Years ago, I used to work at a radio station doing the news. It wasn’t a bad gig except for the fact that it was a country/western radio station who considered Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings to be dope-smokin’ Jesus hatin’ hippies. Honey, there’s only so much Porter Waggoner and Tammy Wynette a girl can take without yelling shut-the-hell-up.

One time just before the noon news, a DJ who was particularly obnoxious to any women who worked at the station, put on a Wilf Carter, the “yodeling” cowboy, tune and ran for the bathroom. As records were apt to do years ago, it started skipping, and for all that is holy in heaven, I promise you that it sounded exactly like Wilf was yodeling the F word. Over, and over, and over. It was a thing of great beauty.

It went on for at least three minutes before the DJ got back. That same exact thing happened to Marco Rubio, and it was also a thing of great beauty, amusement, and the complete death of a political career.

Look, I’m not saying that Marco Rubio is a robot, but I sure would like to see him walk through a metal detector.

I’m putting this here too you can watch it again, and again, and again.

Thank you, sweet saints of robots.

Best line of the night came from my friend Bob, who said, “Hey, if I wanted to watch a fat guy scream at a little kid for 10 minutes, I’d go to Walmart.”