Way back in March 2011, long before the re-election of Barack Obama, I put my finger on the pulse of America and declared, “Stinky!”

Moments later, in my own inimitable manner, I also called the race for Newt Gingrich. So sorry. Thanks for playing. We’ve got some lovely parting gifts for you.

Of course Newt did not heed my portends and decided to give it ye olde college try. We all know how that turned out. It’s now part of our collective history.

Today’s regurgitated offerings are a look back at my presidential prognostication abilities. Feel free to Monday-morning quarterback my analysis all you want. It won’t change the results.

And, in a rare flash of brilliance and insight, I even made my own photoshop for the post matching current-day Newt with his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandchild. It turns out that one of the women he slept with was an alien. And that led to a few problems for Captain Kirk.

I was practically infallible in the 2012 presidential race. I even did way, way better than Turd Blossom. Click the link below to revisit my humble greatness.

I of Newt