I’ve finally figured out how I’m going to get filthy, stinking rich. I deserve it of course, for being the sunshiny kind of guy that I am. I’m going to find a company that manufactures corks for flapping, leftist pieholes, and sink every penny I’ve got into it. Recent events have proven to me that it’ll be a goldmine.
We’ll start off with the reddest Tory in the Chamber of Somnambulant Second Thought: the Senator formerly known by the Rowell-Jackman sur-monicker but now going, Roseanne-esque, by only the given names of Nancy Ruth. Count Igula – likely following Frank Graves’ advice about setting off a culture war – recently tried his damnedest to drag out the abortion issue and run a few volts through the bolts in its neck. (Apparently, it didn’t occur to Iffy that it might not be such a great idea to take strategic advice from a guy whose name sounds so much like the unfortunate bugger on the right. Go on, Iggy, grab the cables; you’ll be fine) Well, that didn’t work out too well. Harper pretty much gave him the Dion treatment and dared Ignatieff to huff, puff and blow the house down and now Nancy has some advice for the screeching chior of the infanticide congregation: STFU. (more…)