Pious. Pompous. Pushing Up Daisies

I don’t think I’ve ever actually felt joy at someone’s demise…until today. Jerry Falwell, the scourge of good sense and humility, no longer needs his long distance card to talk directly to God. I say good riddance to the fucking moonbat, the Virtuoso of Vitriol. It’s just a shame he didn’t get to linger on life support and suffer some. Rest in pieces, Jackass.