Dear John Gibson

John, I found myself disagreeing with you on a recent occasion. In the classic style, and over the top, I will now flame you ;)

What Carnival gopher hole did Flock of Seagulls whack Eddy Munster over the head to come up with your gnarled countenance?
What Orwellian nightmare molded your thoughts into your current dali-esque view of the world? (I’ll refrain from anymore “your momma jokes”)
A rat, replete with sensors plugged into its brain, can still winnow its way through the simple maze to that small grain of cheesy truthiness. Tell me I’m wrong.

Only the twisted logic of a dog dragging its butt over a carpet can spew such nonsense as I heard last night. That felony towards civility was inflicted on me by YOU, sir.
I find you deficient in view, breadth, and percipience.
You’re a mean one, Mister Grinch. Tell me I’m Wrong

My ire is nearly spent, so I’ll spare you my denouement. Besides, O’Reilly is on in a little while :)