Friday, January 16, 2009


Ever show up at a party looking your best?

You know, hair did, nails with the Chanel logos all Heidi Montag'd, high heel sneakers on, dead animal resting on your shoulders.

Hells yeah, the men all paused when you walked into the room.

Yeah, you were recycling that dress, but since Galliano don't give Dior away, you wore it again. You just blew that shit up with a brooch and that rat on your shoulders.

Oops, Mink. Ermine. Rabbit.


"I always LOVE it when you wear THAT dress!", some skank wearing far too much L'aire Du Temp poisonously coos while air kissing you from 3ft away.

L'aire Du Temp is, "could you bitches stop sending over awful groups like Air?" for cheap, heinous bitch juice. You know, French.

Or some such.

Well, Hillary Clinton is the one perfect choice the incoming President, That One, has made.

I could list the misses and near misses That One has made, but why bother?

Fuck that, here's a couple.

Let's start with WalMart anti-Semite "Pastor" Warren. Oh. Wait. Did I mention his bank, uh, church is one of those places where newly minted "Christians" come on Sundays and praise some God who I'm not familiar with ("Who is this God you speak of? And why does this God need a private jet?").

This banker, uh, "Pastor" preaches hate in the form of Homophobia wrapped in the Won Ton of "I do lots of work fighting AIDS in Africa". Just one thing Mr. Drysdale. The number one way to prevent AIDS in sexually active people is to slap a Jimmy Hat on the ole Thanga Dang Dang. Well. Mr. Drysdale doesn't believe in that. No. He believes the way to prevent AIDS in Africa is to keep your legs crossed.

After all, AIDS in Africa is caused by women having sex. Not restricted access to condoms.

Stupid sluts.

The way to prevent AIDS in America is is for Homosexuals (in case you're new around here, I am THE leading advocate of "The Love That Dare Not Speak It's Name") to stop, well, being, uh, Homosexuals.


"And we have a course for it! Thursdays. Right after "Obeying your dumbass husband, it's Gods will."

Right after.

Well, That One has Mr.Drysdale, uh, "Pastor" Warren giving the immolation next week at the inauguration.

Did I say "immolation"?

Hmph. Freudian. Whatever.

So. One down.

Let's move on.

Then there's that fat, hairy fuck Miranda Veracruz de la Jolla Cardinal.

Oops. Bill Richardson.

Or as us former Hillary girls know him, Iago.

I hate him. Not only is he treacherous and duplicitous, he's hairy.

But what's worse is that he is my least favorite thing.

Ethnic by convenience.

Like Black people who say "African American" when there is a paycheck involved (or white people in the room. Black people say that around white people to make you guys feel better. Or worse. It depends. On you.). Iago is "Mexican/Hispanic/Latino" whenever he NEEDS to be.

Running for office or a cabinet appointment, he gets all, "Si, es muy bueno, si se puede, Senor Negro!"

I hate him. He so thoroughly stabbed the Clinton's in the back that I had nothing but glee when his job as Secretary of Whatever the fuck he was up for fell through.

What's my point and how does Hillary Clinton and a stylish, yet, recycled designer outfit and a dead rat figure into all of this?

Is this your first time around these here parts? Hang on Tonya Harding. Put the stick away and be patient. Like an eighty year old millionaire with a bag of Viagra, I always pay off.

If you stick around long enough.

Here's my point.

I know, finally!

Fuck you.

In today's paper that harridan, Maureen Dowd, manages to, yet again, find something bad to say about the Clinton's.

I love me some of That One.

I do.

I swear.


But, That One has made some choices I just cannot stand.

Were you here earlier?

The one choice EVERYONE agrees was a no brainer and majorly smart, was Hillary Clinton as Sec. of State. Love her or hate her, she's the logical choice. And since That One decided to give, What's His Name the Second Banana gig, Sec. of State was the only job worthy of her (watch her nail the Nobels next year.).

Everyone except for Maureen Dowd. This C, oops, I promised myself I wouldn't use the word CUNT this year.


Anyways, Dowdy, seems to not be able to "get over it" like she bleated throughout the primaries and thereafter about 18 million Clintonettes. She drags Hillary and Bill through the mud and implies that they are sitting in their den of evilosity plotting against That One.

Drink much Hatoraid lately?

She must sit in front of her mirror talking to some evil Queen hour after hour asking the same question over and over.

"Mirror Mirror, on the wall, who is the smartest Woman of them all?"

"Hillary, my dear, it aint you I fear"

"Fuck you Mirror!" Dowdy probably screams.

"Fuck you back, you miserable, untalented hack!" I'm sure the mirror retorts.

Right after the Mirror calls her a C..Damn I said I wasn't going to write CUNT again!


No really.


My point?

Do I have to spell it out?



In the new year, self confidence is the new Black (not African American.). The next time you've got your Wig Hat and your High Heel Sneakers on and some Bitch tries to remind you, and everyone around you, that you're giving it to the children, yet again,in THAT dress, just think of that Mirror at Dowdy's house.

Smile politely.

Air kiss back.

And whisper.


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