Gohmert Pyle strikes again. (Rep. Louie Gohmert Compares Gun Control to Bestiality)

Mustardayonnaise

You can’t hide your lyonnaise.

Gross. That shit is for people who can’t afford Mayostard.

Gohmert himself has done it more than once. In fact he’s gone even further down the slope to necrophilia.

Both Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert had a lotta bestiality-joke fun with this story last night!

I bet you’ve been waiting decades to use that line.

Plus, Stewart pointed out the fact that Gohmert was trying to support the idea that placing limits on magazine size is bad by saying that removing limits on the definition of marriage is bad. It seems to me that Gohmert himself realized that this made no sense whatsoever, by the way he became completely inarticulate towards the end of that clip.

If you allow one slippery slope, pretty soon all slopes will be slippery. Then how will we walk anywhere?

Let’s take this to another thread if you want to pursue it, but you have no facts when it comes to the AWB, only opinions.

Limiting magazine size is exactly like limiting marriage.

You get one spouse (and maybe a little action in the chamber). Any more and all the bodily fluids guarantee a slippery slope. Mopping up after orgies is definitely not in my job description.

Mind blown.

Talking about one slippery slope leads to talking about all slippery slopes.

Do you know who else talked about slippery slopes? DISNEY, that’s who!

I was going to say Lindsey Vaughn.

OK, so if I want to enter into a polygamous union with my girlfriend, my boyfriend, my goat, and my AK-47, how should the bridesmaids dress?

And, is it considered just too pretentious, these days, to write my own vows?

I’m going to start comparing Republicans to pedophiles and zoophiles from now on. Not that they’re anything at all alike mind you, of course not. They’re just, you know, have similar characteristics

Bandoliers and taffeta, of course.

No, but you may need a thesaurus, a pad of graph paper, and The Chicago Manual of Style to get the job done. A bottle of booze probably wouldn’t hurt, either.

Not if you write them ironically. Then it’s just po-mo, and you get a pass.

Not without protection. You know, bones and mercury.