Thursday, September 8, 2011

SPECIAL REPORT/part 3: Quoting King!



Lady Collins—and a dog and a joke—are back:

Lady Collins—and a dog and a joke—are back: Did you think your troubled nation was confronting extremely tough issues? Sorry—you were wrong. To wit:

The highest lady, the high Lady Collins, has been away on “book leave” this summer. Sadly, the lady is back. Needless to say, by paragraph 3, she’s talking about Romney’s hair:

THE LADY COLLINS (9/8/11): Debating With the Stars

It was a dark and stormy night.

Except in those parts of the country where it was dry and fire-prone. But what did America care about the weather when it had the chance to forget about its troubles on Wednesday night and curl up with eight candidates for the Republican presidential nomination?

The voters have a lot to figure out. What would it be like to have a president who continually tells the country he’s going to get the working class workin’? And is there something going on with Mitt Romney’s hair? The dark part is looking darker and those little white tufts around the ears are getting whiter. It makes his forehead look as if it’s levitating.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! And before too long, the high lady went there. As she pondered last night’s debate, a familiar voice sounded between her ears. And just like that, she found herself typing about Romney’s poor abused dog:

THE LADY COLLINS: I was sorry that no one asked Perry more of the really critical questions. For instance, is it true that he saved his daughter’s puppy from being eaten by a coyote? This allegedly happened when Perry went jogging “packing a Ruger .380 with laser sights and loaded with hollow-point bullets.” Because, as he says, he is “that kind of guy.” His puppy-rescue is a stirring picture, especially considering that Perry’s chief competitor is the man who drove to Canada with the family dog Seamus strapped to the roof of the car. Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Wonderfully comical high Versailles clowning about “the really critical questions!” Just like that, this became the xxxtr5eenth column in which this highest, most fatuous lady has mentioned that poor roof-strapped dog.