Five Rude Metaphors For Hillary Clinton's Continuing Campaign:
It's over. It's so fucking over that it's beyond over. It's now at that pathetic, put-it-out-of-its-goddamn misery point. If Hillary Clinton takes this nomination battle to the convention, if she goes back on her own pledge not to "participate" in the Michigan and Florida primaries (that's what the pledge she signed said, not to "campaign" or "participate") and tries to steal the delegates, then she will get to dance a mad jig on the ruins of the Democratic Party, probably to some goddamn overplayed classic rock song from the 1970s.

Today, the Rude Pundit's thinking about Hillary Clinton's campaign metaphorically, as in:

1. The guy who's fucking his girlfriend and, even though he came and his dick has gone flaccid, he's gonna keep fucking away with that soft, shrunken cock, trying desperately to make her orgasm as she just gets annoyed, distracted, cold, and sticky.

2. The dog that got hit by the car trying to cross the highway before that semi bearing down on it finishes the job. Much yelping, limping, and internal bleeding would, of course, be part of the scene.

3. The soldier who is surrounded by the enemy, his head filled with cinematic images of Rambo and Chuck Norris and others who have blasted their way out of such situations, when, in reality, he's about to become a colander.

4. The little match girl.

5. The college student hoping that the roaches and buds left in her baggie will be enough for a few decent bong hits before the big World Civ final, when, really, any high she gets will be all in her head.