Susan Rice - A History of Being Wrong
by Richard Davidson (mellowinman to you)
Susan Rice has a history of being wrong. She has been wrong many, many times. I think it's time we called her out for it.
Read the details below that stupid orange thing everybody tries to make up cute shit about.
Susan Elizabeth Rice was born sometime in the early sixties, as far as any of us know. Most likely, she is lying about that, and was actually born in the late fifties, or late sixties, or maybe even the mid sixties, and not actually the early sixties, as her official biography alleges. She was born in Washington DC, if you believe that, and not some terrorist country, supposedly, and has never killed thousands of innocent people just so she could save a few bucks at the A&P.
She has a history of being wrong. You won't believe some of the ways she has been wrong over the years. You will soon have your hackles up, which is nice work if you can get it, and most likely, will raise gooseflesh, or at the very least, gooseberries.
The first known time Rice has been found out to be wrong was when she was only three weeks old.
"I think I shall enjoy eating strained peas," she cooed seductively to her parents, causing spontaneous outbursts of glee throughout the Western world, but no sooner had they put the spoon to her lips than she began gagging, making "icky" faces, and spitting up all over her bib. Can you imagine a baby like this growing up to be Head Dungeonmaster of the United Nations? Of course not. It's simply preposterous. If only there were photographs of this travesty, we would be able to hoist the entire Obama Administration, (if you can call them that,) on Captain Picard, or a Spaniard, or perhaps a Spaniel.
And that's my point. Why are we speaking Spanish when this is a nation of Americans, and our official language is American American, just like they spoke in Jesus' time.
Rice once said that her parents taught her to "never use race as an excuse or advantage," but that's not all they taught her. They also taught her not to use a razor, or eat raisins, or to raze anything they built, no matter how fraudulent, or how much it was a stain on America.
And many of the messes she made as a child were, in fact, a stain on America. That paint she spilled on her first childhood front step never did come out completely, and the family that bought that property had to suffer the loss of value that a very, very faint darker color brings to concrete, and the only way they could have regained that kind of equity would be by using a sledgehammer, jackhammer, claw hammer, ballpeen hammer, and six quarts of sugary molasses steeped in vinegar and sold to Virginia Indians while making the sign of the cross.
And that's my point. Christianity was never a high priority in young Susan's life. At the age of seven, she had never saved the soul of a jackrabbit, or taught the cataclysm to Sister Sledge.
I could go on all day, if I were slightly more crazy than I already am, but luckily, the anti-psychotics and restraining orders have already began to take effect, and I shall end by simply listing many of the times this vagabond usurper has been wrong.
*When she thought chickens could fly
*The first time she tried to do math
*When she thought Walmart was a good place to buy building materials
*That time she put red China on a yellow tablecloth
*Every single time she pronounced the word "flabergeebgum" (the "P" is silent)
*When she believed the story about kissing the frog, and wound up turning an alligator into Rush Limbaugh, but only for a moment
*When she actually believed there was a single reasonable Republican here on Earth