I admit to being perplexed back in November that estimable Minnesotans chose to send Teh Hottness that is Michele Bachmann, aka Mary Tyler Moron, back to Warshington. But more and more, it's beginning to make sense. They got her out of their local meetings and she's pure comedy gold. It's a win-win (though it still doesn't explain Norm Coleman).
Don't ever stop speed-skimming those history books and acting like you learned something, sweet cheeks. I'm waiting for the Germans to ruffle her feathers so's she can go off on them for Pearl Harbor. Fortunately I likes 'em good and stupid; I'm pretty sure a prowling cougar like Bachmann could be lured into the old darkened-porthole-window blogger van with a shiny nickel and a pixellated photo of Rush Limbaugh's stretch marks.
I'm going to make a mid-year resolution to work "Hoot-Smalley" into everyday conversations at least as much as I use "cup my balls, say my name".
4 comments:
Hey, step off, homie -- you're a married man. I'll take care of this one! Something about that feral insane gleam in the eyes makes her enticing.
Wasn't she the one who was playing footsie with some young reporter, shortly after she latched onto Dubya at the SOTU that year and wouldn't let go?
Wasn't that a Bob Seger hit? I distinctly remember "cup the balls, turn the page."
TVS:
Yeah, she kinda scratches that crazy-chick itch most guys have (until the sex is over and she's still there). I recall a story about Katherine Harris playing footsie with a college reporter during her (ahem) Senate campaign. Bachmann does seem like a bird of that feather, so it wouldn't surprise me. And she is the one that tried to mack on Fredo at the SOTU, which does make one wonder what sort of galoot she's married to.
LACP:
Awesome. I'll never hear that song the same way (or hopefully, at all)again. Right up there with "there's a bathroom on the right" or "wrapped up like a douche".
Ah, this must be what I was thinking of.
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