I find it really rich that Limbaugh would consider union workers pampered and overpaid. This, coming from a mega-millionaire whose idea of “work” is to sit on his fat ass in his air-conditioned studio, spewing lies into a microphone for a few hours a day. No wonder Limbaugh pulls down hundreds of millions of dollars from anti-union corporate America.
Memo to Limbaugh: you don’t have a f*cking clue as to what real work is. I’m talking about the sort of physically demanding work done every day by millions of ordinary blue collar union workers across America.
Maybe if Limbaugh had ever actually done any real physical work in his life, he wouldn’t have the bloated physique of Jabba the Hutt.
I myself know a thing or two about physical labor, having worked in grueling blue collar jobs much of my life, often for little pay and crappy benefits. I once had a job leveling foundations, where I had to crawl underneath houses, lugging heavy equipment. I don’t which was worse: the stifling heat, the claustrophobic conditions—or the snake that once slithered over my face while I was lying on my back underneath a house.
In later years, I worked on factory assembly lines — but the work wasn’t much easier. I once worked at a factory gate assembly job, where the razor-sharp gate components often sliced my fingers. At the end of a shift, my uniform was often so blood-splattered that anyone who saw me likely assumed I worked as a butcher.
Of course, I’m hardly alone in my experiences as a blue collar worker. Tens of millions of us toil away every day and we find that it’s increasingly difficult to earn a living, no matter how hard we work.
There’s only one way to know what it’s like to struggle as a working-class person these days — and that’s to live the life first-hand. I suspect that people like Limbaugh (who came from a wealthy background) thinks he understands what it’s like to be struggling and working-class in America. And if that’s the case, he’s even more delusional that his radio ramblings would indicate.
It really galls me when I hear this fat piece of sh*t Limbaugh spew out his anti-worker, anti-union diatribes. Limbaugh wouldn’t know real work if it bit him on the ass. For that matter, people in Limbaugh’s elite social circles never have any real face-to-face contact with ordinary working Americans. (It’s laughable that Limbaugh claims to be a fan of Walmart — does anyone really think he shops there?)
Which brings me to my challenge for Limbaugh.
Limbaugh: I challenge you to go to any factory in any mean, down-on-its-luck Rust Belt city. I challenge you to walk up to the assembly line and tell the union workers to their face that they’re pampered, overpaid and that they’re “thugs” and not patriotic.
Oh, and be sure to bring along a lot of OxyContin — because when you insult these union workers, you’re going to be in a lot of pain after they beat the sh*t out of you.
Of course, being the chickensh*t coward that you are, I’m sure that you’ll never take me up on this challenge.
Instead, you’ll continue to sit in one of your lavish mega-million-dollar mansions, smoking your fancy $200 cigars and drinking your $1,000 bottles of fine French wine. You’ll continue to rake in hundreds of millions of dollars for spewing your lies into a microphone and attacking ordinary people who do real work for a living.
Enjoy your lavish lifestyle while you can, Limbaugh. Someday it’s all going to come crashing down on your head. History shows what happens in nations where millions of people grow increasingly hungry and desperate, while a pampered leech class rakes in obscene amounts of money, while presiding over (and controlling) a corrupt and out-of-touch political system. Just ask Marie Antoinette.
You can ignore my challenge, Limbaugh. But you’re not going to be able to ignore the angry cries of the hungry mob when it comes crashing through your front gate some day.
(Cross-posted at BeggarsCanBeChoosers.)