Pictured (l to r): Sexist limpwrist; racist blowhard.

Sen. B. Hussein Obama (Weatherman – IL) recently cut an ad denigrating Gov. Palin’s habit of winking to underscore a point she’s making to an audience; the Dhimmicrat is trying to make sexist hay with the governor’s gesture by implying it’s somehow weak or femmy.  (If such qualities were actually disqualifiers for high office then Chickenlegs himself would, of course, have to be rushed to the nearest hospital for an emergency masculinity transfusion.)

But Sarah-cuda or rather her backers didn’t take this one sitting down.  In rejoinder, here’s the Team Sarah ad, apparently in defiance of McCain’s palsied, hopeless little rules about not bringing up B. Hussein’s twenty-year tutelage by ordained-through-the-mail-with-cereal-boxtops Rev. Jerrummayah Uhwrighat (my attempted transliteration of the old thug’s patois).

Barky’s pretty lucky he’s only running against a polite old gentleman of 72 who pussyfoots around the terrorist padrino and the seditious preacher. If that hurricane of élan vital Gov. Palin were the nominee, she’d have long ago done to Barky Hussein what Jesse Jackson yearned to do – except, alas, that Barky’s feral wife long ago nipped ’em off with her lower teeth and keeps ’em in her sack. Her purse I mean.

Vagina dentata.  (Not pictured: tucked phallus and scrotum.)

Why’s Miss Priss bitching – and that’s all it is, bitching – about Gov. Palin’s wink anyway? ’Cause it’s a delightful vernacular touch the Punahou Pimp can never simulate no matter how many gs he labors to drop from his participles – and ’cause reptiles can’t nictitate, right? Except when spitting poison with their forked tongues.



Beauty and two beasts (l to r): Gov. Sarah Palin (R-AK); untalented lesbian nobody; C-list Hollywood starlet Lintseed Lame-ham.

(Purulence, CA) Lintseed Lame-ham, professional lesbian and poxed whore popular with teenagers, today awarded her coveted Presidential endorsement to first-term Senator Barack Hussein Obama (Marxist-IL). In giving Obama her imprimatur and attacking Gov. Sarah Palin (R-AK) Lame-ham joins other grave elder statesmen such as Pam Anderson, Margaret Cho and Matt Damon.

Asked whether she was troubled by Obama’s now-notorious racist remark that “White folks’ greed runs a world in need,” since she is a rich white folk herself, Lame-ham laughed off the question. “He can, like, totally say that ’cause he IS white. He’s only black in the sense his mama was fortuitously fertilized by a traveling Kenyan academic. Other’n that, he’s been fostered solely by rich white-guilt people, from Punahou prep school to Harvard.” Asked if she knew what a law review is or why Obama mysteriously never wrote any legal scholarship while purportedly editing one, Lint-seed averted her raccoon-mascara eyes and popped her gum a little louder.

Lame-ham then smirked, or perhaps it was only a fleeting flatulence, fore or aft. “Imagine the reaction in the Kool-Aid media if John McCain had said ‘Black folkssloth makes the spinning of the moth.’ Like, omigod…” Here Lint-seed interrupted herself to plunge a hand down her waistband, scratching what seemed to be a fiery itch high on her inner thigh. When relief obtained she withdrew fingernail from fundament and resumed: “Yeah, and Sarah Palin’s like, crass and stupid or something.”


Asked whether she could locate Alaska on a map without assistance, Lint-seed bristled: “Of course! That’s that state in the South where the Democrat governor turned fire hoses on black people, but then Abraham Washington freed the slaves so everything was like, okay and shit, and…” Here Lame-ham again broke off, raising the aforementioned fingernail to nostril, then gingerly fingered her upper lip, red and puffy from what appeared to be carpet burn.

“I’m as corny as Kansas in August…”: Mary Martin as Obamatard prole Chris Matthews (minus the paunch).

Your faithful blogging servant’s rather pressed with my day job today, candid readers, but in the interest of your having something toothsome to read (and mirthful to gaze on) herewith a few bons mots from Mark Steyn in today’s National Review:

This is an amazing race. The incumbent president has approval ratings somewhere between Robert Mugabe and the ebola virus. The economy is supposedly on the brink of global Armageddon. McCain has only $80 million to spend, while Obama’s burning through $600 mil as fast as he can, and he doesn’t really need to spend a dime given the wall-to-wall media adoration. And tonight Chris Matthews’ doctors announced that his leg tingle has metastasized leaving his entire body like a vibrating cellphone whose ringtone is locked on “I’m In Love, I’m In Love, I’m In Love, I’m In Love, I’m In Love With A Wonderful Guy.”

And yet an old cranky broke loser is within two or three points of the King of the World. Strange.

Just so.  Here’s the tall, dark and handsome Matthews in a typical pose:

I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair… As soon as I grow some.  Aside from out my ears and nostrils, I mean.  Sling me some more of that corned beef hash, Ma — puts hair on your back!

So, just as the Daley Democrats did in Illinois, 1960, along with several thousand of LBJ’s closest deceased friends in Texas, be sure to vote early, and often.  The Dhimmicrats certainly are, snuffling their snouts through a nice rich trove of moldy ACORNs in the gloomy forests of Ohio.  Thus this:

I say, just let John McCain channel his inner Dick Nixon for five minutes (my beloved homeboy, born and now lying at rest just a few miles east of here in Yorba Linda).  Then ain’t no skinny slick Harvard-educated pimp in the world gonna cheat him out of his victory, dead man voting or no.

Buying salsa in Albuquerque: still ¡muy picante!

The most accurate 2004 presidential poll was Investor’s Business Daily/TIPP, which predicted Bush’s margin of victory (over Kerry) within three-tenths of one percent of the actual outcome. No other pollster was so accurate.

IBD/TIPP now calls the national race between McCain and Obama as a 2.8% Obama lead, extremely close and well within the margin of error, and notes a slow but steady movement toward McCain/Palin in the final two weeks:


These data suggest what I have suspected for weeks: the pro-Obama mainstream media and pollsters are cooking their poll numbers by deliberately overestimating youth and black turnout, Democrat over GOP voter identification, and the percentage of undecideds who will break for Obama. (You’ll note that IBD/TIPP puts undecideds at 8.8% — that’s huge, and rely upon it that many of them, being cautious and hesitant to make a mistake, won’t suddenly embrace risk and vote Obama when they finally get in the polling booth.)

The bottom line: The mainstream media, desperate to get Obama elected, are trying to suppress independent and Republican turnout and to demoralize McCain/Palin voters. Ignore them. The race is extremely close, as the Obama campaign well knows; it continues to campaign hard especially in Colorado. If Colorado, which reliable polling says is right now a dead heat, goes McCain/Palin then they will almost certainly win the national election.

Or, if you prefer Gallup, its poll now shows an even closer race, 49% Obama to 47% McCain, using their traditional (and therefore more reliable) model of likely voters:


The expanded model relies, unwisely, on the assumption that there will be a huge upswing in the under-30 turnout, and in first-time voters. We’ve heard the same confident predictions in the past two election cycles — and in both, Gore and Kerry, who were supposed to be swept over the top by such voters, went down to defeat.

Therefore, now more than ever, please remember that the race is far from over. On the contrary, it is extremely close, and the only way the Obama Democrats can win Colorado (and the election) is by demoralizing and suppressing McCain/Palin turnout. Please forward or publicize this information to friends and coworkers, especially those who may unwisely be paying attention to the cooked poll numbers (read: propaganda to suppress the McCain/Palin vote) being pushed by the pro-Obama mainstream media.

And finally, here’s a fascinating blog post by Hillbuzz, a prominent Hillary Clinton supporter working in the (large but unreported) DeMcCrats effort, Hillary voters for McCain/Palin. It seems that, just as suspected, Obama is poised to lose Pennsylvania and therefore the election, because union and other Democrat voters simply won’t vote for a pencilneck radical who hates them and America, whatever they may say on the record:


Makes perfect sense, really. It was Pennsylvania voters whom Obama insulted behind their backs in San Francisco as “bitter” working people who “cling” to Christianity and their Second Amendment rights. That, and the fact that Pennsylvania Congressman Jack Murtha, he of the shameful libel of the Haditha Marines, recently got caught calling his constituents “racists” and “rednecks.”

Mirthful Murtha the Merciless: libeler and America-hater (i.e. Democrat in good standing).

If the spirit moves you, you can join Fred Thompson, Mike Huckabee and the NRCC in donating to the campaign of Murtha’s worthy opponent, Col. William “Bill” Russell who now stands an excellent chance of forcibly retiring this poisonous old tub of guts.

Even absent his and Murtha’s stupid mistakes, though, how exactly was Barky Hussein likely to win a state where Hillary trounced him 55%-45% in the primary?

Fair-weather douchebag.

As various MSM polls in the last two weeks, conveniently loaded with more Democrats than Republicans, seemed to show McCain/Palin down by a large margin, your faithful servant has been amused — and disgusted — to see a rustling pack of “conservative” journalists throw principles overboard and, tripping over their tails in their haste, try to flee the sinking McCain/Palin ship.  (It’s now apparent that McCain/Palin is actually buoying up big-time, per the latest polling, but more on that shortly.)

It’s a ratty rogues’ gallery of time-servers, temporizers and prosy tools: Christopher Buckley, now formerly of National Review; David Brooks of the New York Times (the nose-picker pictured above), Peggy Noonan of the Wall Street Journal, Rod Dreher of the Dallas Morning News, to name just four.  Bitten by a gnawing lust for a seat at the table in the imminent Obama new order, these sharp-toothed little Rattus republicanus have turned squeaking to bite a chunk from the hand that feeds them (for each name I’ve just named, the feeding, or payment for feed, is literally true).

And what an infernal din of squeaks it’s been, too!  We’ve witnessed the unseemly spectacle of hypocrite, heavy-lidded mandarins filing giggly man-crush columns with National Review: Obama “a first-class temperament and a first-class intellect” (he is neither), for which Bill Buckley’s old journal, to stop the old boy spinning in his grave, promptly fired his quisling brat.

But it hasn’t just been Cwis Buckwey dancing in front of the barbarian army like some dopey Ten Commandments extra, strewing rose petals before the conquering hero.  (An image that’s doubly funny because, I mean, try to imagine Obama wielding anything more lethal than a fingernail file!  Which, of course, the brave slanderer of our fighting men in Afghanistan would only use to pick on someone smaller than his own size: yes, he’d doubtless brandish it at the defenseless babies who survive doctor-assisted infanticide in Illinois.)

No, there are even fouler toads burrowed into the MSM muck who’ve been sticking a knife in the back of McCain/Palin when it seemed opportune.  The toads in question are, believe it or not, further down the scale of life even than Cwis Buckwey, dutifully polishing his Mulatto Messiah’s fundament with tongue-brush.  There are some backbiting Grub Street dogs — mostly neo-conservatives, and what a joke that, as if men with City College Leninists for fathers could be trusted to love America — who’ve found that the MSM will dish out a horse’s hoof or two if they sharpen their tongues against McCain or Palin personally, over and above merely laving Obama’s backside.

One toad in particular has descended to the occasion: the fetid, cross-eyed finger-drummer David Brooks, now mildly infamous for his outpouring of calumny and trash on Sarah Palin (the adipose sweater called her a “cancer” in the Republican party at some dull Atlantic panel, where he inhaled big plates of the free lunch between betrayings).  On his NewsHour with Jim Lehrer segments, Brooks’ sweaty, seat-squirming twitchiness suggests a schizophrenic just barely keeping it together — or should we infer that the obviously well-fed Brooks has just fouled, or is about to, his small-clothes?  In Brooks’ case, one should perhaps feels pity since his daily bread, in the form of those disjoint, constipated columns he squeezes out for the New York Slimes, may very well depend on hailing the conquering Obamatard hero.

Still, just ’cause Judas may have actually needed those30 pieces of silver to make his condo payment, doesn’t mean I can’t despise him for it.  Unlike the man who betrayed Christ, however, we’ll probably wait in vain for the loathsome Brooks to develop enough decency to step outside and hang himself, and in any case if he were to “burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out” the pile-up might block traffic on Columbus Avenue for hours.

David Brooks in his natural environment.

The perspiring amphibian Brooks and his knives in the back are, however, nothing new to the skeptical student of human nature.  Veterinarians report that there are tapeworms more loyal to the horse’s intestines, than Brooks to benefactors — but he’s just the latest and smallest worm in a long line of them.  Yes, Booger Dave is what the Roman historian Velleius Paterculus memorably called the late Republican consul Plancus, a morbo proditor — a “chronic traitor,” or possibly “a betrayer by reason of congenital defect.”  The whole history of the late Roman republic, in fact, is more than a little in my mind these days, with its glum tale of all those Romans, low and high, who betrayed family, rank and even nation to help install the rabble-rousing upstart Octavian in supreme power as Augustus Caesar — thinking they’d be thrown a bone in the new order.  Trying to do my bit to satirize and condemn the David Brooks and Cwis Buckweys, the chronic traitors of 2008, I can’t do better than quote the great historian Sir Ronald Syme on the end of the Roman republic:

Superfluous the effort either to arraign or to rehabilitate the robust careerists who helped to found the monarchy.  Like violence, guile and treachery prospered.  Q. Dellius, proverbial for agility, deserted every side at the right moment… Plancus could smile at the impotent envy of his detractors and the ignoble appellation of a chronic traitor — “morbo proditor.”  Fools or fanatics perished along with lost causes: the traitors and time-servers survived, earning the gratitude of the Roman people. (The Roman Revolution, 511-12)

Quite.  But now, lo and behold!  It seems that Booger Brooks, Cwis Buckwey, Mad Meg Noonan and Rod BeDreher may have sharpened their knives a moment too soon!  You can visit Real Clear Politics or Gallup or any of the other poll sites — or better yet, visit Drudge because his headlines get right to the point and aren’t varnished with pro-Obama frosting.  Or simply visit Gateway Pundit’s tasty, succinct summary of the new polling situation following McCain’s smackdown of Miss Priss in the last debate on Wednesday.  It seems that McCain/Palin is now buoying up big-time in the latest polling — and the opportunist Obama flatterers, who formerly got away with calling themselves conservatives, are left hoist on their own petard, their tiny, tiny generative parts flapping in the breeze.  And I for one can’t get enough of it!  More egg for their faces!

As Dick Morris and a few other stone-cold steel-trap analysts have been saying for days, Obama’s polling almost certainly peaked last week, and will probably continue to bleed a point or so every three days from now until the election, as all the dippy sheeple who liked the way it felt when the ObaMessiah tickled their ears — much like the idiot who kept hitting himself on the head with a hammer, because he liked how it felt when he stopped — gulp and get bug-eyed and feel the shakes of buyer’s remorse at the thought of actually, for real, putting this far-Left amateur in the White House.  And not a moment too soon.

Against the gathering darkness of the Left’s resurgence, as the wolves outside in the dark sniff and whine closer and closer to the firelight, the cultural Right is nevertheless warmed and lighted by an iconic tableau: the simple, powerful image of Gov. Sarah Palin carrying her infant son, Trig.

Little Trig, as everyone knows, was born with Down Syndrome.  So this tableau is iconic in the sense that it figures the unqualified, compassionate love of a normal mother for her child, especially one who’s weak or vulnerable.  But this tableau is also iconic in the religious sense, for it strongly, almost uncannily suggests another icon loved by millions, both living and dead, for nine hundred years: the Theotokos (Our Lady) of Vladimir:

Here is more on the Vladimirskaya icon.

What is it about a mother’s compassion and love for her helpless child that, in the form of the Vladimirskaya, has for a thousand years lighted the minds and lifted the hearts of Orthodox Christians (and others who honor the Theotokos)?  And what is it about a mother’s compassion and love for her helpless child that, in the form of Gov. Palin and her infant son, has darkened the minds and filled the hearts of the American Left with a spitting, hissing frenzy of malevolence?  (You can often hear their teeth, set on edge, grinding right through their blog posts.)  The answers to these questions are closely related.

I recall the second epistle of St Paul to the Corinthians, in which the apostle candidly admits his powerlessness, like an infant’s, to preserve his own life — and yet his very debility is, paradoxically, what he secretly shares with the Source of life: “And lest I should be exalted above measure… there was given to me a thorn in the flesh… For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.  And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” (12:7-9)  What does this mean?  St Paul acknowledges that even he is debilitated and weak, like Trig Palin and all the other little children who, except one receive the kingdom of God as one of them, he shall in no wise enter therein (St Luke 18:17).  In this, the apostle tries to imitate the God whom he believes had, by descending to Incarnation and Crucifixion, Himself experienced the most appalling weakness: human birth and death.  St Paul had for years prayed to be healed of his personal, unnamed chronic debility — but at length he understands that the “thorn in the flesh” he first thought a disability, is in fact a means of keeping him from a false (and deadly) sense of security.  Compare here Kallistos Ware’s observations on fasting in The Lenten Triodion:

The purpose of this is to lead us in turn to a sense of inward brokenness and contrition; to bring us, that is, to the point where we appreciate the full force of Christ’s statement, ‘Without Me you can do nothing’ (John 15:5). If we always take our fill of food and drink, we easily grow over-confident in our own abilities, acquiring a false sense of autonomy and self-sufficiency. The observance of a physical fast undermines this sinful complacency. Stripping from us the specious assurance of the Pharisee – who fasted, it is true, but not in the right spirit – Lenten abstinence gives us the saving self dissatisfaction of the Publican (Luke 18:10-13). Such is the function of the hunger and the tiredness: to make us ‘poor in spirit’, aware of our helplessness and of our dependence on God’s aid.

And by Trig Palin’s very palpable “helplessness and… dependence” on his loving parent’s aid for life, by the instinctual love for her that moves his wordless heart despite his mind’s simplicity — indeed, because he exists at all, because his mother proudly cares for him in the course of public appearances — this tiny baby is a sharp, glowing stick in the eye to the big men of the secular Left: materialist professors, abortionist senators, journalist hypocrites.  Simply by nestling in his mother’s arms, Trig Palin is a particularly vivid rebuke of their culture of death; just resting together, he and his mother give the lie to modernity’s cult of the self, with its bestial rebellion against every form of self-restraint and self-sacrifice.

These cruel utilitarians are eager to kill people to help them: the unborn, the disabled, the gravely ill.  But mercifully their homicidal urges extend no further than their fellow human beings.  Many of the same far Lefties who hate Trig and Sarah Palin are right now spending millions of dollars in California to pass Prop. 2, a measure that would mandate chickens receive a two-bedroom condo and a yard on the farm.  Chickens.  But no surprise here — whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad.  And weeping for the plight of poultry while affirming that there’s a Constitutional right to stick a fork in a baby’s head provided he hasn’t been born yet, to borrow from Ann Coulter, is mad.  But for the secular Left abortion is of course, again in Coulter’s phrase, the holiest sacrament.*  To recur to Biblical imagery, recall the allegory of the woman clothed with the sun, her unborn child menaced by a seven-headed, ten-horned “great red dragon,” which “stood before the woman which was ready to be delivered, for to devour her child as soon as it was born.” (Revelation 12:3-4)  The child is miraculously caught up to heaven, but “when the dragon saw that he was cast unto the earth, he persecuted the woman which brought forth the man child.” (12:13)  Indeed.

But one can and should express Trig Palin’s iconic significance for a culture of life in positive terms too.  I choose the first stanza of “The Salutation,” a poem by the Anglican priest and poet Thomas Traherne, still dew-fresh after 350 years:

These little Limmes,
These Eys and Hands which here I find,
These rosie Cheeks wherwith my Life begins,
Where have ye been? Behind
What Curtain were ye from me hid so long!
Where was? in what Abyss, my Speaking Tongue?

(Here’s a link to the complete poem in plain Jane layout — a free site, you get what you pay for.)

Little Trig Palin, his little limbs and rosy cheeks, as yet without a “Speaking Tongue,” is the very picture of strength made perfect in weakness.  He is a living reminder to the hedonist Baby Boomer generation that love of family ends in new life, but love of self ends in nothing.

In passing let it be recalled, however, that far and away most young people, let alone all people, during the 1960s were much more Nixon’s Silent Majority than Bill Ayers’ bomb-planting scum.  Scholarly historiography’s only now coming to grips with this fact, since the tenured radicals who’ve hitherto written the history of the ’60s had their gazes lovingly, unshakably fixed on their own linty navels.  In aid of redressing this imbalance, just out from Harvard is The Sixties Unplugged: A Kaleidoscopic History of a Disorderly Decade by Gerard DeGroot, who teaches at St Andrews, Scotland.  (Hat tip to Septimus Waugh who reviewed DeGroot for The American Conservative‘s Sept. 22 number.)

But as for Humphrey’s Yelling Minority: they thought it would never happen, that self-absorbed and self-pleasing generation of ’68.  But the spoiled college kids who burned draft cards and bras, raised in and rotted by postwar prosperity, are shocked to look up now and find themselves graying, stiffening, bending every day, bit by bit, toward the grave.  Because they have worshiped strength, they are only made weak in their weakness; because they have loved what is corruptible, themselves, what they love vanishes and is forgotten.  What is at the same time more hilarious and more obnoxious than an untidy old hippie, still stinking in his tie-dyes, stringy, greasy hairs now turned white?  Compare this decayed old Berkeley special — mighty pretty, no?

But he and all his kind are fading, fading fast.  So smile and sing!  “‘Tis well an Old Age is out,/ And time to begin a New,” as Dryden said.  In the clearing cultural current that’s flushing out the flotsam and jetsam of the Sexual Revolution both hippie and yuppie, a wholly-other generation’s coming on strong — and there are signs that unlike its materialist predecessor, it’s awake to the freshness and wonder of life, especially innocent life, and compassion for it.  From Aledo, Texas (outside Fort Worth as I learned) comes today this charming and affecting story of strength made perfect in weakness:


Who says there’s never any good news any more?  Hurrah for the students of Aledo High School — and for little Trig Palin and his mother.

[* If you don’t already own it, buy Coulter’s laugh-out-loud funny and endlessly quotable Godless: The Church of Liberalism.]

Gabbling Nuisance.

Homosexual marriage “whether you like it or not” — a wolf of dictatorship in rights-talk clothing:

The now-infamous diktat by Brylcreemed adulterer and San Fran mayor Gabbling Nuisance — that the California electorate’s going to have homosexual “marriage” imposed on us whether we like it or not — is now in rotation in Yes on 8 ads all over California. After just one week the ads have jumped Prop. 8 to a 47%-42% lead among likely voters:


The only door that’s wide open now, Gabbling, is your flatulent orifice, its every effluvium lapped up by your dim-bulb acolytes in San Fran. Your flapping jaw, I mean. Best seal it tightly. Try more Brylcreem – quite viscous, and very fetching with your Sears suit and tie.

Memo to Gabbling Nuisance and B. H. “Bitter Clingers” Obama: When preaching to the choir in San Fran, make sure the TV cameras and microphones are off. Outside the echo chamber enclosed by the Golden Gate and the Berkeley Hills, California reserves to the people the right to legislate. You can’t have our rights, Gabbling – we’re still using them.

For more information and to donate — if you live outside California, please give money to stop homosexual “marriage” here before it comes to your state — here’s the Yes on 8 campaign website:


And finally another Yes on 8 ad, warning that in Massachusetts (where the court diktat imposing homosexual “marriage” wasn’t overturned) parents now have no right to object when public schools teach second graders that gay “marriage” is normal (and they do).  As you can imagine, the ad’s getting lots of extra mileage out of Gabbling’s gaffe — seems his confident strides through the cow pasture haven’t played so well with Californians who (silly old dears!) quaintly imagined it was our call whether there’s a “right” to committed sodogamy in the state constitution:


Matt Damon, voted Most Likely to Be Seen with a Booger Hanging from His Nose in high school, snuffles through some monosyllables about Gov. Palin — interspersed with his Team America scenes! Okay, all together now, in your best adenoidal twang: “Meeyatt Deeaymon!”

Nicely captures the mental masturbatory quality of Hollywood lefties — this somnolent tool would have to fall down a well to have a deep thought.  And even then probably not.

Anyway, the perky, million-watt-smile Gov. Palin drew 60,000 people to a rally in Florida recently, which is thousands more than saw Meeyatt Deeaymon’s last movie, which was… which was… That’s funny (unlike Meeyatt Deeaymon).  I can’t recall.  I’m sure that whatever it was, it must have been good.  For insomnia.  And for the mildly retarded and their minders, out for a morning’s airing from the group home.

With thanks to Trey Parker and Matt Stone for the big assist from Team America: World Police (2004):


Affirmative action = unqualified.

At 30 seconds into clip:

O: “Now Sen. McCain suggests that somehow, ya know, I’m green behind the ears, ’n’ I’s just spoutin’ off, ’n’ he’s somber and responsible…”

McC: “Thank you very much!”

Ipse dixit. Out of the mouths of babes in the woods. Obambi IS green, and wet behind the ears too. The One’s Freudian slip is forever showing in the debates, and he needs to launder it.

“Green behind the ears” eh? There’s no greater menace – and bore – than an educated fool.

Perhaps if Sen. Infanticide spent time listening to rural Americans instead of slandering our “clinging” to the First and Second Amendments, he’d pick up the lingo and not sound like an effete snob in class drag.  Which he is. Somebody crack an egg on the Marxist’s pointy head!

P.S.: You can over-pronounce “PAW-KEE-STUN” like a smeary-spectacled high school debater till you’re blue in the face (not green behind the ears) – the Pakistanis will still despise you for a weakling.

Saddle leather.


(Raunchonchville) Raddled old hooker and rich baritone Madonna Ciccone, her cherry filling rotted sour, is desperately seeking Sarah — and relevance — today by lashing out at Gov. Palin (R-AK). Sources say sprays of street hustler icing to Ciccone’s face and shots of preservatives (and penicillin) have so far failed to keep weevils from burrowing in the pop tart’s crust.

Ciccone, who is 78 but looks older, said: “My witless jabs at Palin show I won’t go gentle into that good night of skank oblivion. I’m gonna flash my stringy, dehydrated crotchparts to bored audiences ’til I drop!” Medical experts say this could be risky given Ciccone’s osteoporotic hipbones, already weakened by lots of rough grabbing from behind by hired Apollos.

Palin responded by winking adorably, saying: “Bless her heart! Leathery old Madonna can’t see the humor in calling her tour ‘Sticky and Sweet’ when the best adjectives would be ‘Stuck Together and Stank.'”