Written By Doug Giles
Did you see the Hilldebeest during last week’s UN presser try to pawn off on us po’ rubes that she didn’t break any email rules during her stint as Secretary Of State and that we … we … are actually uncouth for even questioning her “integrity”?
That spiel was chocked-full of more deuces than a colicky baby’s diaper. A myopic Cyclops could see that. My Jack Russell was even hip to her deception and walked up to the massive Restoration Hardware steamer trunk that our TV sits on and whizzed all over it during her entire twenty-one minute and five-second Bullcrapalooza rebuke.
By the way, my dog Ruger has never done that before. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
Look, I’m no body language expert. Tonya Reiman I am not. But even the cloudiest amongst us could tell Hillary was flinging more scat that day than a cat trying to bury diarrhea in wet sand.
One thing I noticed, as she lied out of her tail pipe to the nation, was how she looked all over the room, like Stevie Wonder playing the piano and singing “Isn’t She Lovely”. When I was a drug dealer during my college days, my buddy ‘Itchy’, who was a crystal meth tweaker, did a better job of keeping it together as he conned his mom into believing he was on Benadryl than the Hilldebeest did trying to bamboozle us plebeians that she’s clean.
Good Lawd, woman, that was some pathetic bunkum-spewing. Take some lessons from Bill, why don’t ‘cha?
You could tell from her physiological tics that she didn’t even believe herself; and I bet when she got back to her limo, and got the door shut on the Towncar, she let out a fusillade of F-bombs that would make Andrew Dice Clay proud.
Read more: Clash Daily