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Tuesday, October 09, 2007

How Much Tax Would A Fat Cat Axe?

I know many of you thought you saw the Republican Debate today, but you were deceived by the dirty commie muscular dystrophy wimpo hippies at WSJ and MSNBC--they made it look like something took place in a certain way when indeed it hadn't--just like with the moon landing and that video of my wife practicing tantric calving maneuvers on the Internet. Trust nothing. Trust no one. Trust nothing and no one, but not at the same time. Never trust two constructs at the same time, even if they're similar, even if they smell good.

The fake debate was put there to toughen us up, to help us play our part in the War On Scary. As dutiful soldiers we accept our important role here in the homeland, and in the basement (and at Robbie and Mike's while their mom is at work) and only seek the Truth when Rush tells us to and even then not very hard. We might not even seek the Truth when Malkin does one of those sideline cheers where her po po parts and anguished cries of the damned issue forth. I said we might not. And that is all I will say. Enough said.

But I digress. The General has asked me to not post too much Truth here, for it could drown the unitiated by the sheer force of its distillates--sort of like finding out about Zenu in Scientology before you've paid for the first 63 lessons. Personally, I liken it to seeing God before He showers, something I only did once. I have always, always regretted doing it, as we all should, if only all of us knew, but we don't, so there.

Anyway,as a service to America and the Faithful in our endless war against the scourge of islamowhamopagandemogummoharpogrouchozeppochicoism I give to you today a transcript (partial) of what really went down at the Republican Debate, and quite nearly how far it actually went. I swear by Ann Coulter's dangler that what follows here is the truth, the whole truth, and mostly the truth, so help me Clean God.



Chris Matthews: A big welcome to all the candidates. Starting off, we have tonight Fred Thompson [crickets chirping]--hey, how about French Fried Monkey George Allen's latest job working for you, acting as a campaign co-chair who gives tactical advice to you and your handlers, from tips on how to place a severed deer's head in a black family's mailbox to the use of risible animal references when a brown person takes video of you. With George Allen on your team, you know your good ole' boy bona fides are gonna pop a big woody on the plantation charts fuh shore!

Fred Thompson: How about a big round of applause for me?

[crickets on valium chirping]

Chris Matthews: Listen, Fred Thompson...oh, baby. Listen, I gotta tell you, something about you just charms the pants off of me. They're already at my ankles, and you haven't even locuted yet. I'm sitting here disrobing and smiling like a school girl who knows she is special. I don't know if it's the fact you're an actor like Reagan was or if it's because of the way gravity has pulled your face down like a ball sack accidentally tugged during a Georgia peach harvest. Whatever. But I gotta say, hiring George Allen--not the dead coach, but his son--to be on your team--what was that all about? What are you going for here?

Fred Thompson: I am running for the office of...

Chris Matthews: This may come as a surprise to our candidates but tonight is Tongue Twister Night. So, Fred Thompson to start things off, repeat after me: Macaca Chewbaca Tobacco Staccato. And then reverse the order: Staccato Tobacco Chewbaca Macaca. Go.

Fred Thompson: If you had given me the sides earlier...given me the opportunity to...I could have rehersed...can I get a round of applause here?

Chris Matthews: Ah, ah, ah. This is big time now, my darling. You have to think on your feet. You could think on my feet but if I was on my knees that would mean you would be behind me. Hmm. Darn these shoes. Okay, let's go: any order at all...Chewbaca Tobacco Macaca Staccato.

Rudy Giuliani: 9/11.

Chris Matthews: Not yet, Rudy. Just hold tight.

Rudy Giuliani: Unique, New York. Unique, New York. 9/11.

Chris Matthews: Very good, Rudy. But it doesn't count. Fred?

Fred Thompson: My tricky red trucky got caught in Kentucky. My tricky red trucky got caught in Kentucky.

Chris Matthews: Man! I want you right now. I about "tricky kentucky macaca tobacco staccato chewbaca cantata red trucky?"

Fred Thompson: Cantata? You can't just add...

Mike Huckabee: Huckabee would work if you...

Chris Matthews: But I like that one. "Tricky kentucky macaca tobacco staccato chewbaca cantata red trucky?"

Fred Thompson: 9/11?

Rudy Giulian: That's mine, you ape.

Chris Matthews: Throwing it out there, big guy. I got to tell you...later. I'll...

John McCain: Our Father, who art in Heaven...

Chris Matthews: Okay, John. Let's toss this one to you. Repeat after me: salacious Ignatius bodacious courageous, inimical biblical Ignatius berates us...cantata.

Fred Thompson: Cantata. Can I have a round of applause please?

John McCain: Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, Iran...

Mitt Romney: Tell me what to say and I'll say it.

Chris Matthews: You know, I love Fred but I gotta say, Mitt, you're the fantasy, my friend. The unattainable fantasy. Oh, I just got one of my shoes off...

Mitt Romney: Just say it and I'll say it. I will say it and then say it again. I'm trying to be our next President!

Chris Matthews: You're already President of my naughty dreams, lover boy. Okay, I got one for you: Massachusetts Chattanooga gastric cruise ship appaloosa. Go.

Mitt Romney: Well, let me just let start by saying everyone here probably just wants to go home and not be here anymore.

Rudy Giulian: What are you saying?

Mitt Romney: Exactly.

Rudy Giulian: The thing you're saying. What is it?

Mitt Romney: That is correct.

Rudy Giulian: I don't know what you're saying.

Mitt Romney: 9/11!

Rudy Giulian: Mine! Mine! Mine!

Sam Brownback: I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.

Chris Matthews: I got both shoes off! Mitt,! Get down here now!

John McCain: The Lord is my President, I shall not legislate...

Rudy Giulian: 9/11!

Fred Thompson: I got your 9/11 right here...

Chris Matthews: I knew it! Let me show you what a real tongue twister feels like...

(my television screen went black at this time, so I don't know what happened. I think Tony Soprano was shot by the guy coming out of the bathroom, who looked at lot like Larry Craig, now that I think of it...oh, well, another tale for another time, I suppose...)


A slightly different version of this was posted earlier today at Correntewire but I like this truthful version more better. Way more better.


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