TO BITCH ABOUT IT WHEN ADULTS move to clean up after them. (Mom: “If you don’t clean your room, I will, and you won’t like how I do it!”).
Instead of — you know — doing it themselves.
Another way the OWS Infest-Your-Place-Fest is NOT like the TEA Party.
Rush made a funny opening his show on Friday. He suggested maybe the (adults in the) TEA Party should go down to that park in lower Manhattan where the Infest Your Place clowns have fouled their nest (so typical) and clean up after them.
Can you picture the barricades? A bunch of whiney little titty babies on one side armed with their outrage and their stench. On the other side, a phalanx of soccer moms, presenting serried ranks of string mops like hoplites with their spears, the second cohort carrying 5-gallon wringer buckets filled with steaming hot water and Pine-Sol. The soccer mom phalanx advances with all good discipline, in-step, ranks dressed and holding straight. The brat brigades waver, then break and run, their courage utterly broken by the prospect of a good scrubbing.
As they scatter like roaches when the lights come on, comes the cry, “Let fly the white doves!” and countless Febreeze grenades sail over the front ranks of the phalanx to land and burst among the fleeing basement-dwellers, spewing fragrant clouds of aromatic, odor-destroying air freshener.