I've been actually seeking a descriptive name for Sad Sack Harry Reid, and finally hit on one today: Nero.
On the floor of the US Senate today, the damnfool got lost in some adolescent fantasy where he's a sports reporter, rather than conducting any useful business for the nation.
There comes a time when you're so far beyond believing that the blockheads in DC are worth a "pitcher full of warm spit," that you start daydreaming about some kind of terrorist breaking in, lining them up against a wall... and... supply your own happy ending.
And the Comrade met with the incoming Republican leaders today, crowing about compromise and brotherhood and all that kind of bullshit that seems to have escaped him entirely for all of his earlier life and time in the White House. Kiss my ass, Comrade. Know what I mean? You're a rotten filthy and worse -- totally ignorant and incompetent LIAR. Does anyone care with this drek-for-brains has to say?
If I was Boehner, Cantor, et. al., I'd refer him to the Golden Rule, just before I spit in his face and walked out.
I'm so fed up with this bullshit it's almost unbelievable.
Nero Reid is promoting the Fantasy Act -- oh, excuse me the Dream Act -- apparently what he used to get Hispanic voters to support him. Ol' Nero is something of a disgrace on the Republic. Let's give illegals a shitload of benefits, but screw the Bush Tax Cuts. Ol' Nero's head is so far up his butt he can probably see his tonsils.
These assholes can't leave quick enough to satisfy me.
Save the Republic.
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