Everyone is both right and wrong to blame someone else. Georges Greater Lesser screwed the pooch like a Great Dane on a Wiener Dog in heat. Obama inherited the family Georges’ steaming heaps of dog poo. But he ran for office to get them so he can’t call backsies now.
Oh brother, that’s rich! Suddenly, George W. Bush is no longer the crazy uncle no one wants to talk about. Some key Republicans have stopped running away from him like Usain Bolt with a rocket up his ass to turn and tell the world what a magnificent ass cake the Texas Tugjob really was. With apologies to Sally Field, “They hate him, they really hate him!”
Until now if you brought up George the Lesser in Republican quarters you’d likely get an, “Um, I think I left my lights on,” with a quick exit. Sure they knew he was a carbuncle on the ass of society, but how do you cop to supporting an incompetent boob for eight years and spend the next four blaming all the steaming turds he left on someone else?
It turns out you do it cravenly.
There were plenty of smoking holes left after the Shitkicker-in-Chief retired to a life of Texas Rangers baseball games and interviews about how swell it was being President. Everything from the big league economic pooch-screwing to an erosion of civil rights so complete we’re barely left with a ground down pencil nub haunts us. The Big O is responsible now, by virtue of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, but it is still an unusually big burden to bear. The screeching flock of Republican albatrosses around his neck nipping his ass doesn’t help either.