Why So Quiet, Oh Great Maja-Rushie?

I couldn't help but notice that you have been absent all this week from your regular hosting duties. I can only assume that the fighting challenges I have issued to you recently have caused you such distress as to render you mute. I wish you a speedy recovery, as part of the satisfaction of whipping you in a street fight involves hearing you plead like a wee teary-eyed bodkin for the beatings to stop.

Fat-head, Fat-head, Roly-Poly Fat-head!

I remember a time in your fairly recent past when you were fat--I mean like sustains-its-own-gravitational-pull type fat (see here). And, to your credit, you lost a good bit of it (with a little pharmaceutical assistance, to be sure)... That's to be applauded. Unfortunately, you weren't able to lose the fat in the one area that it matters most: your head.

Come on. Let's fight.

Rusty Pots and Kettles and Other Leaky Vessels

I was listening to your show today, as I am wont to do on occasion, when I heard your whiny, pusillanimous voice make mention of Patrick Leahy (D, VT). You referred to him as "Leaky Leahy," implying that he suffered from incontinence; you even went so far as to suggest that he wore Depends undergarments. Now, I don't know Leahy from Adam, and I have no real interest in defending his honor or anything like that. I do think it's more than a bit brash for someone with your condition, a leaky pilonidal cyst, to insinuate such a thing about anyone else. I think I'd like to kick you in that cyst, as I bet it would be very painful.

PS: Your golf game is weak. Let's fight.