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Clarence Thomas' Heaving Body In the Heat of Passion, Described

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Quickcrete.Congratulations to Lillian McEwen, that woman who was finally able to overcome years of terrible embarrassment about having sex with Clarence Thomas to write a book about it. D.C. Unmasked & Undressed is the title of this newly released memoir, because the people who write tell-all memoirs are weirdly terrible at this part of marketing. Obviously this book should be entitled What Clarence Thomas' Dick Looks Like and How He Uses It, as that's the only reason why anyone would buy it. Anyway, what does death-eyed Clarence Thomas' writhing frame look like when it's sweating and releasing other gross fluids all over your poor, defenseless lady parts? Like "coffee-bean ... velvet-covered cement." What?


McEwen gushes over Thomas’ prowess and "fantasy [package]," describing his body as "coffee-bean ... velvet-covered cement."

He was a "national treasure," she said, one she shared with other women in ménages à trois and in a voyeuristic pleasure palace. And she described her then-lover as being "easily aroused," with a "strong interest in pornography."

Some day we will have to get Ruth Bader Ginsburg drunk and ask her if the number of boners he has popped on the bench is greater than the number of words he has spoken from it. And then we will have to kill ourselves, because why are we thinking about Clarence Thomas' boner? This is all gross. [AFRO]

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If it's a day, the New York Times is fucking shit up, but today, it fucked up BIGLY.

Fresh-faced access journalists Adam Goldman and Michael Schmidt have just published what we can only describe as a drive-by shooting against Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein, which reads as some bullshit planted by the White House to give Donald Trump the pretext for his Saturday Night Massacre, if he wants it. (He does.)

Maybe the White House is tired of talking about the flailing nomination of Judge Maybe Rapey and how Paul Manafort and Michael Cohen are cooperating with special counsel Robert Mueller, and the New York Times was more than happy to help!

Or maybe it was planted by former deputy director of the FBI Andrew McCabe, who was fired by Attorney General Jeff Sessions just hours before his pension was set to kick in, and may have a serious axe to grind with DoJ officials and leaked a copy of his own memos. (His lawyer says that's not true, but he would say that, wouldn't he?)

Or maybe it's both, somehow! Or one of many other things!

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It's not every day Golf Digest gets noticed as a source of hard-hitting investigative journalism, at least outside of reviews of titanium carbon fiber nanotech infinite improbability drivers or some such. But Wednesday, some journamalisming that started with a Golf Digest story about a guy who drew fantastic imaginary golf courses concluded with that guy, Valentino Dixon, walking out of Attica prison, 27 years after he'd been sentenced for 39 years to life. Not bad, Golf Digest. We give you a GOLF CLAP. And a Pulitzer if we had one, which, sadly, we don't.

As Golf Digest says, the twists and turns of the case are a bit complex (they're unraveled in more detail in this New York Times story), but it basically comes down to a local prosecutor who was determined to railroad Dixon for the 1991 murder of a 17-year-old, Torriano Jackson, in Buffalo, New York. The conviction involved

shoddy police work, zero physical evidence linking Dixon, conflicting testimony of unreliable witnesses, the videotaped confession to the crime by another man, a public defender who didn't call a witness at trial, and perjury charges against those who said Dixon didn't do it.

Dixon had a prior conviction for selling cocaine, and he made a convenient target for Erie County prosecutor Chris Belling, who was weirdly determined to ignore even statements from the actual killer, LaMarr Scott, who pleaded guilty to the killing shortly before Dixon's release this week.

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