Watching the most recent episode of “Help, the Party’s Been Hijacked!” – more popularly known as the 2nd Florida Republican Tea Party (GOTP) Debate – brought keenly into focus that its time for at least one of the four candidates to jump out of the clown car, and no, I’m not referring to Mittens, Newton or Ricky.
It’s painful to continue watching Ron Paul’s “crazy uncle” routine week after week; he’s actually beginning – with each passing debate – to appear to be morphing into the two guys (Statler and Waldorf) who used to sit in the balcony and heckle poor hapless Fozzy Bear each week on the Muppet Show. Please Congressman, you’re embarrassing yourself. I don’t admit it hasn’t been fun (at times), but now it’s time for your nurse to take you back to your room and give you your meds.
Now, don’t get me wrong, very few people enjoy seeing the Grand Old Party implode more than me, but this is getting way past painful to watch, and it’s far past becoming a joke. At this point I’d rather watch a “Mama’s Family” marathon.
Of course, Congressman Paul’s never stood a chance of winning the nomination, most political party’s – including the GOTP – try to avoid nominating people who can’t get elected, well, there was that whole Sarah Palin thing, but why open that old wound and poor lemon juice into it? People aren’t laughing with you Dr. Paul, they’re laughing at you; seriously, you stand a better chance of being mauled by a pack of rabid dingos, a white Bengal tiger and mountain lion at the same time than winning the nomination much less being elected president. Paging Dr Paul, it’s “To Dream the Impossible Dream” Don Quixote, not “To Dream the There Ain’t No Frickin Way It’s Ever – And I Do Mean Ever – Going to Happen Rag Time Dream”.
Hopefully the people of Florida will finally make it crystal clear to you that it’s time; we’ll see; but then again they did elect Rick Scott.