In the matter of M. Turdblossom, a few limericks to give us hope:
I can see the end of Turdblossom.
Oh, it's dark like a dirty night possum:
The reporters grows stones
And won't leave him alone
And now they all want to bust him!
Oh Karl Rove, where are you going?
Isn't there something that you should be showing?
For five years you lied
Now you desperately hide
From the turdblossoms you have been growing.
Please feel free to add your own. The winner get's all the 4s I can muster!