Alas, we mere mortals can but abide His infinite wisdom – God’s not Gutfeld’s. Resigned, I shouldered the onus of reading the late night jackanape’s scatological tome. Afterwards, I showered…alone…in a hair shirt…and then burned it to commence my decontamination and atonement.
Oddly, no matter how hard I scoured his book and myself, the indelible fact remained – Gutfeld’s Unspeakable Truths is, in his idiosyncratic idiom, “Supersexyawesome!”
Oh, it’s not because of his solipsistic obsession with his weight, nasty habits, backrubs, pool boys, unicorns, backrubs from pool boys riding unicorns, or his feigned interest in Ms. Megan Fox, whom he importunes to call him. [Ms. Fox: Do NOT call Gutfeld.] Rather, it’s because, at root, Gutfeld is a philosophical conservative mud wrestling with a chaotic world rife with inane Leftists, all of whom he endeavors to foist by their own petard (or by the trapeze set in his “rumpus room”).