Feckless Samantha Bee, Clueless Obama, & Pantsless Bill Clinton (posted 6/7/18)

So it’s June, and you know what that means: another month of leftists behaving badly.

Let’s start with Samantha Bee.  And before you say, “WHO?”  I’ll point out that she has an alleged comedy show watched by many of her relatives and a few poor souls being held against their will by sadistic kidnappers who have duct-taped them to chairs with those crazy Clockwork Orange eyelid-clamped-open-things on.  She’s currently in a neck-and-neck competition with Noah Trevor, Jimmy ”Waaah!” Kimmel and Stephen Colbert – or as you may know them, “Who?” and “He was a little funny when he hung out with Carolla,” and, “Ugh.” – for the “Least Funny and Lowest Rated Human on TV.”

A week ago, Ivanka Trump put out a picture of her and her adorable two-year-old son.  So naturally the leftist twittersphere went into a spittle-flecked rant about it.

I know what you’re thinking.  She must have given the sweet pic some sort of inflammatory caption, right?  Like, “Don’t forget, his grandpa is going to be president for 6 more years!” or “Look how beautiful and white he is!”  or “So glad I didn’t abort this little guy! #no-more-infanticide.”

But no.  The pic was sweet, and the caption was sweet:  “My [heart] #Sunday morning.”
And the lefties went NUTS!  A writer named Casey Quackenbush (man, I bet middle school was a picnic with that last name) at Time magazine – which I was shocked to learn still exists – put it this way:  “Ivanka Trump faces a storm of online criticism for tweeting a photo of her embracing her son, with critics denouncing her as “tone deaf” amid emerging reports of immigrant families being separated at the U.S.-Mexico border.”

I am not making that up.  A “storm of online criticism.”  “Tone deaf.”  For a picture with her son.

And it wasn’t just Senora Quackenbush.  (snort) I think Andy Ostroy said it best, by which I mean “stupidest,” (and no, I’ve never heard of him either):  “As screaming children are being ripped from their horrified parents at the border because of daddy’s unconscionable cruelty…@IvankaTrump demonstrates a staggering measure of tone-deafness & insensitivity in her “Sunday morning” snugglefest with her kid.”

Look up “drama queen” in the dictionary, and you’ll find a picture of Nancy Pelosi, beside the quote, “No, this IS the end of the world.  It’s Armageddon!”  But then, in the small print, you’ll find, “See also: Andy Ostroy.”

Anyway, when Samantha Bee and her crack team of writers saw that beatific photo of maternal love, they knew that had to marshal all of their talent to expose this outrage.  So they locked themselves in a room for a week, to focus their attention and their rapier wit on the First Daughter.

You know that old saying that if you put 1000 monkeys in a room with 1000 typewriters for 1000 years, they’d produce the works of Shakespeare?  Well, this was just like that.  Except that when they came out of the room, they were babbling incoherently, and covered in feces, and all they’d come up with was a list of vulgar words for the female anatomy.

So Slanderin’ Sammie went on the air, and called Ivanka a “feckless c-word” and suggested that she use her body to tempt her father into incest in an effort to change his mind about applying US law to people who break it and thereby endanger their own children.

Sidebar: Take it from a guy who is almost too modest to mention that the internet has agreed that he is a #hilariousgenius – that’s not comedy.  Anybody can drop an “F” bomb or a c-word.  I do that every time I drive across town, or accidentally come across a Samantha Bee monologue, respectively.  And I don’t even have a team of writers to help me!

Comedy takes a little more thought than that.  I mean, you try coming up with a humorous reference to Liz Warren for a dozen columns in a row.  It’s not as easy as I make it look.

Sure, I could just call her a feckless squaw, and pour myself a scotch and call it a column.  But no.  I have higher standards than that.  So I pour that scotch first, and I tilt back in my chair, and try to think of the whitest people I know.

I think of that actor from the movie “Powder,” but that’s too obscure.  I remember a disturbing Martin Short albino character from some long-ago tv sketches, but that’s even more obscure.  Scotch, scotch, scotch… Boom.

Edgar Winter and Tilda Swinton had a baby (look them both up).  And that baby was still three shades darker than faux Indian Liz Warren.  #wemustneverstopmockingher

Okay, maybe not my best work.  But still better than Sam Bee and her over-paid menagerie of hacks could come up with.

Where was I?  Oh yeah.  Incest-implying, c-word deploying Samantha Bee is obviously a feminist heroine.   Which is why she was honored by the Television Academy (I’m not making that group up, even though no one’s ever heard of them before) with an award for “Programming that Advances Social Change.”  If by “advancing social change” you mean “making society much, much worse.”

Meanwhile, crazy loon Roseanne said something equally offensive about truly terrible leftist hack Valerie Jarrett, and now she’ll never be on network tv again.   The end, and nothing to see here, and move along.


The two most recent Democrat presidents were also in the news this week, with a couple of schadenfreude-tastic interviews that I’ve been savoring and re-reading.  First up was Barack “Sophocles” Obama, whose philosophical musings in the days after Trump’s election were excerpted from Ben Rhodes’ forthcoming dumpster fire of a book.

In the days after the shocking electoral reversal, Obama had a dark night of the soul, during which he carried out a caustically critical self-inventory.  According to Rhodes, Obama mused, “Maybe we were wrong.  Maybe I shouldn’t have had such faith in my own god-like ability, and such disdain for everyone who disagreed with me.  I mean, did I really say that my election would stop the oceans from rising, and begin the healing of the world?  What was I thinking?  I’ve become a character out of a Greek tragedy, whose hubris finally called down an epic punishment from the gods. I’ve got to repent, and change my ways, and spend the rest of my days trying to undo some of the damage my obviously flawed worldview has caused to the greatest nation on earth!”

HA!  Of course I kid.  What Obama really said was this:  “Maybe we were wrong.  Maybe we pushed too far.  Maybe people just want to fall back into their tribe…. Sometimes I wonder whether I was ten or 20 years too early.”

Translation: “I am so amazingly wonderful.  It’s too bad that Americans are such primitive, tribal ignoramuses that they cannot appreciate the wonderfulness of me.  Maybe in a few decades, they will have caught up to my greatness, and regret electing a cartoon character who is erasing all of my glorious achievements.  But probably not.  Because they suck.”


But even more fun was a series of interviews that Bill “Handsy McGroperton™” Clinton found himself entangled in.  He recently pretended to co-write a novel with an author who has lately made a career of getting other writers to write novels that he can pretend to have co-written, and then they went on usually friendly NBC to do an interview promoting that book.

And things went well, for a while.  As long as the interview stuck with questions along the lines of, “Why did you decide to pretend to write this book,” and, “What do you think of your co-author?”  Bill was his old affable, self-deprecating, superficially charming self.

But then things went off the rails.  The interviewer actually started asked some tough questions – after only 20 years, I was as shocked as Bill was! — such as did Bill ever apologize to Monica Lewinsky, and in these days of #MeToo does he see things differently?  And the mask dropped, and Bill revealed his true nature.  He became visibly angry, and pointed his finger, and tried out one lame defense after another:

He denies what everyone knows happened, and what he has admitted in the past:  “I don’t think it would be different today… because people would be using the facts, instead of the imagined facts.”  (i.e. “I did not have sex with that woman.”)

He denies that he was wrong:  “No, I think I did the right thing.  I defended the constitution.”  (Question for any constitutional scholars in the CO nation:  which amendment is it again that protects our God-given right to cavort in the Oval office with gullible girls our daughter’s age?  I think it’s right around the part where we don’t have to quarter British soldiers in the mother-in-law suite anymore, but I couldn’t find it in a quick search.)

He deflects to make his horniness a problem for Trump: “[People are accusing me] partly because they’re frustrated that they’ve got all these serious allegations against the current occupant of the oval office, and his voters don’t seem to care, so you don’t ever talk about that.”

I know.  Re-reading that makes it no clearer.  First, is Bill Clinton seriously claiming that no one ever talks about allegations of sexual misconduct against Donald Trump?!  After Billy Bush was suddenly the most famous Bush in the fall of 2016?  After we’ve spent more than a year on an investigation that originated with Democrats paying a foreign spy to come up with fictional stories of Trump throwing bundles of  cash at troupes of acrobatic Russian hookers to get them to urinate their way through the presidential suite at the Moscow Hilton?

And yes, Bill is self-righteously pontificating on how immoral it was for Trump to have a consensual one-night stand with an adult woman who makes her living having sex with strangers for money.  “Serious allegations” indeed!  Why, do you remember when Trump exposed himself to Kathleen Willey, and Paula Jones, and dozens of others?!  If Harvey Weinstein is awaiting trial, and Bill Cosby is awaiting sentencing, how is it that Donald Trump could have raped Juanita Broaddrick, and has never had to answer for that!  I mean—

Oh, wait.

Bill also played the victim, whining that he left office $16 million dollars in debt.

He even trotted out the faux-feminist version of “some of my best friends are black,” saying how many women he has hired and appointed over the years:  “I had a sexual harassment policy when I was a governor in the 80s.” (Yes, but does, “I am ALL FOR IT!” technically count as a “sexual harassment policy?”) “I had two women chiefs of staff when I was governor.”  (I guess it depends on what the meaning of “had” is, right Bill?) “Women were over-represented in the attorney general’s office in the 70s.”  (And some of them weren’t even C-cups!  I mean, come on!  Give the guy some credit.)  “I’ve had nothing but women leaders in my office since I left.”  (Mr. President, you’re not helping yourself.  Please stop talking.)

Seriously, if you haven’t watched that interview, you must.  Because there are few things more satisfying than watching a self-righteous, hypocritical old reprobate starting to reap what he has spent decades sowing.

One thought on “Feckless Samantha Bee, Clueless Obama, & Pantsless Bill Clinton (posted 6/7/18)”

  1. So, basically, Obama was the Tucker of our time.
    Built for speed, comfort and sleekness but after a short time everybody realized it was an overpriced vehicle with no real purpose except to get from one place to the other just like the cheaper, not as sleek and just as fast other vehicles.


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