Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Tom Delay sadly exits 'Dancing with the Stars'

Get outta here, all of you, get the fuck out. Leaving, yeah I'm leaving, and you know what? In my mind I fucking won. I danced my goddamn feet to splinters. You got the balls to do that? You don't have the balls to do that.

I did the Tango, the Cha-cha, Meringue, the Mambo, it didn't matter to me, whatever the fuck they wanted to throw my way, they couldn't fluster Tom Delay. I'm an exterminator and I do my job. My job is my habit, and old habits die hard, just like the rumors of how the Hammer's time is over. Those cockroaches in the the media were gunning for me from Day 1, thinking they could call my number. They couldn't call my number.

The high heels called my number. Yeah, it was those Capezio shoes with the two inch heels, that's what kicked Tom Delay's ass to the curb. Nobody warns you about that part of show business, all it says in the contract is is that the fucking shoes are provided by the production company. A perk, I think, a little kickback.

Listen, if you wanna keep a high profile in this town, sometimes you've got to get out there and shake you booty. But on my mother's grave, no real man will shake his booty while wearing 2" Capezios. But I was cornered. I had already signed the sonofabitch contract, and no real man ever breaks a contract. A social contract, maybe, but a legal contract, never.

So I did it. I danced until my goddamn feet were crippled with stress fractures and I did it all brilliantly. I knew that either way I was doomed for a short period of time to the fate of not being a real man, so I chose the more lucrative of two sordid paths and I gave it all I had. I would have won, too, but for those fucking Capezios. People could not believe my animal grace. Some say that I was the best dancing Congressman ever, and I for one would not disagree.

The cockroaches ask 'is this it for the Hammer? Have we finally seen him dance his last?' In your dreams, cockroaches, Tom Delay is the man who always comes back. And I'll be back for the season finale to dance the Texas Two-Step on your pauper's grave. In my own goddamn cowboy boots.


  1. It couldn't be that he got a phone call telling him he was making the Republicans look like idiots.
    Naw, that would be too late. Maybe his lawyer called and told him to get the hell out of town, the Fed's finally found his ass.

    I am kind of ashamed that I don't get around here as often as I should, you got it going on and I am getting my head out of my ass and putting you on the Blogroll at Ornery Bastard.

  2. And I'll return the kindness.

    Good to see you, Busted.

  3. I'm imagining that all of this happened in Joe's Apartment. But maybe it's just the Shiner Bock.