Monday, March 13, 2017

The Bowling Green Microwave

First of all, I begrudgingly give her points for knowing that "surveil" is a legitimate verb. But she has spouted so many lies and dodged so many questions and defended so much borderline-to-actual treasonous stupidity that she's pre-emptively undermined everything she ever has or will say on any topic real or delusional and I see her as little more than the end of a sewer pipe. So all earned points -- begrudging or not -- are hereby revoked on principle, in perpetuity.

Now. "Microwaves that turn into cameras."

I'm no surveillance expert, so for all I know there is somewhere in some secret-location subterranean server room a vast database of microwave-taken photos of every person in America folding napkins and doing dishes. Except me. Because I hate doing dishes. But again, given Miss Kellyanne's abovementioned in-perpetuity sewer status, this Bowling Green Microwave Incident defines a level of intellectual firepower and imploding integrity that is actually lower than rock-bottom. Fathoms lower. And it's filled with accidentally burned popcorn. And rubbery scrambled eggs. And reheated cinnamon rolls that turn into chewy rocks if you don't eat them in 3.75 seconds. And, though I'm admittedly sometimes immature on this topic, I do try not to make gratuitous insults based on someone's appearance. But microwaves. Cameras. Kellyanne's face. It's all just too irresistible. Now, please pass the popcorn.

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