Glenn is gettin' all misty pining for simpler times, like when Joe Greene threw lil' Glenn his Steelers jersey. Or when his home movies were narrated by Paul Anka, courtesy of Kodak, who had ZERO intention of shilling a product, just capturing the golden hue that was little Beckeroonie's salad days.
Yes, don't you wish we could go back to days that never were. Where dad never worried about his job security or making a mortgage payment. Where mom was never screwing the postman. And the milkman. Together.
Or was it the simpler time before women had to mess up the vote and negroes still knew where the back of the bus was?
Then he tells us we're at a beer party we shouldn't be at and we need to get home before Ward whips the Beav. Or we get into an accident and Jan and Dean have to write another teenage death anthem: "Glenn Went Over The Guardrail (Head First)".
Is this conclusive proof he's crazy? No. But when one pines for a simpler time that wasn't, questions have to be asked.
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WOW!!! I think we should rename Glenn Beck to Francium(Fr). It is the most unstable element of the first one hundred elements. Cause this dude is just fuckin' nuts! His show is the equivilent of watching Farah Faucett having a conversation with Joaquin Phoenix. Uncomfortable to watch.
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