The blogosphere is jumpin' today with narratives about how Bombin' Johnnie's campaign was taking on water faster than the Forrestal when he tried to sink her.
The array of McCaint mis-steps, gaffes, blunders, mis-statements, reversals, and outright lies would have sunk a Democrat, without a trace. Add to that, the revelations in the LATimes that when McCaint divorced his first wife, Carol, the mother of his children, who kept the home fires burning the whole time of his imprisonment, his inappropriate behavior--he had been boffing Cindy quite publically for months, and already had a new marriage license when his divorce came through--Dem's Sum Ballews-- proved too much for even the scenescent Samurai of Palos Verdes, and his 'bride,' the former blow-job queen of MGM. Thus explaining the latter's perfunctory endorsement of Bombin' Johnnie, the jolly baby-killer.
But what all this does, more than anything else, is to re-inforce in me the dread, fearful notion that, indeed, this lying, vain, enraged, psychotic asswipe is going to be the next occupant of the ShiteHouse.
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