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Move over Ben Shapiro, because it's safe to say that Yer Wonkette, collectively, is simply head over heels for Charles C. "Chuck" Johnson, the brave not-a-blogger (HE'S AN AWARD-WINNING JOURNALIST!!!) who has attached himself to the Mississippi Senate runoff controversy like a particularly tenacious hagfish. Johnson does not care for Thad Cochran! Not even the teensiest bit! But I'm not going to get into the whole "who is right and who is wrong" thing, because unlike Charles C. Johnson, I am JUST a blogger, no "Webbys," so what do I know? What I do know is that RIGHT NOW is clearly Johnson's moment in the sun. So many people paying attention to Chuck and mentioning him in Tweets 'n' such! Alas, enjoy it while you can, because you know about redheads and the sun, right? Join me after the jump, and we'll get deeper into Charles C. Johnson. HAWT.

Charles Johnson! Charles Johnson. Charles C. Johnson. Charles C. CHUCK Johnson. Charles C. CHUCK Johnson. Charles C. CHUCK CHUCK Johnson. Charles C. CHUCK Johnson. Charles C. CHUCK CHUCK CHUCK Johnson. Charles C. CHUCK CHUCK Johnson. Charles C. CHUCK Johnson. Charles C. CHUCK CHUCK CHUCK chuck CHUCK CHUCK CHUCK chuck Johnson. Charles C. CHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCKCHUCK

*motorboat speeds majestically off into the distance*

And don't you forget it! Charles C. Johnson is an actually an award-winning journalist! And an actually an don't you forget it! I won't, because 1. I'm jealous, and 2. I'm totally jealous. You guys, Charles C. Johnson won the prestigious Eric Breindel Collegiate Journalism Award, which is the award given to collegiate journalists who "best reflect the spirit" of Eric Breindel. How many of you can say that? Do you know how many Wonkette writers have won that? NONE. Seriously, not even Snipy. He also won the "Robert Novak Award" which is actually the Robert Novak Alumni Fund Fellowship, for, presumably, best reflecting the spirit of Robert Novak. Again, Charles C. Johnson: 1; Wonkette bloggers: 0.

I am now going to write a poem about Charles C. Johnson:

There once was an award-winning journalist named Chuck

Whoa, stop! OK, I am NOT going to write a poem about Charles C. Johnson.

Speaking of spirit reflections, Chuck C. Johnson was walking down the halls of power one day when he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in a mirror. Mesmerized, he stopped to gaze at the lifelike visage. "Who is that?" he wondered. Then a tiny voice whispered in his ear, "That's the future of journalism!" And so then, with all the confidence of a lion in a coliseum, he proceeded to his Twitter account, where he called Haley Barbour "fat." And it's true! Haley Barbour IS fat. Journalism! Can somebody please give Chuckles an award? I mean, an additional award? Isn't there, like, a Twitchy Ben Shapiro Fellowship or something? Is there a Pulitzer for retweeting?

Charles C. "Chuck" Johnson may not be a blogger, but my goodness, the kid sure can type! Don't you want to fund his typing? He's got, like, a kickstarter for a gofundme or something, so you should give all yr moneys to Chuck! You want hard-hitting journalism? Are you sure? Here's Charles C. Johnson clarifying some of his recent journalism: "There is no proof that [my wild new NRSC accusation] is true," he explained to a handful of non-award-winning journalists, "but there is no proof that it is not true." YES. I am standing up in my chair and Cheering 4 Chuck™ right now! Ow, it's a swiveling chair and I fell and hit my head.

And don't you forget it! Oh, grrrrrrr, I'm just so mad at those snooty corporate "Ben Jacobses" and "David Weigels" saying mean things about our Chuck (they're all still bitter over that Robert Novak thing)! And the nerve of that Brett Logiurato, perched atop his plush, cash-filled mattress at Business Insider for reporting that somebody called our Chuck a "megatroll"! And all those other so-called journalists who point out that Charles C. Johnson pays his sources and sometimes that doesn't work out so well for him? You know who else pays for people to talk to them? Oprah. And who is the new Oprah? Charles C. Johnson is the new Oprah. And he will bury you all:

Imagine that! What if it were true? What if, in five years, the last journalist standing was Charles C. Johnson?

GOOGLE HIM, PRICK.

Cuddles 'n' hugz, Princess Sparkle Pony.

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Voters in Oklahoma approved a June ballot initiative making medical marijuana legal, and in response, the state's Republican establishment has gone into full Reefer Madness Freakout Mode, certain that if anyone gets a prescription for wacky tobacky, folks will be smoking marijuana in Muskogee, and wearing roman sandals instead of leather boots. Among those getting in on the fun of a full-on political panic was Julie Ezell, the general counsel for the State Department of Health, who resigned last week after it was revealed she'd written threatening emails to herself and claimed they'd been sent by dangerous weed advocates. Ezell was charged Tuesday with making a false police report and generally being a narc in the incident. Authorities are said to be weighing an uptight buzzkill enhancement.

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Two days ago, Donald Trump pulled off his stinky diaper, rubbed it into his orange hair, and shouted WHERE'S MUH PARADE? He'd just emerged from a two-hour, closed-door meeting with a former KGB officer, confident that his manly charm and unfailing natural instincts had carried the day again. Putin said he didn't hack the DNC, and why ever not wouldn't Trump just not believe him!

So, what did Trump and Putin discuss when they were mano-a-mano? Only Vladimir Putin's listening device knows! Donald Trump is a stable genius, and geniuses don't take notes!

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