Hide the returns in the underwear

Now that the lies have settled, I can’t get the meatloaf out of my cranial sieve. Of all W2’s well-documented mega-mendacities, this little one bugged me the most. Why would a guy worth a quarter of a billion (a fraction of what our mayor is worth, BTW) want to pretend he eats poor food? Did he really think anyone would really believe Anntoinette was really bringing home the fecal material from Costco in one of her Cadillacs? Come on — the little people don’t want to imagine rich guys settling for what a convicted murderer would order as his last meal. The least he could have done was drop a few adjectives from the menu from his first dinner out after losing big. But I guess that would involve the truth.

Bake English, damn it!

I keep thinking that if W2 were a food brand, he would have “honest” on the label. Cuz everyone knows what that means. As it is, this graphic about his attitude toward Big Bird says it all. Just hope everyone planning to vote for him understands that under Mormon rule there will be no zinfandel to wash down the privatized turkey.

Starbucks in Utah forever . . .

I’ll give Panchito this credit: He inadvertently exposed how easily seduced any campaign reporter can be by a wink and a towel snap. So thank allah and Al Gore’s invention of the internets that America won’t be fooled again. Those who throw away their teevees and let their print subscriptions lapse will still learn about “a pony in every pot.” And about how bogus every food-related photo op with the dog & pony abuser really is. Even those who don’t dwell on gods and guns and religion should be fearing for their coffee. Any guarantee a Mormon in Chief won’t take the caffeine away?