Heartless jerk Steve Spruiell continues to flop, flail and moan like an Italian soccer player in the middle of a penalty dive because we made fun of his outmoded Byron-Yorkish locks. I didn’t see all of the tweets shown below when Steve first spluttered them out yesterday, mainly because Steviekins doesn’t have the Twitter reply thing quite figured out yet, but I thought that all you SadlyNauts! might find them amusing.
Notice he goes on and one about everything BUT what started this in the first place — namely, my query as what kind of hypocritical simpleton complains, on a site that doesn’t allow comments, about Krugman putting a limit on the length of comments at his own blog? Hey, Stevie, come on. Step up to the plate on this one and take your best
swing whiff at it.
Not bloody likely, of course. Steve-o would rather whine about how I was making fun of his kid, which I wasn’t (unless, of course, the haircut was the kid’s idea, which, frankly, seems unlikely). But this effort by Steve to fall on his Sarah Palin memorial fainting couch clutching his progeny to his breast is, frankly, pretty lame given that I showed more concern for the little tyke, by pixelating his face, than Spruiell did when he posted the identifiable picture in the first place. Steve at first seemed to concede this until he got all tanked up on Cap’n Morgans and Sunny Delight last night in his double wide and started tweeting again.
UPDATE: Oh, and how about we place a little side bet on how long it will be before Steve calls me a fag?