Oh boo fucking hoo! Wanda Sykes shouldn’t have hurt po’ little defenseless Wush Wimbaugh’s feelings! So the tasteless White House Correspondents Association dinner now is a harmless jokefest where you roast people but you don’t actually fry them.
Therefore, the suddenly shocked critics say, it wasn’t ladylike for Sykes to mock Limbaugh as the 20th hijacker and say he only missed the event because he was whacked on oxycontin.
These are the same people who chortled when W made ha-ha over the missing weapons of mass destruction at a previous affair. That must have been really funny because the reporters ate it up, probably because they’re not missing a limb or six of their grandchildren as a result of the latest mosque bombing brought to them by these jokers.
Torture is a laffriot too, so I’m surprised no one raised the Bybee and Yoo memos for some stand-up. But I guess if you can listen to Limbaugh without wanting to stick your finger into an electrical socket, torture is pretty tame shit.
Since Limbaugh’s fancy lawyers got him off his drug-running felony, his substance addiction is off-limits? Hilarious! I hope they keep up the criticism so that the entire country can be reminded that the de facto head of the opposition party rants for hours on the radio while delirious on opiates.
That, I suspect, is the real reason Sykes is taking a beating. It can’t be over the tastefulness of her humor because there is no such thing at this smarmy circle-jerk that showcases the chummy consensus between the powerful and their enablers in the news business. The panty-twist over Sykes’s zingers is a perfect reminder of that.
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