Skip to comments.The Bride Of Clintonstein (Be Afraid, Very Afraid)
Posted on 10/31/2002 3:07:36 PM PST by KLT
Telling a New Yorker he's made a mistake is definitely a job for a volunteer, but as it is the place I was born and raised, I feel an obligation to tell the good folks that live there too a few things about the albatross they've hung around their collective neck.
As much as any state in the Union, New York is populated by overachievers and pragmatists, not susceptible to the spiel of political con artists who show up periodically and try to pound sunshine up their asses. Suddenly they've decided to shoot crap with their state's future. The grim reality of the impending calamity will be brought home to them after The Empire State is renamed The Welfare State, and on the pedestal in New York Harbor the Statue of Liberty is replaced with a Colossus of Hillary, bearing the revised inscription, "Send me your illegal aliens - longing to breed free." Hillary can give New York something it never had before - a financial hernia.
There is a growing conviction in this nation, the only thing worse than being from Arkansas is marrying someone from Arkansas. Consequently, the low level of esteem in which Hillary Clinton is held is located somewhere between a subterranean garage and a paint locker in the main cargo hold of the Titanic. Hillary has a naturally strident inelegance and her emotional fuse is listed in The Guinness Book of Short. It does not aid Bubba's political posture that she gave the first robin of spring "the finger," circled an orphanage in a sound truck announcing, "the Wizard molested Dorothy on the way back to Kansas," and generally exhibiting a personality that seems to have been suspended too long on a wire hanger.
Hillary Clinton has become a magnet for two separate and distinct kinds of hostility - deserved, and - completely justified. (On one occasion the bitch was teasing her hair and it bit her.) A charitable description of her is "Leona Helmsley with PMS." Other people refer to her, even less affectionately, as "The Iron Yenta."
An ardent feminist, HRC ("Her Royal Clintonness") believes a woman's place is not in the kitchen. Anyone who has been a feminist's guest for dinner will be eager to corroborate it. Some members of NOW, (National Organization of Wombats) have declared Hillary Clinton the most intellectual speaker to address them since Wilma Flintstone. She considers herself empowered to speak for all of humanity because she has a university degree. (Educational standards being what they are in Arkansas, you can get a doctorate for helping someone put up a circus tent.)
Hillary feels much reassured by the fact that she is a lawyer. Should an investigation ever prove Vince Foster's met his end by foul play, she stands ready, on behalf of her husband, to file America's first "Rightful Death" suit. The Vince Foster case remains a mystery since Hillary refused to let the FBI dust her boobs for fingerprints. Besides being an attorney, she is also a resourceful businessperson. Not only did she devise a shifty scam for making a hundred grand in cattle futures overnight, but it was her idea to turn the Lincoln bedroom into a garage apartment.
Her most identifying characteristic is her toughness. A former maid reported, Hillary would torment a snapping turtle, then use it to pluck her eyebrows. Hillary has been under a cloud of suspicion ever since she asked the CIA if there is any way to shred fingerprints, but she still manages to stay one subpoena length ahead of the posse. When accused, Hillary has been known to spring to her own defense. At a meeting of a woman's group, she represented herself as a sweet, caring, unassuming sort of person. A SWAT team broke in and charged her with filing a false report.
To prove she has been unfairly pilloried in the press, HRC has produced a note from the people she caused to be fired from the White House Travel Office thanking her for changing her mind about just having them executed. It's one of Hillary's superstitions that it's good luck to deprive someone of his livelihood during any week that has a Friday in it. It was recently revealed, after checking her heart, a prominent cardiologist went on record as saying, "It's not any kind of metal I'm familiar with."
Here follows more of what anyone ever really wanted to know about HRC:
Early in life it was clear Hillary did not inspire affection. Even as a child, she did not have "friends." The family would tell her, "Go out to the schoolyard and play with your accomplices!" Whenever she turned on the television set, Rocky and Bullwinkle would blow out the picture tube from the inside. Santa quit coming down the Rodham chimney after Hillary bit him on the ankle. It was this event that prompted the neighbors to begin calling her "Cujo."
Hillary likes to get her own way, which may explain why her favorite album is, Barbra Streisand Nags Cole Porter.
Hillary says she doesn't take criticism personally, but likes to dial up Matt Drudge in the dead of night, and in an accent heavy with Teutonic menace, taunt, "You have relatives back in Arkansas, Nicht wahr? "
In her official White House gallery portrait she chose to be depicted with Eleanor Roosevelt carrying her piggyback.
Having failed to deliver the nation's health care to Hillary's sinister applications, lock, stock and stethoscope, she insisted Bill turn the national defense over to her. Thus, there was the likelihood of the entire armed forces being obliged to face a firing squad for failing to march in step with her. It's said, she still believes in Bill's military policy of "Don't ask - Don't tell - Don't laughm," but would go a step further by appointing a gay Chief-of-Staff. ("I would have been at the battle, but I didn't have a thing to wear.") It's rumored her top candidate for the post is Richard Simmons. Hillary has already "suggested" to the head of the laboratories at Los Alamos to equip each soldier with an atomic wand. (Just at the moment they are too busy gift-wrapping our nuclear secrets for shipment to China.)
Working in the Clinton White House was not exactly a summer in the country. The main objective was to keep from running into "Swillery." When they knew she was prowling the corridors it's as though the cobalt bomb had been dropped. The building was still standing, but the people had all gone bye-bye. One is wise never to be candid with her. She asked a presidential aide for his honest opinion and she got it. (He's resting now.)
It is an important protocol never to make comments about HRC's "gams" to which she is more than slightly allergic. The official White House photographer was placed on "red alert" never to take full-length photos of her. The Senator has legs that go down to the floor and look like they forgot their way back. Brunswick makes bowling pins that are shapelier.
Contrary to the conventional wisdom, Hillary is not jealous of Bill's sex life. She just wants to get in on it. Whatever Bill and Hillary once saw in each other has been replaced by something they saw through each other. If they say "hello" it is considered a display of mutually misplaced affection. Still, whenever they go out in public, they are all shy glances and Styrofoam smiles - and always walk arm in arm. Spiders don't walk arm in arm as much, and God gave them a lot more arms to do it with.
In those bygone days, the Clinton Administration's spin merchants went into emergency session every twenty minutes to re-surface the First Lady's "image." The Clinton White House maintained a special corner for her called The Tantrum Room, where Hillary could threaten to hold her breath until Bill agreed to send troops somewhere or other. (The Tantrum Room was right across the hall from the Disappearing/Reappearing Billing Records Room.)
And while the subject abides: in the world of serial smoke screens of self-exoneration in which the Clinton Administration operated, a classic is Hillary's mysteriously vanishing and, shall we say, "unvanishing," Rose Law Firm billing records. As no one will own up to putting them on the table in the White House living quarters, I think New Yorkers are entitled to decide for themselves how those fugitive documents got there from the list of choices offered by the White House - They:
[a] turned up
[b] showed up
[c] popped up
[d] cropped up
[h] came about
[I] issued forth
[j] chanced to be
[l] presented themselves
[p] took root
[q] got in a knot
[s] happened along
[u] scraped together
[w] bunched up
[y] fell from the mothership, and
[z] Houdini strikes again!
Those are about as forthright a set of answers as anybody will ever get from a Clinton. Shakespeare said "There is something rotten in the state of Denmark." It is now pronounced "Rodham" in the State of New York.
Norman Liebmann is a former television writer [Johnny Carson; Dean Martin; wrote and produced "Chico and the Man" and created the characters for "The Munsters" (who are all named after his relatives)] and a brilliantly insightful columnist/humorist and contributor to BSNN. Please visit his Web site, Firehat, a treasure trove of Clinton- and media-bashing. E-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Now, now....you don't want the Kwisatz Haderach as President. It would take all my time away from creating incendiary pictures. ;-)
Oh, I'm sorry, did I say that out loud?!
BTW...I was talkin' to the HildaBeast, TGR, not you.
ROFLMAO...that you did, my FRiend...and didn't you wear the ClintonStein costume a time or two? We miss you on the East Coast...MUD
BTW...hey 'pod, you'd look mighty fetchin' in a Bride of ClintonStein getup...LOL!!
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