Larry Flynt | Free Speech Activist

"If you're not going to offend somebody, you don't need the First Amendment."

- Larry Flynt

Larry Flynt

Greg Gutfeld

We weren’t sure Fox News’ late-night laxative had what it takes to be worthy of the world’s most feared award. But once we scratched his smarmy surface, we found enough shit to fill ten assholes.

Greg Gutfeld got our attention with his potshots at HUSTLER’s publisher. “Larry Flynt is incapable of hypocrisy because he lacks standards to betray,” Gutfeld wrote in his unreadable Bible of Unspeakable Truths. “[He’s] a man without values who delighted in exposing hypocrisy, but who also admitted to having sex with a chicken. Talk about lack of standards: That chicken’s a skank.”

Gutfeld may be a wiseass stuck at frat-boy stage who’s made a career out of painfully labored jokes, but he’s also a man of mystery. Not a good or cool mystery like who is Batman. More like a what-the-hell-is-that-at-the-bottom-of-the-cesspool mystery.

For starters, what does Greg Gutfeld really believe? This political whore says he abandoned the left because they couldn’t take a joke and can’t be loyal to the right because they hate stuff he likes. Now he’s a mouthpiece-for-hire libertarian. Basically, he’s a guy who spends his life in a losing struggle with irrelevance. He went from driving limp-dick mags like Stuff and Maxim into the ground to hosting a roundtable of fellow failed comedians for middle-of-the-night drunks who pass out on the couch.

As Gutfeld proclaims in his latest mind-number, The Joy of Hate, his new rule is: “Be a jerk.” That’s right. The conservative cause has swirled so far down the drain, the new dictum is “Fuck it, just be a jerk.” How refreshing.

By his own account, he’s the douche in high school and college who scoffed at anyone trying to make anything better. “The longer I live, the more I’m convinced the world is just one big high school, with the cool kids always targeting the uncool,” he writes. Guess who the “cool kids” are now. Look out, the “Liberals” are ready to rumble!

The Joy of Hate is a litany of reasons why Gutfeld and his idols (Palin, Limbaugh, Reagan’s corpse) feel picked on. Lefties beat them with the “truncheon of tolerance,” he whines. These imaginary armies of “phony outrage” he dubs the “tolerati.” Guess what, they suffer from a “false sense of victimhood.” Sound familiar? Epic fail Mitt Romney peddled the same “people who believe they are victims” line to historically nonphony effect.

Cursed with his particular political sluttiness, Gutfeld resorts to pretzel logic, like: “Being conservative is a rebellion against predictable rebellion. It’s more daring to be traditional than to subvert tradition.” For him, all outrage—whether about smoking, racism, Tea Partiers or climate change “skepticism”—is just “a place to park your intolerance.” That’s intolerance by the “tolerati” who fetishize tolerance, of course. If you can keep up with that, you’re higher than we are.

When leftists fight for “wussy” causes like social justice and a level playing field, Gutfeld claims, “They don’t really believe that shit—they’re going against their own innate nature because liberalism is anti-man.” He seriously thinks men who fight for things like civil rights and scientific progress are just out to get laid. He calls this fantasy of liberalism for sex a “deal with the devil.” Let’s see if we got this straight: Liberalism is a pussy magnet, but it’s also strictly for “wussies” and losers: “Even with the deck so stacked in their favor,” he writes, “the left still can’t seal the deal. Because their message just doesn’t jibe with the American people.” He wrote this just before Romney had his ass handed to him by Obama in the national election. How was that, again, Greg? What message doesn’t jibe?

In his rant against Occupy Wall Street, Gutfeld writes, nonjokingly: “I will wager that most of the students who were [pepper-] sprayed wouldn’t have traded that moment for a million bucks.” They were in it for the extra credit, bragging rights and “later, a job in media or academia.” Besides, he says, being pepper-sprayed is no big deal; “the discomfort fades fast.” Okay, Greg, prove it. Take a shot right in the face. We’ll give you extra credit.

Then there’s that other mystery: Is he gay or isn’t he? Gutfeld’s love-hate relationship to mutual man love is one of the saddest parts of his bowel-like psyche. He says he likes gay marriage, but tosses his dickhead fan base a bone by comparing it to marrying your dog. Been done, Greg.

Obsessively spouting quips about groping houseboys and banging his male guests, our A-hole comes off like a cartoon version of an unouted, homophobic Republican. (Is it a coincidence the poor kid was reared in “a Jesuit-Catholic all-boys high school?”)

Gutfeld’s apparent gay subtext, it turns out, is actually one of his running gags: As he divulges in The Joy of Hate, his secret-life schtick is a game he dreamt up with fellow ex-lefty Andrew Breitbart to see if foes would “resort to calling me a homosexual.” As for us, we couldn’t care less where he sticks his dick, unless it’s in S.E. Cupp and somebody took photos. Come to think of it, Greg, you could prove your hetero cred by sending us shots of you putting it to your hot beard, Elena Moussa. (Can’t promise we won’t Photoshop you out.)

Making crapola claims like “I’ve never met more tolerant people than Texans,” he seriously says if you’re a “gay cross-dressing cowboy,” you should enforce that tolerance with a shotgun. So, in other words, if you demand respect verbally, you’re “tolerati,” but letting two barrels do the talking is okay. We can only hope Greg starts messing with gay black Texans.

His take on race is just as twisted. He quotes a friend of his, saying “the only people hurt by racism these days are the racists.” Seriously? Tell that to the black kid on Staten Island beaten with a pipe and the teenage girl shot to death in L.A.—just two out of hundreds of recent hate crimes.

We could go on about his endless crap—all of which is a big rimjob for boss Roger Ailes—but we’re already bored of Gutfeld and his stale humor. He’s the kind of wad that probably thinks being called Asshole of the Month is an honor. We created it, Greg, so take it from us: It’s not.

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