This will be the one debate that I will not miss and you can bet that his comedy will not need a laugh-track. Speaking of laughs.
Question: What’s the difference between Donald Trump and the Pope?
Answer: You only have to kiss the Pope’s ring.
The Donald is once again jonesing for relevance and ratings. Undecided on his next course of action, he’s torn between the roles of Kingmaker and King. If only there was some way to do both. Now, as the “moderator” of the upcoming debate on December 27th, The Donald has found the answer! He can do both!
As if the GOP campaign had not already degenerated into a gladiatorial spectacle, it’s about to take a turn for the more absurd as The Donald sets the stage for a verbal brawl with the 7 Intellectual Dwarfs. In this race for the lowest of common denominators, we’re headed for the Marianas Trench. Follow along below the curious life-form of the deep for more on each of our contenders.
Michele “Squeeky” Bachmann, doubling down on her hateful pronouncements, has declared that yes, gay people can marry! Hallelujah!! Oh… wait. They have to marry someone of the opposite sex! Well, that kind of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? I mean, who in the world would enter into a marriage like that, where one (or both) of the participants was clearly not committed to that sort of a heterosexual “lifestyle”? You’d have to be batshit cra… Oh. Sorry. Well, at least she can rely on her sham spouse for fashion advice. Judging from her recent debate outfits, it looks like he’s been playing a cruel joke on little Squeeky. No worries, though. She puts on a good face (a colorful one, anyway) and soldiers on.
Newt “Meanie” Gingrich has dashed the Christmas hopes of many a child with his Dickensian vision of child labor as a pathway to continued poverty. No gifts for you kids! In fact, Christmas morning, since school’s out, it’s the perfect time to get down on your bloody and bruised hands and knees and give those school floors the thorough scrubbing they deserve. Then back home to your miserable hovel for some macaroni and cheese for the big day. Meanwhile in a mansion far, far away, Stepfordian wife-du-jour “Blingy” will try in vain to force her Botoxed face into some semblance of a smile as she unwraps Newt’s holiday appeasement gift from Tiffany’s.
Jon “Smarty” Huntsman has wisely declared that he would not kiss the ring – or any other portion – of the Donald. Smarty knows that there’s nothing to be gained by bringing a supercomputer to a knife fight, so he’s diligently working the Granite State retail politics circuit in hopes of a strong showing with the denizens of Dixville Notch.
Ron “Grampy” Paul, the voice of reason in this field of policy lightweights, continues ambling along with a respectable showing, particularly among young people (with the promise of legalized marijuana) and aging adherants of Ayn “Icy” Rand, who see in this quirky septuagenarian the chance to get all those young people off their lawns, once and for all.
Rick “Goofy” Perry continues reminding late-night comedy audiences of his aw-shucks inability to remember more than two things at a time. His latest stream-of-unconsciousness advertisement equates gays in the military with the demise of school prayer. In his spare time, he’s studying his own team’s polling, which shows him with a “nice path” in Iowa. Turn the paper around, Rick. His latest gaffe: referring to the New Hampshire primaries as “caucuses”. Um, Rick… it’s the “Granite State”, not the “take it for Granite State”.
Mitt “Floppy” Romney, no longer clinging to his low-profile “prevent defense” strategy of remaining aloof as other contenders fall by the wayside, has kicked his campaign into second gear. He has even deigned to meet with (gasp) Fox News and other lower life forms to endure insipid interviews, where he has allowed the “real Mitt” to emerge: an irascible, petulant man, seething at the growing probability that he is not actually the “inevitable” nominee despite nearly a decade of campaigning.
Rick “Creepy” Santorum`remains concerned, very concerned, that America’s moral values are falling like glitter off a cheap Christmas card. He, and he alone, stands between American families and the horrific prospect of people sharing the holidays in some unnatural way with their – gasp! – loved ones. He’ll continue his campaign until conditions improve or he runs out of cash. Can you guess which will happen first?? Good for you!
In Memoriam: Herman “Gropey” Cain has dropped off the radar and through the trap door of oblivion, recovering somewhere from his pivotal meeting with Gloria, and probably in hiding away at a rehab clinic for people addicted to inappropriate workplace behavior. With the onset of winter, he’ll at least be able to keep warm burning the now-useless copies of his epic autobiography.
Originally posted to cassandracarolina on Thu Dec 08,
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