Sarah Palin for President

People keep looking for the next Reagan. She's already here.

People keep looking for the next Reagan. She’s already here.

I’m not waiting. The future of America is no longer about winning the next election. I no longer care about electoral math. I’m back with my punks. It’s about leaving a record, for the ones who will come later. (Lake, help me with a chapter and verse citation.)

Five months into the second Obama term, I am officially and unequivocally endorsing Sarah Palin for the presidency of the United States. It’s not a protest vote. She’s ready. None of her leading opponents has any experience at all, unless you count Joe Biden’s fake legal and political career or Hillary’s oddly transgender cuckold career as First Lady and the stooge of Benghazi — always, always screwed with never a clue about what was really going on. Meaning what? She’s the piano-legged dud we thought she was way back when Bill denied an affair with Gennifer Flowers. She got smarter somehow along the way? uh, no. Still an over-educated fool, perpetually the last to know anything.

Palin is different. Where Hillary is studied, coached, and dull, Palin is lightning. She doesn’t lecture her audiences; she electrifies them. Her ongoing political commentary has always been witty, to the point, and true. When attacked, she strikes back as venomously as a rattlesnake. Her political endorsements and followups have been more effective than those of multi-term U.S. senators. What nobody wants to acknowledge. She’s a natural.

So it’s time for her to leave the Republican Party and make her own party. Even if she loses, the results are the best possible hope for the future of this doomed country. Don’t forget that Goldwater’s crushing defeat paved the way for Reagan’s landslide. At some point, women — the tsunami of American traitors to the whole concept of individual liberty framed by the constitution — will eventually be disgusted by the totalitarian compulsion to tar an honorable mother of five as a whore, an idiot, a tool of special interests, and the inbred halfwit cow who calved a retard in proof of the ideological inferiority of all conservative values.

Bring it on. I didn’t think anyone could withstand such constant, unrelenting, sexually sadistic abuse. But I was wrong. Palin can. She’s the ultimate feminist nightmare. The woman who’s so self-confident she just doesn’t care how hard you try to demean her. To her it’s just proof of how limp your dick is (or how dried up your snatch). She takes the punishment and keeps taking it until it’s time to make a deadly point. Reminds me of Ali in Zaire, leaning against the ropes for round after round after round while the supposedly smartest pundits keep predicting his imminent doom, until, oops, he wins by a knockout.

Wake up, lefty Viagrans! She does not care. Talk about hate-fucking (yeah, you Maher)? Palin could hate-fuck you to death and show up pristinely beautiful at the next Tea Party rally in the hometown of your alma mater. Right. She’d kill the crowd even in Ithaca, New York.

Here’s the truth. She wouldn’t attract so much horrifyingly sexist abuse if she weren’t so dangerous a leader of the conservative opposition. Why she needs to be the leader of the next generation of Americans who don’t wish to be victims. Nobody else has that credential.

Remember. I'm the first to say she's the one we need. It will take everyone else much much much longer.

Remember. I’m the first to say she’s the one we need. It will take everyone else much much longer.

Hey. Give it a shot. Tell me who else can fight for us like Boudica. Nobody but this extraordinary woman.

P.S. Lake came through. As usual. Here’s a YouTube link to the chapter he quoted. If I had more belief in WordPress, I’d make the video show up here. Can’t do it. If you can, tell me how.

Happy Independence Day, everyone. Not trying to be ironic. It just sounds like that.

The reading:

4 thoughts on “Sarah Palin for President

  1. They, Chapter 9, Verse 9:

    But the whole book, the whole testament, it needs a rereading. That’s how I’m going to spend the 4th, reading the Declaration and the Punk Testament.

    1 But we are punks,
    2 And we don’t care what they say,
    3 At all,
    4 Because they are disgusting to us,
    5 And it doesn’t really matter if they still know how to read or not,
    6 Or if they can understand writing that doesn’t have cute scenes in it, or kcharming losers dancing on the brink of doom,
    7 Because we’re not interested in being liked,
    8 Whether they like it or not.
    9 We’re interested in leaving a record,
    10 For the ones who will come later,
    11 The ones who will have to start over,
    12 When they have finished rotting everything to pieces.

  2. I’ll embed it when I get back behind a computer! But we’re enjoying a brief but hot day outside for a change.

    Happy Independence Day, we’d best remember so we’re ready for the next one.

  3. Maximum fear. Whether you relish the idea of dying or not, the walls are closing in. You know it if you think about it critically. It is inevitable and you have foreseen it.

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