I honestly don’t know what to do about this latest creation from the giant cloud of flatus that calls itself Ted Rall.
Now I realize that “giant cloud of flatus” seems like a harsh phrase, but I assure you it’s not. It replaces about three paragraphs of cursing so intense that it nearly warped the vrey fabric of reality in front of my computer monitor and unleashed horrors that would make H.P. Lovercaft wet the bed and various invectives about Rall’s parentage so severe that they would have made his real parents bleed from the ears, assuming he has them and they’re of the same species as the rest of us.
But I didn’t do any of that. I simply called Ted Rall a “giant cloud of flatus”. Because I’m nice. Because I run what I generally like to believe is a family-friendly blog.
And what Rall did isn’t really entirely my fight. Not this time. This time he’s aimed his bile at the wives, fiancees, and girlfriends of our soldiers. Not content to insult soldiers, the slightest of which could beat him into his constituent atoms (Rl is the atomic symbol for Rallium. It has the general consistency and appeal of goosepoo but with less potential intelligence), he’s chosen to insult the women our soldiers love by telling them that they love people who are so unstable that when they return, they will torture and murder just for grins.
So, ladies, go get him.
Rall is syndicated by Universal Press Syndicate. I’m sure they’d be interested in hearing from you.
