Hillary is still dead...
March 5, 2008 03:58 PM
...the indominitable Mrs. P. gives us the whys and hows:
On a much, much happier note, Hillary Rotten Clinton died. Though I told you she had died in January. Admit it now, most of you doubted me then, some of you even questioned my sanctity and others of you went so far to call me at home to question my sanity. And I know most of you are now saying "Mrs. P, she's not dead! She's alive! More than than, she's standing right behind you with a big butcher's knife!" No, she's not. She may technically be alive. Alive in the same technical sense Castro is, which is a Hell of a life, I might add, now that his power has been transferred. Hillary Clinton is as dead as Castro is, politically. For her to win the White House she needs her husband to call up his *friends* and get them to get the dead, as well as abandoned parking lots, stray cats, dogs and parakeets to cast their votes for her. So, this primary season has established beyond a reasonable doubt that the world's smartest woman and leading feminist, Hillary Clinton only rose as high as she did by marrying the sleaze she did. (Don't you just adore the First Amendment?) More than that, Hillary, to get the chance to run for president (and promptly fall flat on her face) had to sacrifice her feminist principals, relinquish her dignity as a woman, and take all of her husband's abuse publicly for more than 2 decades while saying she loved him. What makes her death (or transfer of power) all so much more delicious is that she is being beaten by a carbon-copy airhead candidate of her husband, complete with the Ivy League-educated angry wife. So we cheer the dead woman walking, Hillary Rotten Clinton, on as she will now, once again for the 2,345.725 time, go back on her principals and try to seat the Michigan and Florida delegates so that she can finally take the sack full of wet sand to the back of Obama's head at the Democratic National Convention. As the ladies at NOW are so fond of screeching "You go girl!"
I bolded the part I like the best. Perhaps when Mrs. Clinton is literally dead, we can get the schoolchildren to send in their nickels to build a memorial, upon which we can put Mrs. P's words?
An ordinary headstone's not going to do.