Oh, the re-misery that's going to envelop him when he has to stand up and say, "Hi, my name is Glenn Beck, and I'm an exploit-the-stupidaholic. Please, Jebus, send me a bailout. I'm still a dirtbag.
First, a few more from the Glenn Beck tweet collection ...
I believe Glenn Beck can fly, I believe Glenn Beck can touch the sky, I think about Him every night and day, spread His wings and fly away.
What Glenn Beck is facing is worse than the Ethiopian famine. We must rise up and protect Him. Let the Word of Beck reach every ear! Beck!
I summon the Kraken to challenge anybody who wants to make affordable healthcare available for everybody to a duel. KRAKEN WINS! Beck Power!
I'm not saying Glenn Beck has a crush on Brian Boitano. I'm just asking questions. The first question: How does Beck hide his yearning?
They say nobody can swim all the way around the world, but I'll bet Glenn Beck can. Never before has there been such an inspirational being.
I'm not saying that Glenn Beck's diet consists of llama placenta, pan-seared tarantula legs and infant bonemarrow. I'm just asking questions.
(You can see more for yourself, if you're a glutton for viewing addiction from afar here.)
Second, with a hat tip to PhillyGrrl for steering me in the Gawker direction, a take on Why the World is Better for the Sending In of the Glenn Beck Clown. It shouldn't come as a surprise that I whole heartedly agree. After all, Glenn Beck is my morning, noon and night.