Mary Jo Kopechne’s watery grave: requiescat in pace.

Teddy's Car

(Martha’s Libtard, MA) Speaker of the House Nates Pilosae (D-Fistula) announced today she would rally liberal support for the flagging ObamaCare bill by renaming it the Senator Kennedy Really Enjoyed Women Undressing, or SKREWU, Act. Asked if this means any substantive changes, Pilosae said: “Well, we’re planning to make the reproductive health care stuff a stand-alone bill. The mother’s, I mean. To be fair, cranial puncture and suction doesn’t necessarily meet everybody’s definition of health care for babies.”

As some in the audience shifted in their seats, Pilosae continued: “The stand-alone bill, which we’re calling the Ted Kennedy Inconvenient Duty to Rescue Act, dispenses with all that partial-birth stuff our base is so keen on. Instead, unwanted children will be allowed to be born but then plied with booze and drugs, strapped into an Oldsmobile, and driven off a bridge into a pond. Then left to swim for themselves. All taxpayer-funded, of course. We think Sen. Kennedy would be proud.”

— Sue Denham

In a more literal vein, via ABC News:

Americans were horrified when they learned that rescue workers found [Mary Jo Kopechne’s] body in the well of the back seat with her head held up, perhaps indicating that she had been alive for some time breathing in an air pocket.

No comment.

It may be that Edward Kennedy will find mercy in the other world, a good defense before the dread judgment seat of Christ, in the ancient formulation. Maybe not. It’s not for us still on this side of the veil to say. But what we can say, is that pretty young staffers, unborn children, our republican forms of government, and whiskey distilleries everywhere will sleep better tonight.  Or as my tart-tongued friend Peona de Fleur said yesterday: “My mother always said to say something good about the dead.  Ted Kennedy’s dead.  Good.”

fat-ted-kennedy

A bit jaggy but genuine I believe: a rare Hibernian walrus, Ebriosus cacatus, disoriented with drink and drugs, beaches itself on Martha’s Vineyard.

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This is just delicious — Nates Pilosae, shilling for her Generational Theft Act, plows past a pig-ignorant mistake like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Which it wouldn’t, since all the old battleaxe’s moisture drained away in her ten facelifts. In fact, Pilosae has a knot of hide at the back of her head like a schoolgirl’s scrunchy, so the devil can hang her on a hatrack when he’s done using her.

“I don’t think we can go fast enough, uh, just uh, to, to stop that.” Spit it out, dear. And somebody put that mangled metaphor out of its misery.

Obomber’s installation in the White House: the inmates are running the asylum.

the_punishment_inflicted_on_lemuel_gulliver

(Washington, DC)  Mental midgets and moral dwarves from across the country, taking a break from masturbating, skimming the New York Times and grading stacks of undergraduate lit papers, have swarmed the nation’s capital to help thrust Sen. Barack Hussein Obomber (Weatherman-IL) into the nation’s highest office.  “Obomber, bastard child of a traveling Kenyan national and his America-hating mistress — as she recalled, anyhow — shows that anybody, just anybody, can become president of the United States,” exulted Nates Pilosae (D-CA), Speaker of the House and cracked leather good.  “Forty years’ assaults on the culture have finally paid off: the American sheeple are such docile self-haters they’ve installed in the White House an imp who loathes their most basic values — voluntarily!

Pilosae smiled, or perhaps it’s just that her facelift is so tight that sitting down causes her mouth to open.  “So what if Dhimmicrats have to sneak in Marxism by the back door, if we beat you in the end?  Obomber and his cabal of wine-quaffing surrender monkeys are just the purgative the American system needs to finally dislodge patriotism and piety for good.”  Waving her liberal-arts Lilliputians forward with one liver-spot talon, Pilosae wheeled toward the heartland and, grinning, barked: “America, assume the position!”