How To Catch A Greased Newt - or - That Horse Can't Run In The Mud

Looks like we got a regular grand old pig scrample underway in the contest for the Republican Party nomination. And it looks like prissy lord Belmont of the uplands is going to have to lose the New & Lingwood reindeer leather loafers and qiviut mittens if he's going to catch up with a slippery Beltway grunter like Newton Leroy Gingrich. The GOP funfair mudpen circuit is no place for an upscale summer colony clover like the Mittster. Being outflanked early-on by an oafish self-appointed pearled swine is not the kind of trend a suave trader like Mitt Romney prefers to follow.

That Horse Can't Run In The Mud!

To make matters worse, on Tuesday, our thoroughbred managed to prance his way into a studio with Fox News interviewer Bret Baier. Unfortunately, for our unawares show horse, the program didn't unfold as expected when Baier began rattling off questions about the GOP pacesetter's previous volte-face show jumpings and general reverse prancings. This produced an alarming amount of fearful eyerolling and unflattering snorts and nervous fidgetting on the part of the studdly favorite. The normally smuggly confident bangtail looked like a nonstarter pony that stumbled upon on a coiled rattlesnake. Our Master Somerset trotted into the Fox News stable a well groomed stallion expecting a plate of molasses cookies and a free hoof polish but instead hobbled out a panic-struck gelding. Oops.

For Newt Gingrich, this is very good news. Mittens can't run in the mud! And Newty is clearly running in front around the first bend on an increasingly muddy track. There is nothing a greasy cob roller with a lifeline of revolving credit likes more than to be pursued into a muddy wallow by a castrated over-preened fop.

At this point, under these conditions, Newt isn't even his own worst enemy. Newt can tell anyone who will pay attention to him that he wrote all of Gene Autry's best loved songs, invented the game of golf after being declared the Earl of Musselburgh in 1670, and sired a line of space based Christian soldier-nauts that communicate secret messages to him via St. Josemaría Escriva and his wife Callista's platinum fiber hair helmet.

There are few ruts in the road in front of Newt at this point. Mittens, on the other hand, has his work cut out for him.

This ain't a horse race anymore. It's now a pig scramble. And Mitt's going to have to chase down a freshly greased Newton and hog-tie the oily bugger in the mud or else. Or else someone is going to be having a happy squealing greasy swine of a time in the Republican Party nomination winner circle sometime next summer.

And it won't be that Ambien overdose from Texas. Or Squirmin' Herman the sexy time pizza party guy. Or that spacey, sawed-off, Bible thumping busybody from Minnesota that looks like an evil Hobbit or a Vaughn Bode cartoon character. Or any of the other canditritus swirling about in the wingnutosphere.

Unless perhaps, the empress of the North Star - the human slide whistle - rises again. And decides to snatch up as many of her dirty little bastards as she can hold onto, fetches the naughty monkey pumps from under the burrito-skin upholstered sofa, and parades them all out to the Gulfstream II for a barnstorm bluster-blitz of the lower 48... and all that, too, also*.

[*Christ almighty. In that event we'd be looking at a greasy pig with a naughty monkey on its back fleeing through the muck with a neutered ascot catalog model sloshing behind in hot prusuit. It's too much - to horribly crazy - to process at this point.]

So, putting aside the horribly crazy, in order to help out the Romney campaign, who clearly have no idea how to tackle a runaway greased pig, I've decide to research greased pig chasing in the hope the Romneylins can use this information to help get a handle on what needs to be done to strenghten The Mitt's market position. And I found an article laying around on the intertube titled How to Catch a Greased Pig. This is some of what it advised:

1. Chase the pig as if you were chasing something just to its right (left if you're left footed). This causes it to turn left (right) instinctively, but more importantly, slows it down a little.

Of course! This is a given considering today's Tea Party dominated GOP. And Mitt will need to force Newt to the left if he hopes to position himself properly on the right.

For instance: When Newt Gingrich advocates for orphanages and child custodial labor Mitt must respond by pointing out that child custodians will only put the child's parents out of work and it isn't good for family stability to have a dad or mom displaced from their job by their own children. Especially a child who is willing to work for a fraction of the wages mom or dad will work for.

Mitt should advocate instead for new child job creation. Brand new jobs for children. For instance, child caddies on golf courses. A child can accompany any golfer to carry a bag or run around locating a lost golf ball or crack open a beer or be trained to estimate handicaps (thereby developing math skills).

Plunk a ball into a pond and all you need to do is tie a rope or a chain to the child and they will swim into the pond to retrieve the ball. Any extra balls they happen to retrieve they will be allowed to keep and sell by the side of a highway in their spare time. It's healthy sporting all Murican exercise, and it's character building outdoor work which every kid loves or at least will love someday. What could be more productive for a child! It's almost as much fun as selling meth to strippers outside a titty bar on a balmy Saturday night! And it's the kind of work parents who are employed as janitorial staff (or titty dancers) refuse to do.

Don't forget to recommend that some children can be employed by banks to sort through piles of dismembered mortgage securities. Any child who can reassemble a defaulted mortgage which results in a successful foreclosure will earn an alloted number of discontinued Bain Capital mousepads which the child can eventually sew together to create his or her very own mattress. I like to call this my "Mousepads to Mattresses" childrens crusade. Or, if the kids work really hard, they can transform their mousepads into an artificial putting green. Awesome!

2. Sprint suddenly and try to get next to the pig. 3. Jump diagonally across onto the pig off your better foot. [...] Aim to get your leg over the pig's back. 4. As you come down on the pig, hook your legs under the pig and back between the pig's rear legs, so that your heels are between the pig's rear legs. 5. Get your arms around the pig's neck, and push your legs back and up, hooking the rear legs. In this position, it's very hard for the pig to shake you, greased or not. If you find yourself sliding left or right, allow one free hand to push off the ground to restore balance. If you slide back or forth, you need to tighten your grip: push up with the legs and arms.

As you can see from the bold text above it is important to shift to the center once you have the pig under control. At this point, just to be on the safe side, you may have to denounce privatization of the state and local police departments as long as you stick to your pledge to allow the Cub Scouts of America to carry unconcealed semi automatic sidearms to chicken barbeques and pow-wows and Pinewood Derby events. Ok, so now...

6. The pig's reaction will be to run faster. Let it tire itself out for a bit while you expend minimal energy holding your position. 7. When you feel the pig faltering, straighten your legs as hard as you can. This will immobilize the rear legs. The pig will fall to one side, at which point you should unhook your leg from the underside before it lands or you could break your leg. 8. Keep the upper rear leg hooked and grab the upper front leg. The pig will be unable to get up.

Got that? Ride the pig until it gives up. Once the pig gives up you are free to hoist it up by it's hocks and boink it on the head with a ball peen hammer. No more greased pig to worry about in the winners circle. Turn it over to the kids selling golf balls and methamphetamine by the highway. Or the Cub Scouts. They'll sell pulled pork BBQ to bikers and strippers and the state police. Lord Mittens of the Belmont Uplands can now run for President as the as a job creator and champion of the second amendment.

Or you can just sit back and watch all the crazy bullshit fly by until November 2012 when you go to the polls and vote for the lanky smiley Hawaiian guy from Chicago.

'A'ole pilikia.

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