Tisk, tisk. A fat, pock-faced, greazy haired “blogger” (laughs) should not throw stones…er…frosting tubs and fried chicken. I’m sure your older sister back in Dundalk, MD is constantly “under fire” for your OLD lady girlriend and her darling little pooch, Mad Dog 20/20 is it? Oh…Campari, that’s right! Silly me.

Love,

Jealousy doesn’t come in your size. Try “Sloth” instead.

Powerful, not powerful — who cares? The point is Liz has ruined her strong GOP familial legacy by working for a tabloid and making an ass of herself. Of course, working for a tabloid is a badge of honor in my family — but my family isn’t made up of stodgy Republican lobbyist socialites.

“…ruined her strong GOP familial legacy…”

Familial legacy? What is this — 1887? Oh, and “ruined” it? With a polaroid camera? Again, further illustration of the general retardedness of the post and its warped perspective. It boils down to:

1. Don’t do anything that might annoy powerful people. (”Powerful” was noted in the post — as if this made their comments/feelings more important than others.)
2. Honor your “familial legacy” when it comes to politics and career.

If only there were blogs during the Grover Cleveland administration — BigHeadDC would be, like, the most-read blog in all the land — a veritable bottomless well-spring of cause to titter for the the ladies of the parlour! (”Miss Jemima Dawson was seen Saturday last at the Ole Dallywacker Inn discussing a number of improper items, such as “women’s suffrage,” with a young gentleman of questionable national origin and political disposition. Not only the swarthy complexion of her companion, but the very topic of discussion, would appear to have all but ruined poor Miss Dawson’s strong familial legacy of suppressing women in their proper role as second-class citizens. This is but the latest in an alarming trend around town of the younger members of families apparently adopting thoughts and making choices of their own that do not square with their strong familial legacies. Not only that, but Miss Dawson employed a picture box and proceeded to take tin-type photographs of various gentlemen of proper society who generally enjoy being and expect to be photographed because they are, of course, beautiful and important — but the usual enjoyment is brought into question when it seems that their celebrity is the butt of some joke that they do not get. After all, the picture box was adorned with the most improbable illustration of a child’s baby doll! And it was pink! Dear, dear, we say.”

Honey, it’s a Barbie Doll Polaroid Camera. Your juvenile antics with your Toys R US leftover aren’t quite the same as a female suffragist. Grow up!