Country singer Sara Evans alleges in divorce papers that her husband committed adultery, was verbally and emotionally abusive, drank excessively and frequently watched pornography in their home.
....
Schelske, 43 and currently unemployed, ran for Congress as a Republican from Oregon's 5th District in 2002. He is a native of Salem, Ore.
He could not be reached for comment because there was no answer at a phone number for him Oregon.
In the filing in state court in suburban Franklin, where the couple has a home, Evans alleges that Schelske watched pornography on the couples' computers and has at least 100 nude photographs of himself in a state of arousal.
She also alleges that several photographs show Schelske having sex with other women.
According to the court documents, the oldest of the couple's children [a 7-year-old -- ed.] confronted Schelske when he was watching pornographic material on the television in their home.
Sounds pretty wankerific. This must be the "family values" I keep hearing about, or as TBogg points out, fertile subject matter for Evans' next magnum opus.
And funnily enough, it seems that Craiggers still has his campaign website going, replete with phantastic photos, with which you can play our favorite drinking game, Spot the Doofus.
For this photo, you have to chug:
The guy in the middle sorta brings down the intemellectual property value, though we probably weren't on Park Avenue in the first place.
Then there's this:
I just think this is an excellent, well-taken photograph, and I have no fucking clue who Tom Sundquist is. Larry Snarfquist. Bill Smithers. Whoever that guy on the right is. Those are nice.
Damn.
Anyway, more seriously (but seriously, that's some nice sweater fruit there, mes amis), just perusing the photo pages might lead one to believe that this is a guy who traded rather heavily on his wife's apparent popularity, for a campaign from four years ago.
I dunno, pal, maybe after you're done jerking off to pictures of yourself fucking other broads, you might want to either update or take down your campaign website, maybe saving that sweater-fruit picture. In the meantime, noting how the current crop of candidates has taken pains to dissociate themselves from even old photos with the Chimpster, it's nice to see that at least one chump is just too preoccupied to worry about such niceties. And sorry, Sara, but maybe this sort of thing is what happens when you roll with shitbirds like Tom DeLay.
3 comments:
Heh, heh. I love me some dirty pillows, too. Many a man's career has been made on his wifey's... erm... endowment. This chick reminds me of another GOPer who thinks, like Mae West, honey, if you got'em, you flaunt'em.
But you'd think that, with those tits, she could have found herself a man who's less of a creepy dork.
--M.
Yet Craig What's-his-face is not the worst to come out of Oregon these days. It's people who support this kind of shit. I wonder if they've been using Hermann Goering's ghost as a strategy consultant. 'Cause their justifications pretty much shound like him to me.
--M.
Yeah, he looks like a mildly retarded Tim Robbins or something. Not worthy of grade-A funbags, that's for sure. I just thought it was funny that whatever Schelske's sock-puppet platform was back in aught-two, the truth is told by the photo trail. He's flogging her rack and her fame like George Allen (or George Bush, for that matter) riding Daddy's putative legacy.
Interesting LA Times article, and the next step in a rather scary trend. Of course, "activist judiciary" has become a cheap trope for "upholds laws we don't like". No matter how much data comes out showing that Scalia and Thomas are far and away the worst about overturning established laws and precedents, you just can't go wrong with base populism, appealing to the self-image of rugged individualism these states (many of which strangely take in more federal tax dollars than they pay out, unlike us fruits n' nuts in Californy).
In the end, the whole Bush reign of error may simply prove Ralph Nader, of all people, correct -- maybe we all have to get a taste of what happens when you give the dumbest people the keys to the store before we take our blessings a little more seriously. Or not. This nation is still more P.T. Barnum than Horatio Alger, despite what we delude ourselves into thinking.
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