But just because Rob has a slight acquaintance with the world beyond the right wing bubble does not mean he is immune to its strange fevers and dark passions. Witness this sonnet he's cranked out in praise of Ann Coulter's feminine charms:
Unapologetic, Unsinkable, Unwavering Ann Coulter
Had she been born a century ago......it would explain those missing co-eds and that brownish-red ring around her bathtub.
...Ann Coulter would have been a movie star.And Max Schrek would have been shining shoes outside the UFA commissary.
She’s got movie star eyes:Three, in fact. One belonged to Sammy Davis, Jr., one to Sandy Duncan, and the third was acquired by Ann in 1997, when she rolled a drunken Peter Falk outside Musso & Franks. Friends have advised her to take up a less gruesome hobby, like collecting Troll Dolls, or scrapbooking.
They’re big and round and they lock onto you with the intensity and fire that silver nitrate film was invented for.Unfortunately, they're equally as volatile, and during a visit with her parents to the MGM lot in 1967, Ann's eyes caught fire in the film vault, burning the Technicolor scenes from Broadway Melody, the Three Stooges musical short, Hello, Pop!, several silent Our Gang comedies, and the camera negative of London After Midnight.
And she’s got a movie star laugh:Specifically, Eddie Deezen's.
It’s full and round and loud when she wants it to be, and she almost always wants it to be.This also describes her attitude toward Jonah Goldberg's ass.
But more than her starlet eyes and her ravishing laugh, Ann Coulter is having fun. She loves being the unsinkable, unapologetic Ann Coulter.I never really thought of Ann Coulter as a refugee from the Golden Age of Hollywood -- a latter day Veronica Lake, perhaps, or -- with her puckish sense of wit and whimsy -- a modern Carole Lombard, or Skelton Knaggs. But perhaps Rob was inspired by his own resemblance to Thomas Mitchell's eyebrows.
And that drives the left around the bend, which is reason enough to list Ann as one of the nation’s top conservatives, let alone top female conservatives.Because as Socrates said, "It's not the quality of your argument that will carry the day, but how big a snot you can be while making it."
We already know the basics: Ann is a dazzlingly gifted polemicist. She’s a scary-smart writer—I may not agree with your politics, Rob, but even I've got to admit -- when you're half-right, you're half-right.
readers of her latest book, Demonic: How the Liberal Mob is Endangering America will have noticed a new level of power and philosophy in her writing.The title, along with the black candles and blood-stained goat skull in her living room, hint at the source of Ann's increased powers. Therefore, Unbeliever, beware when you crack her tome, for it is full of the deadliest philosophy, and has been known to kill with a single syllogism.
On television, where we all (sadly) get increasingly more of our information, Ann Coulter is a dervish of debate and verbal smarts: Ann never backs down, never shrugs a question and, what’s more, alone among the pundits (left and right) she’s never weasel-worded an answer.Ann Coulter: glamorous movie star. Sufi ascetic.
This gets her into trouble—there are protests in the universities, outrage in the left-wing press, and general bafflement among the smug media courtesans. How could this blonde she-devil capture so many readers? How can this troublemaking, outspoken lady, clad in her chic little dresses and glamour-girl shoes, be so popular?If by "popular" you mean "continues to be stocked in Dollar Stores long after her Sell By date has passed and the button has popped up on her lid," then yes. It's a mystery.
Ann is our powerhouse, our Patton."Coulter...You magnificent bastard! I didn't read your book! But I understand it's being given away free with a subscription to Human Events..."
Ann marches in front of our parade with a fearless wit, and in sexy heels, too.You're really fixated on her feet, Rob. I'm no dating and romance expert, but I assume the next stage of your relationship will involve you sneaking into her bedroom during a cocktail party and trying on her fuck-me pumps. Best of luck to you crazy kids! and bring a shoehorn.
Is this a make-up because GOProud forgot to send her a birthday card or something?
Unfortunately, they're equally as volatile, and during a visit with her parents to the MGM lot in 1967, Ann's eyes caught fire in the film vault, burning the Technicolor scenes from Broadway Melody, the Three Stooges musical short, Hello, Pop!, several silent Our Gang comedies, and the camera negative of London After Midnight.
I wanted to comment "Scott, you magnificent bastard..." and then I read the same allusion later in this post. Suffice it to say, this is the best laugh I've had all week.
In the past when Coulter was confronted with a truth-talking Liberal she's pretty much squeals, like the litte girl she isn't and maybe never was, and runs to hide behind Hannity or whoever is pimping her that day.
Ann Coulter is a beautiful, wise goddess. . .
Ann Coulter is a beautiful, wise goddess. . .
(LAURA PETRIE VOICE) Ohhhhh, Rob...!
(LAURA PETRIE VOICE) Ohhhhh, Rob...! I almost choked to death over that one. ;-)
I wouldn't piss on her if she was on fire but Trashcan Annie sure can lie better than most rightwing nutters. Why don't they run her ass for Pres?
Coulter has movie star eyes, but they're actually like Mary Morris in the title sequence of Double Door.
I'm pretty sure she's "Unsinkable" because he hasn't held the handle down long enough to get the full flush.
You know, nobody has to do anything to Ann Coulter, or anything about Ann Coulter, because we have no leverage for or against her nightmare, which is that she is aging and cannot clutch the sash and tiara of Pretty Girl-ness much longer. (Shut up, I am being generous.) This is something I know from having not been a girl for quite some time, not to mention that I was never really pretty except for the summer that I was 17. I was totally golden and gorgeous, for, like, six weeks.
What I mean is, I don't care especially. I am oldish and hope to become genuinely elderly some day. But Ann Coulter does care. Even if I liked her, I would be powerless.
I don't know, she's irredeemably rotten and I'm convinced her books are cobbled together by child slave labor in one of Dickie Scaife's black sites, but this new information about the camera negative of London After Midnight takes her perfidy to an entirely new level. I'm talkin' singing cab driver territory here, justifiable homicide is the operative phrase I believe.
"readers of her latest book, Demonic: How the Liberal Mob is Endangering America will have noticed a new level of power and philosophy in her writing."
Her writing is reminiscent of great works such as:
John Locke's "An Essay Concerning Human Excrement and how to get Regency Publishing to Sell It"; or
Immanuel Kant's "Critique of Pure Reason using a Baseball Bat."
He's right: she even resembles one of the biggest stars of the era!
Rin Tin Tin
Not sure you are right that a shoehorn will be necessary. . .
Movie Star Eyes? Oh Hell Yes--deepset into cavernous sockets; like Karloff, only with extra loads of mascara and eyeliner[swoon].
It appears from the photo that's she presiding over an event at the "Claire Booth Luce" Policy Institute. Was she always so gaunt? If she gets any thinner she can stand sideways, stick out her tongue and be mistaken for a zipper.
Dusty, you didn't know there was a "Claire Booth Luce" Policy Institute?
The "Claire Boothe Luce" Policy Institute was formed in 1938. It's charter was to block Tallulah Bankhead from being cast for the Norma Shearer role in "The Women" against the advice of George Cukor and Anita Loos.
They joined forces again in 1941 to prevent Tallu from being cast in "The Little Foxes" (which Ms. Bankhead formerly headlined to great success on B'way).
Their third attempt ran into serious trouble, as this time they were dealing with Alfred Hitchcock. Claire and Ayn wanted Deanna Durbin for the part of Connie Porter in "Lifeboat" but Mrs. Hitchcock would have none of it. John Steinbeck himself said "No, No, No" to the musical number that Claire convinced Meridith Wilson to write for the scene when William Bendix loses his foot, or leg, or something.
In any even Tallulah put down those bitches and got the role. It's one of her best.
If Claire & Ayn were around today, you can bet there would be juicy Hollywood scripts begging for review by Ann Coulter. But they're not around. And we can thank our lucky stars, as it were.
she’s never weasel-worded an answer.
yeah, she's more of a honeybadger answer type
and that picture, is that a sing-a-ma-jig on her chest?
You know, preznit, I hadn't noticed, because I don't think I've ever actually looked at Ann's bust before, but now that you mention it...
Somebody squeeze her and see if her boobs sing "When the Saints Go Marching In."
I'm assuming Scott said that in answer to Mary's "stop staring," because, let's face it, Ann has a rack not normally found on such a willowy, uh, girl.
I'm just gonna say it: I believe that's a tit job, acquired in haste as Ann struggled with her gangly sexuality in her late teens or early twenties.
It's sad really, because I further believe that Ann, in her heart of hearts, regrets it, inasumuch as her actions and words reveal a desire to someday be a real live boy, a course of action which her political inclinations simply forbid.
Stripped of the eye makeup, Ann's a fairly handsome guy, in the Errol Flynn (or more modern, Matthew McConaughey) mold. A pretty boy, yes, but a boy.
I wish she lived in a world that allowed her to get it on wit the sex change, but, well, she doesn't.
I'll leave it at that for now except to say that I'd give anything to talk to Ann's parents-- I suspect that I'd be left stroking my beard like Papa Freud himself and whispering to myself:
Keith, I thank you for the explanation kind sir, I found it fascinating.
I also laughed my brown ass off at the zipper part of your remark. ;-)
BTW, what is the fucking profit margin about digging-up Natalie Wood 30 fucking yeas later?
Annti, these revelations are the same revelations he's been trying to sell in a book he's been trying to get published for thirty years. They are recent only in the sense that somebody asked him the other day about it.
Natalie Wood got drunk and fell off a boat. It happens all the time, and you'll just have to trust me on this one, it happens more often than you'd think in the harbors offered by Catalina Island. Why, I remember one time where a marijuana exchange between one boat and another went awry and--
Uh, Look you, I used to live on Catalina, and I know the stuff.
Antti, I have sad news for you. Betty Bowers has apparently broken free from her hospital "humane restraints" and went straight away to the hospital pharmacy, where she wielded water pipes torn from her shower at the staff. She demanded a dozen vials of "Versed" plus syringes for injection. I'm worried about Betty. If I know her, she'll next be sending threatening emails to Roche Pharmaceuticals and this may be her downfall. If only they hadn't switched her over to Klonipin none of this tragedy would have occurred. It's very sad, particularly for Thanksgiving day.
Sorry, wrong post for this comment. It was the turkey.
I'm just gonna say it: I believe that's a tit job, acquired in haste as Ann struggled with her gangly sexuality in her late teens or early twenties.z
Those are the sacks where she stores the nubile virgin blood.
Regarding the title, I suspect that Ann makes Rob "long" because he secret hopes hers is bigger... ;)
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