Heckle and Beckel

Bob Beckel has become a joke.  He has become a contornist when defending the White House and Obama.  And he really doesn’t care how silly he looks.  But then again after being the campaign chairman for the Mondale campaign and doing such a piss poor job at it, he could well be beyond embarrassment.  Since his inane and insane rantings will look even more ridiculous after Obama’s defeat, he may need a new occupation.  That is if he can get past his drug addiction and alcoholism long enough.  Perhaps he could be a boxing commentator.

Marv Albert:  And Ali just floored his opponent.

Beckel:  What match are you watching?  Didn’t you see that devastating uppercut that sent Ali reeling?

Albert:  But he’s flat on his back on the canvass.

Beckel:  Ohhhhhhhhh, he is not.  The referee has his hand raised in triumph.

Albert:  Have you been drinking again?

Beckel:  You right wing announcers are all the same.  Ali may win on style but Gordon won on substance.

Albert:  What substance?  Gordon never laid a glove on him.

Beckel:  I can clearly see that Gordon bloodied Ali’s mouth and nose.  Ali won’t be able to finish the match in my estimation.

Albert:  But the fight is over.  Gordon was overmatched from the beginning of the fight and is now knocked out.

Beckel:  Don’t be silly.  He’s just fighting from behind.  A brilliant strategy, if I do say so myself.

Albert:  But they called the ambulance for him.

Beckel:  He is merely lulling Ali into a false sense of security.

Albert:  Why do you keep your breath mints in a prescription bottle?

Beckel:  What pill bottle?

Albert:  Well folks, it’s all over and they are leading Ali from the ring in victory.

Beckel:  Whoa now.  Ali is running away in disgrace.  Gordon humiliated him with his floor-a-dope strategy and now his head is hung in shame and is trying to escape the loud chorus of boos from the fans.

Albert:  Bob, they are chanting Ali!  Ali!  Ali!

Beckel:  That’s French for get the hell out of here , you scum sucking ba—d.

Albert:  I don’t know about you but I’m going home.

Beckel:  That’s it.  Your man loses and now you run away.  Typical Republican p—y.

Albert:  Oh, geez.

Beckel:  Don’t worry folks, I’ll stay here.  I just did a brainblaster which is my own concoction made up of 1500ccs of pure adrenalin and a gram and a half of cocaine.  I can go all night.  Hell, I could die and it would be three days before I fell over.  What a glorious night it’s been for Gordon.  Although some people refuse to acknowledge his great victory tonight, he will be able to go home tonight and sleep peacefully knowing he took it to Ali and bested him.  Hey, anyone got any papers?