Senate Republicans Have a Celebration Orgy:
The Senate Republican cloakroom was filled with whores yesterday. No, not the senators themselves, who were taking the afternoon off from letting the Chamber of Commerce sodomize them, the better for their assholes to regain some elasticity. There were real, actual, non-metaphorical prostitutes there, female and male, paid for by Karl Rove's American Crossroads GPS and its billionaire donors. Not only would the organization's funds be written off by the rich men and women who just got a tax cut, but the organization could write off the hookers as a business expense. And so here was a big cocksucking "thank you" for this win-win-win, just the way Republicans like compromises to work.
On the 52-inch LED TV screen next that was hung up in a spot where a the head of a moose shot by Teddy Roosevelt once gazed over the room, the Democratic President, Barack Obama, was giving his news conference where he justified his signing off on, at bare minimum, a postponement of one of his signature campaign promises. "[W]hen they expire in two years, I will fight to end them," Obama said, and Jon Kyl laughed, sucked on a cigar, whipped out his dick, and told the coked-out Russian blonde teenager, "Lemme fuck your mouth-silo with my ICBM." She snorted some blow from Barry Goldwater's gold-covered memorial eyeglasses case and started work on Kyl's crank.
Around the room, the scene was repeated with variations. There was Orrin Hatch whipping himself while watching a pair of thin brunette women go down on each other. There was John McCain having a Sarah Palin lookalike shove a bamboo dildo up his ass. There was Lindsey Graham secretly getting blown under one of the mahogany tables by a cross-dressed fat dude. There was Susan Collins, moaning as she was roughly fucked in a chair that was built by Thomas Jefferson's slaves. Inhofe blowing a tranny. Ensign pretending not to notice that he was being hand-jobbed by a Filipino in a maid outfit. Scott Brown running around naked and getting the whores to tell him how hot he looked. On and on, with Mitch McConnell watching the screen, not taking his eyes off the President, even as he was teabagging a forlorn young, hung and cut Mexican dude.
When Obama said, "I think it’s tempting not to negotiate with hostage-takers, unless the hostage gets harmed," McConnell shook his head. "Everyone hear that? We're kidnappers." He looked down at the Mexican man who would have been tortured to death by Rove if he whispered a word of what happened. McConnell asked, "You don't think we're kidnappers, do you?" Mouth full of an old turtle's balls, thinking about his family back home, the man silently shook his head. The Minority Leader patted his head and sipped on some single-malt, thinking, "Well, oughta say something about that."
Rove watched it all on closed-circuit, recording every moment for future use. It couldn't have worked out better, he thought. For $56 billion in unemployment insurance, a mere bag of shells these days, about a third of the AIG bailout, the Republicans had not only pleased every donor they could find, but they had made the first hole in the wall around Social Security, even getting Democrats to praise the payroll tax cut that would reduce the coffers of the last great New Deal program, thus necessitating a movement to privatization at a later date.
And there went Obama, attacking the left, just as Rove had predicted he would, since Obama projects his anger onto everyone he sees as not backing him, calling them ideological "purists" who are "sanctimonious" about it. This, too, was part of what Rove wanted, the rancid icing on the shit cake that Obama was forced to eat. Obama attacked his base, angering them, making them talk primary opponent and filibuster, maybe even depressing the turnout for 2012. It's all, all seeds that will flower in 23 months. Of course they were hostage takers. Of course it was the poor with the guns to their heads. And of course Rove was willing to make McConnell and the rest go out and shoot them dead. You don't take hostages if you're not willing to execute them. That's the beauty of the act.
Back inside the cloakroom, out of the view of Rove's cameras, Jim DeMint watched the orgy, disgusted by the entire enterprise, insulted that he wasn't singled out for his purity and sanctimony. "Relax, Jim," Thad Cochran called out. "Grab one of the negresses and have a good time. And when unemployment benefits run out next year, we'll tell Obama that he has to tap dance for us Bojangles-style if he thinks it's so important that Tiny Tim eats."