My Favorite Martian

Happy Halloween, Everyone.  A few weeks ago the Vice-President made a truly unfortunate double entendre involving the cheerleaders at a high school where he was campaigning. Mr. W. came home ranting about the vulgarity of the VP, but I pooh-poohed him, thinking it had to have been an accident, since no one talks that way around kids -- at least not while trying to secure their parents' votes. The man's a buffoon, but not a vulgarian.

Or so I thought. Mr. W. as usual has been proven right.

Here he is at a campaign event today (Curtsy: Weekly Standard).

Yesterday he told FL voters that Transgender discrimination is the civil rights issue of our time.

And the most mind-boggling remark of all: who talks like this at a funeral? To grieving parents?  As Mark Steyn wrote of the incident (I can't link it at present because the site is down, but it's included in the link above):

The near-parodic locker-room coarseness is grotesque both in its inaptness and in its lack of basic human feeling for a bereaved family forced to grieve in public and as crowd-scene extras to the political bigshot. Just about the only formal responsibility a vice president has is to attend funerals without embarrassing his country. And this preening buffoon of pseudo-blue-collar faux-machismo couldn’t even manage that.

Luke 6:45 comes to mind: "Out of the abundance of the heart,the mouth speaks."

Or more simply: the Vice-President is a dirty ol' man.

 Shamelessly pinched from here.

This campaign season he's squandered all my previously expressed grudging affection for him. I no longer find him funny. Just sad.