m dandy. I don’t want to be eye candy—
But respected for the brains inside my head.”
She then stood on her hind paws and she showed her pointed claws.
“I'm a female who wants so much more from life.
So your offer I’ll decline—and I hope that you won’t whine.
Rush, I cannot be your sweet submissive wife,
Your wife.
I just cannot be your sweet submissive wife.”

***************

At Wild Rose Reader, I have Things to Do If You Are a Pencil, an original poem that’s included in Falling Down the Page: A Book of List Poems, a new anthology edited by Georgia Heard.

At Blue Rose Girls, I have a post about Magnetic Poetry and a poem I composed using one of the kits at the magnetic Poetry site. (Thanks to Cloudscome for her Magnetic Poetry post last Friday.)

Julie Larios has the Poetry Friday Roundup at The Drift Record.

Why Don't Women Like Rush Limbaugh?: A Rhyming Response

The EIB Network Female Summit (February 25, 2009)

Here is the beginning of the transcript:

RUSH: Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to do the Female Summit today, by the way. We will do the Female Summit in the third hour of the program today, and the reason we're going to do the Female Summit is Public Policy Polling in North Carolina published a national poll on your beloved host, El Rushbo. They found I've got 46% approval, 43% disapproval, but I got a huge gender gap. My gender gap between men and women is 31%. Thirty-one percent is the differential between male approval and female approval. So yesterday I said, "What can I do about this? What could be done? What is the explanation for this?"

********************

Rush Limbaugh wants to know why women don’t like him. Since he wants an explanation, I, a member of the female gender, am happy to oblige him—in rhyming verse.

Why Don’t Women Like Rush Limbaugh?: A Rhyming Response
By Elaine Magliaro

Limbaugh, Limbaugh, cookies and cream,
Rush kissed the girls and made them scream.
He asked them if they’d like to play
But the feminazis ran away.

Limbaugh, Limbaugh, pudding and pie,
Ole clueless Rush couldn’t figure why
He didn’t rate with the “weaker” sex.
Maybe it’s 'cause he has three necks!

Maybe it’s 'cause he’s full of bile
And sports a snide satanic smile
And calls us babes—and things much worse.

Here’s your answer, Rush, in this little verse.

***************

Edited to Add:
From A Prairie Home Companion

The Old Scout: Disabilities and Delusions
By Garrison Keillor

Many thanks to Tanita of Finding Wondering for this link!

Winnie the Pooh-Bah and the Hundred Acre Wood: A Poem about Rush Limbaugh

Winnie the Pooh-Bah and the Hundred Acre Wood
(With apologies to A. A. Milne)
by Elaine Magliaro

He lives in the forest
But he can’t see the trees.
He suffers from
Far right optical disease.

He looks at things his way—
And not as they are.
This Winnie Pooh-Bah reigns
As GOP Czar.

He sits on his wooden throne,
An old oak stump…
And talks into his microphone.
He likes to harrumph

About the feminazis,
Liberals and their kin.
And for one Know-Nothing?
He can make an awful din.

He blathers and he blusters
And he bloviates.
He’s the pope of the radio.
He pontificates.

He’s the GOP prophet,
Its spokesperson divine.
Its senators and congressman
Must toe his party line.

They all must pledge allegiance.
They must grovel at his feet…
And like a flock of dittoheads
Must follow him and bleat.

The Tiggers and the Piglets
And all the little Roos
Consider this plump Pooh-Bah
Their one official Muse.

The heffalumps and jagulars,
The foxes, deer, and pheasant
Have all left the forest
’Cause they find his noise unpleasant.

He spouts and he sputters
In the Hundred Acre Wood—
This lord who wears a crown beneath
His snowy white hood.

All Bow Down Now: A Limbaughrhyme

Here's a poem inspired by Rush Limbaugh's performance at CPAC last week. It's my very first Limbaughrhyme!

(Someone should tell Rush that fat white men shouldn't jump. I heard he really rocked the seismometers!)



All Bow Down Now

Higgeldy Piggeldy Limbaugh the swine
Thought he was Tarzan, swung from a vine.
With his pink fleshy fists, porky and plump,
On his flabulous chest, he started to thump.

Rushy then stood like god Thor at the podium.
He railed at Obama in a speech filled with odium.
He thundered. He ranted. He jumped up and down.
Now he struts like a king with the GOP crown!