Alito Tears:
Oh, sweet Martha-Ann Bomgardner, you who would not take the name of Alito as your own, come over here and dry your tears on the Rude Pundit's shoulder. Yes, yes, it is a shame that Sammy had to endure such harsh questions in his hearing, questions like "What do you think?" and "Did you mean it when you said?" and "Why did you do that?" It's so sad, isn't it, that big mean Ted Kennedy wanted to know why Sammy joined the Concerned Alumni of Princeton.

Shhhh, dear Martha-Ann, we all know that you sign up for groups to pad the resume', and, with Sammy applying for a job with the Meese Justice Department, any extra right wing padding would be welcomed. Hell, back in high school, the Rude Pundit briefly belonged to the 4-H Club so he could put it on his college apps. Then he realized he'd have to touch goats and chickens. And when Lindsay Graham sarcastically asked if Sammy was a "closet bigot," well, who could hold back the floodgates for all the implication? It's brutal, the Rude Pundit knows.

Aww, you cry so deliciously, poor Martha-Ann. The Rude Pundit bets that you cry more bravely than that ten-year old girl when she was strip-searched by cops as they probed her ten-year old vagina and anus for packets of drugs. The Rude Pundit bets that you cry more loudly than that mentally disabled guy whose co-workers sodomized him with a broom handle. The Rude Pundit bets that the tears of everyone ever affected by your husband's decisions now and in the future pale in comparison to the tears that streak your face right now.

Hush, Martha-Ann, and let the Rude Pundit comfort you. Let the Rude Pundit love you and make love to you. Cry again when you come. And if you should get pregnant, remember that your husband isn't on the Supreme Court yet.