Saint Hillary Is Lifted Up Onto Her Cross of Envy
OK, another gathering of Growlers for last night's hubbub at the Dumbocratic Convention. All hands were on deck for the appearance of America's current "superwoman"--and, yes, we Growlers were on pins and needles waiting for Hillary's PR-twist on herself. We ignored the first bunch of caterwauling self-promoting mayors and former mayors and House members and governors--boring as hell, with the exception of Governor Brian Schweitzer of Montana, the governor who has made Montana the ethanol-producing capital of the world and has even promoted using cowshit for fuel in order to save Montana from the wildcatters and mining corporations--and old Brian was in his best old rabble-rousing Dumbocratic style last night--it reminded us older Growlers of old Senator Alben Barkley, a giver of fiery, funny, and anti-Repugnican speeches back in the days of Hairy Ass Truman [Mr. Ed: "Sorry, folks, crudely insulting our crude presidents is house style here--it says in the The Daily Growler Manual of Style--always refer to Harry S. Truman as "Hairy Ass Truman." If you are politically correct, please tune to another blog! and hide your children!"].
But after Brian Schweitzer's hoopla got the Yahoo delegates and guests (mostly guests) all wilded up and giving forth with "Obama, Obama" chants--all quickly hushed as they then fucked up the beginning of Hillary's expensively made promo video, it came on after it had already started, with jerky for a second and then started tracking and the Hillary show began, with the charming Chelsea Clinton narrating. That's when the hooters in the The Daily Growler office (with the analog tv) started in--"Hey, Chelsea," Macy D. Store (our resident Hip-Hop Nation representative--just back from some topless sunbathing on P Diddy's private beach in Saint Tropez) "Ask your mother if reparation payments for your father's not being able to keep his speckled dick in his pants around young women were that he get her elected president?--first him picking New York State as the easiest place for 'carpetbaggers' like Hillary to get herself elected--based on the sympathy vote for her--poor dear, suffering under her exhibitionist husband's continuous penis-related shenanigans." Then The Texan In New York said, "Hillary looks so pissed. She's so envious of that South Side Chicago N-worder who trumped her Chicago workingclass background--hell, Hill, you listened to your stupid Hillbilly husband and his old school advisors, that's why We the People decided we wanted the N-worder Chicagoan rather than your honky privileged big ass." The Texan In New York is usually more proper than that--all the Growlers are in their worst cynical moods--these politicians are such bullshitters--look in their faces when they're reading their prepared speeches--all of 'em running for something--you all dig? All of these governors and House boys and girls and Senators and Hillary in her speech are campaigning for their next elections and Hillary for her next shot at the presidency.
Then when Chelsea made her in-person appearance on stage, walter crackpipe, sipping with Helen Highman-Klein-LaCloos of The Daily Growler Poet's Nook fame on a bottle of cheap Paul Masson brandy, hollered out, "Hey, Chelsea, show us your horse face--those teeth--horse 'em out!" And then from Mr. Ed, our editing horse, in his basement stable-like office, came a memo, "Hey, Crackpipe, you almost got fired, you goof! That makes you a jackass, which is ten times lower than a horse."
And Chelsea introduces her mother and Hillary starts her condescending speech--"I'm Hillary Clinton, more voters want me than that South Side Chicago N-worder--my old daddy told me about N-worders ['Hill, ya give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile'] when we used to drive down Cottage Grove with the windows rolled up even on hot days 'cause we were so scared of those savage-like South Side Chicago N-worders. But, hey, though I think I got screwed on the delegate count, I'll go along with this high-yellow kid--damn, I'm pissed--what happened to all you white ladies who promised to back me all the way?...." And Bill was up in the balcony bigwig area grinning like a "a 'possum eatin' shit."
In the middle of Hillary's speech we suddenly flipped off the analog tv and listened to some of thegrowlingwolf's records he'd left behind--we were listening and dancing and jiving to Frank Motley and His Crew--the original Motley Crew but a black band so Motley Crue, the white band, had to change their last name to get away from the black identity--we don't know this for sure--we're just making a legend out of dual-trumpeter Frank Motley--from Philadelphia--a master of post-bop r & b--a shake 'em on down kind'a band leader with a shake 'em on down kind'a band. So we ended up Hillary's night at the circus by getting drunk and dancing for joy to Frank Motley and His Crew...on into the night...whether we'll be awake for tonight's bullshit speech from Slick Willie with the cum stains on his pants is yet to be seen, except we are cynically hoping old Slick One divides the convention into Chaotic polemnity with his anti-Obama slurs and his pro-McCain and George H.W. Pappy Bush (Bill's best friend remember) way of politics as usual.
Tune in, turn on, and drop out and see!
for The Daily Growler