Not to toot my own horn or anything, Petunia, but I knew you were icky a long time ago. Way back when your husband was getting his knob polished in the Oval Office–why did he need to drop his worm in another pond, I asked myself? And then you just stood by him, with no self-respect at all, and showed your daughter, and, really, all our children, that there is no consequence for bad behavior; you stood by your man out of sheer unbridled ambition. Or possibly you loved him, I don’t know, but you could have left, although that would have broken up the family; the point is either way you didn’t care about your very own child; every single thing you could have done was wrong, and you know what? At the very least that shows poor judgment, to get into a predicament like that. Still, I didn’t write you off then.
But shoot, honey. What about all those people you killed? Honestly, I can live with that, and if they’re friends of yours they probably had it coming. It’s just that smirk that rankles, that sense of entitlement, that “I can murder my best friend but you can’t” sort of thing. That’s off-putting, sugar.
And you’ve been so slippery on gay rights. We’re supposed to believe your thoughts on the subject “evolved?” Get real. Everyone else in the country was completely on board with gay marriage twenty years ago. A person should be able to take everything she believes at age fifteen right to the grave without changing a thing, if she’s an honest person.
So about those emails. Sure, the deleted ones weren’t important. We believe you, honey. You were just setting up Bunko Night with Angela Merkel, and getting that cookie recipe from the CEO of Goldman-Sachs. But don’t tell us you can’t prove it. We all know where they are. They’re right there in the itty bitty trash can at the corner of your screen. I’m giving you a pass on this one because you’re, you know, old.
But how are we supposed to feel about the super secret three-way Asian trade deal you negotiated? Yeah, we read all about that on Facebook, and on a lefty’s page, too. Finland gets to ship polar bear scrotums to China, China sends supple Asian boys to the Kremlin for the Putin Games, and Finland gets a new, metered oil pipeline from the Arctic Sea across Russia and Mongolia and emptying directly into the Sea of Japan–all in exchange for you being guaranteed three speeches a year to the Heikkinen-Smirnov-Wong Benevolent Association at five mil a whack. Thought we wouldn’t find out about that, huh?
So you tried to divert our attention. You promised to build a wall between the financial sector and the banking sector and make the Koch brothers pay for it, but, you know? We got the Kochs on the phone and they said they didn’t think they would, so what’s the plan? Face it, Puddin’. You’re blowing smoke.
Fighting for our children, my fanny. We keep hearing how much you love children, but what people need to realize is you love them breaded and fried, and when you talk about saving children, you’re talking about in Tupperware. And between us gals, I’ve been fine with that all along; there’s a case to be made that we have too many people in the world, and the most pragmatic and efficient way of approaching the problem is to eat them when they’re still small and tender, but darling? Your cleaning lady told Breitbart News last week that you leave the refrigerator door open for minutes at a time while you’re checking out the leftovers, and I’m sorry, call me an energy nazi, but that is totally it. That’s where I draw the line.
Good God, it took me a moment. I thought, what? Not Murr! Never Murr!
I have a relative that now has video of her youngest, a darling child that has been trained in all manner anti-Hillary/pro-Trump. A ten-minute coached performance of hate and intolerance. Think "Hitler Youth" without the groovy uniforms… The kid will be an unbearable jerk before 2nd grade.
Holy cow. A video yet. Gadzooks.
I'm guessing you don't like the girl so much, amirite?
I do like her! Not enough hyperbole in this one?
Well, I have often thought of emigrating back to Europe and leave the mess for the natives. I know that would be cruel, but my brain is screaming at me to get off the Titanic.
I wonder who'd take us…
Well, this Former Convict Colony is practically the 51st star on your flag so I'm guessing they'd hold open the door for you.Of course, you'd have go back to school and learn to spell and the price of what we call petrol would scare the bejeezlehoop out of you…
not to mention the price of our electricity…
I just learned how to spell bejeezlehoop. I'm in.
Well, at least you draw the line at important stuff. I mean those liberals are falling over themselves about the other candidate getting access to nuclear weapons…which he may or may not use.
That refrigerator door is a big deal for me. And like all Americans, I believe everything I hear.
It's Grimm, eh? And not even pantomime season yet.
I'm oddly hopeful sometimes. I'm hoping for a Senate conversion.
There ARE too many people in the world, and much as your zucchini comparison (eat 'em while they're young and tender) is compelling, I believe we won't really have to worry about it if t'other guy gets in and gets those nuclear codes in his hot little hand …
Well that's ONE way. Let's not find out, okay? I'm worried enough he's getting briefed.
Hyperbole. Hyperbole. Whew!
Was there any doubt? Jeez, I hate to think there was.
Actually, there was. I had to read it again, plus the comments. But then, I'm old too. Just like Hillary.
Only people who know your political leanings will read that as joking. It actually disturbed me.
I'm getting that. I need to be more careful! These are perilous times. Nothing is as it seems, and we can't take anything for granted.
Good one, actually damn near too good. Interesting how many fewer, up to now, how many fewer comments you have. Takes a bit to think things out, analyze, etc.
Good one, Ms. Murr……
Thank you for knowing how to take this darlin'.
What about the pantsuits? Huh? You didn't say anything about the pantsuits. Surely they're made in Bangladesh…
I did see something about Bill coming on stage in a fetching pantsuit. That was fun.
We had a saying in my family, when something was totally obvious, we'd say it was "subtle," and we'd pronounce the silent "b." This was subtle, no b. I read it with wide eyes until practically the end. And actually said, "Now hold on a minute…" in the first paragraph. Got me, you did.
Aaagghh! I didn't want to "get" you! I think this is why there are agents and editors, to let you know that what you intended was not necessarily what came across. The perils of being in your own mind! I think this will lead to a more thoughtful piece down the line.
And if you "got" someone who knows you as well as Julie, think about those of us who know you only through your blog. I've never written a negative comment on anyone's blog. Never. And I won't start now…
Yep, I really missed on this one.
Geez you almost got me there….I was thinking, what!?? Really?!! Misogyny from Murr?!
I tend to lurk but I wanted to let you know that you done good. I wonder how many people sort of cruised right past the title without giving it its due respect. Brilliant piece, Murr.
Unfortunately, much of what I read is a lot like this.
Which is why I've made the conscious decision to tune it all out. I sleep better.
Still laughing my ass off. And I need my ass.
I need mine as a counterweight.
Oh, so funny. But you left out the Bernie secret make out session before the convention, still wondering how I get my contributions back from him.
Now I can't unsee that.
I rarely feel adequate to comment here because I am in awe of your writing and splendid thought processes, not to mention the usual witty comments. However, today I put myself forward to tell you…this one threw me…until the final paragraph. In retrospect…polar bear scrotums should have been the tip off. Brilliant piece of writing!
I fear I didn't ramp it up fast enough–I am sure I lost a few good readers.
I think the correct term is "polar bear scrota".
Do you, now!
Ah the pic of the witch made me think of why fairytales were ever written and read to kids. Od course they were the hyperbole of their era.
Fairy tales were pretty creepy, most of them. No trigger warnings AT ALL.
My first visit here, I must say, hilarious!
Come back soon!
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