Having a cunt doesn’t make a woman one, but frankly, my dear, Hillary Clinton is a cunt

Decent Americans who support candidates other than Hillary Clinton have remained silent for far too long about the flagrant manner in which she and her campaign have abused the sex card in a crude ploy to shame dissidents into shutting up. These fuckers bandy Clinton’s womanhood about with all the subtlety and decorum of bailiffs stuffing a rag into Charles Cullen’s mouth by way of bodily holding him in contempt of court. Free citizens who are not presently being sentenced for serial murder deserve better than this, and it’s past time that we demand it of this hideous claque of whinging, censorious, recurrently butthurt mandarins.

Hillary Clinton is one woman. There are, I dunno, eighty or a hundred million grown-ass women in this country, most of them not Hillary Clinton. Most of the rest are not Chelsea Clinton. Jane Sanders, a woman, is married to Bernie Sanders, a man lately known for publicly annoying Hillary Clinton with implicit but unmistakable accusations of nation-wrecking public corruption. This is problematic, as Hillary Clinton is womanhood, just as Lloyd is Jamaica and Muammar Qaddafi was history resistance liberty glory revolution, and remains the first of these to this day. Hillary keeps the Qaddafian tradition of grandiose narcissism alive, although she prefers to use more superficially democratic versions of the Colonel’s Original Recipe in her insatiable quest for power. Siding with that tendentious alte kaker just because he has the most attractive platform of any of the candidates is tantamount to encouraging Don Draper to rape a bitch, and furthermore to refuse to refer to her as an administrative assistant, like it’s still 1960 or something. As Madeleine Albright has said, there’s a special place in hell for women who don’t back up other women at all times, or something. Do you want to be the sister who throws Hillary Rodham Clinton to the wolves just because she is the current public face of the organized crime family that robbed your hometown blind? #LeanIn for some #EqualPay, baby girl.

This is the state of Democratic Party politics today: “Break up the banks” v. “You wagged your finger at her, and that was misogynistic;” “There’s far too much inequality in this country” v. “You talked over her at the debates, when you were supposed to meekly allow her to interrupt you all night, like a good male feminist ally;” “The Secretary should release the text of her paid speeches to Goldman Sachs” v. “This is an unusual demand in modern American politics, and besides, all the Secretaries of State cash out on the speaking circuit, therefore this demand is nothing but male chauvinist piggery.” Every crooked, self-dealing, ruinous attack that Hillary has launched against the American commonweal over the course of her career is magically transformed into the most fragrant flower of upstanding free womanhood the moment Bernie criticizes her for it. It’s because he’s a man and she’s a woman. Besides, the margins of the Sanders campaign contain some fratty-looking dudes who can be hotly taken into possession as Berniebros, making the entire campaign the province of your date rapist and his buddies. Surely you have a rapist, yes? All the cool girls do these days. Even Hillary has noted Juanita Broderick acquaintance William Jefferson Clinton.

HR raised to the C. Now, there’s a bloody cunt who should join Nurse Cullen in the Fellowship of the Rag. Her lips are movin’, her lips are movin’, and unlike Meghan Trainor, she admits no insight into her own materialism. If you didn’t care for the feminine hygiene insinuations above, here’s some masculine hygiene you may enjoy: I went 52 hours straight without bathing this week for reasons of financial hardship, a thing that I’d be amazed to hear that Hillary Clinton has ever done.

Why yes, but of course I’m the sort of man who can be shamed for saying indecent things about an indecent woman. As the Samuel L. Jackson-looking vagrant told me when I threatened to call the police on him for following me across Inglewood, almost to the scene of Jeremy Morse’s famous Jacksonian nuthurt (D) (no relation to Michael), go ahead and make that fucking call. I don’t care. Free speech really is free on WordPress, and ain’t no white girl checking this privilege from Chappaqua.


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