And Lord knows Shakesarah won't stop twitterin' nonsense 'til this ovarian-shrouded mystery is solved once and for all. That, or at least until the English language finally ups & quits and refuses to be embarrassed by this fast-fingered Arctic idiot anymore, 140-character limits be damned!
"Who hijacked term:"feminist"?A cackle of rads who want 2 crucify other women w/whom they disagree on a singular issue; it's ironic (& passé)".
For starters, what the dickens is a "cackle of rads?
Is it a post-new wave British punk band you've never heard of? The charming sound of boisterous laughter coming from the cool kids' table at Bristy's high school back in Wasilla? A terrifying clan of rabid hyenas scouring for prey on the African plains? Chemically reactive atoms, molecules, or ions laughing hysterically while coursing through your bloodstream to give you awful diseases like cancer? Perhaps a series of nonsensical words meaning nothing strung together from some illiterate idiot's Twitter feed, cause it sounds cool 'n funky, and might be worth a buck or two in the future? Slap that badboy on a t-shirt or on the back of Sarah's #1 Grandma mug, and voila, cha-ching!
Or could it be a cabal of freaky hippie-dippie femiNAZIS from Berkeley with hairy legs and underarms who actually believe that women should have the right to decide what to do with their own reproductive organs?
Ewww, gross. No wonder they're all probably angry lezzies since no man would ever want unsightly hair-filled "cackling rads" of vegans and feminist fury. Ha ha, c'mon now, nasty! That's soooooo five decades ago, or as Sarah would say, "passé." She even took the time to look up how to correctly spell that weird, foreigny word that sounds suspiciously French (maybe even Muslim!) on her blackberry, which seems like something an arugula-eating librul elitist might do, not a patriotic freedom-fighter like ol' Mama Grizz over here.
After all, accented letters are probably nothing more than terrorist plots to insert Islam into our language, or at the very least, to bring down English and replace it with some other horrible, tilde-rich language like Mexican or whatever.
But, in honor of the the 90th anniversary of women's suffrage, I suppose the new fearless leader for a woman's right to murder moose is allowed to copy and paste accented words she looked up on the internets when philosophizing on awesome lady issues (like, which color lipstick is best for a hunt?), or how to make lemon meringue pie out of getting incestuously raped and impregnated by your father. Hint: keep the special li'l miracle of God and be thankful you have anything at all, you ungrateful harlot!
Yes, the brave defender of whackjobs with breasts the world over will not rest until every last woman is denied the right to choose whether or not they want to follow in the footsteps of Bristol and have their own precious li'l miracle of one drunken night of unprotected sex in the back of Papa's pickup. So they can also give it some weirdo name before neglecting it for their burgeoning career starring in public service announcements telling poor people to pause before having abortions or sexytime (with Levi?) sans the jimmy hat.
But, still the question remains, how can a sound, such as a cackle want something, let alone do anything, like say, perform an actual crucifixion?
It’s "ironic!" she knows. (Eh, no it’s actually not.) You know what else is ironic in a not ironic sort of way? This same modern day, bra-burning Mama Grizzly turning her feminist fangs towards another helpless, innocent woman crucified by what could only be the same "cackle of rads" after St. Sarah herself.
This time, to help the lovely Dr. Laura Schlessinger flex her feminist mouth muscles in the form of the freedom to spew the N-word on her national radio program as much as he she damn well pleases, because well, she's a woman, so everyone deserves to hear her
Hear that America? Sweet Sarah will not sit back and allow Dr. Laura to be muzzled by a bunch of hypersensitive blacktivists who don't approve of a well-known racist dropping the N-bomb 11 times in five minutes to dismiss some dumb, dark-skinned caller’s concerns about the use of the word by her white husband. Umm, maybe next time you should stick to your own stupid race when tying the knot, if you're gonna be all “hypersensitive about color” and lacking “a sense of humor" whenever someone randomly starts shrieking that lovely, not-at-all offensive word that starts with N and rhymes with bigger.
You go girl! Keep empowering those women by defendin' their God-given right to hate black people (and Muslims!), and spew all the racist invectives their cold-white hearts desire on national radio shows, while at the same time bashing those dirty, insensitive Muslims for having the (falafel) balls big enough to build a mosque 4 blocks from hallowed, strip-club dotted Ground Zero and "collectively stab Americans, who still have that lingering pain from 9/11, in the heart."
Woohoo!
Maybe we could take the shackles off Dr. Laura and put them on the dang Muslims instead, so they can't stab White Christian America in the eye anymore for no reason, and Sarah can move on to other pressing women issues like how much you can mouth off before your hubby has the right to smack that dumb smirk right off your face? Answer: Just keep your stinkin' trap shut and speak only when spoken to, got it woman? Oh, and dinner better be waiting when he gets home or else someone's gonna be falling down the stairs again, capisce?
So, happy voting anniversary to all the pretty gals out there (sorry, uglies or fatties don't count as women in Sarah's book). Now get your big ol' behinds back in the kitchen where they belong and let Mama Bear handle the rest.
Don't worry, y'all! Your rights are in good hands, so long as you don't do anything stupid like get knocked up, go to college, get a job, demand equal pay, marry a black man, think Muslims deserve the same religious rights as everyone else, get offended by miserable white wretches shouting "N*gger" on air, have more than a working knowledge of the English language, or want to be represented by someone other than some asinine oxymoron-twitterin' fool, affectionately known to those with brains not Arctic slush between their ears, as a Foxymoron.
So remember ladies. Keep your hair styled, your hoohas ready, and never forget the those three heroes who dedicated their lives to make the world a better, more ism-filled place.
Sarah Palin = Feminism
Timothy McVeigh = Patriotism
Adolf Hitler = Altruism
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