Ah, disaffection! Back in the day when Warren Commission "single bullet theory" Arlen was alive, missing his memory, this guy was American brand right wing. Toomey doesn't know the spastic dowager blog, of course not. Too busy with his stature, but I make Toomey look like Eisenhower. Stark and bitter laugh Jim Brady would not find *classy,* to channel Judy Woodruff. I pasted everything Toomey's staff considers sniveling grievance in his content window to save time, knowing as a federal legislator there isn't much, as a former businessman, Toomey can do for my urban spiritual malaise, but change of habitat urgency breeds strange bedfellows, even if a fascist takeover of the US government has been done. It is already here.
I fantasize about becoming a political operative for our seductive libertarians like Rand Paul. The Fourth Estate is hotter and heavier in its fascination with libertarian streaks than the average citizen, (only the faintest familiarity with Burke's political philosophy) I suspect. Political journalists hold their breath, waiting for an ideological schism within the nominating ranks every election cycle, and every election cycle to my less than engaged political conscience, libertarians fold. No drama, no surge of excitement about hard liners who will make the trains run on time. It gives me a nearly youthful nearly orgasmic rush, despotism! Women never admit this is our true path to power, through the penises to which they lay claim.
Last time, I was flattered, astonished, tickled, when a Toomey staffer telephoned me. It led to Tim's departure, the nearly 70 year old dope fiend who initiated all of this stress and more games with homosexual psychosis, reigniting my death to blondes sentiments. This time I'll probably receive a form letter telling me to comply with HUD regulations.
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