Happy Birthday Pat Robertson, You Are Not Dead!
Pat Robertson had a birthday on Sunday, and there was a party! It was a very nice party, and just like all balls-out birthday benders do, it had a keynote speaker named Dr. Ben Carson. (Yes, THAT Dr. Ben Carson.) The doctor said many nice words about America's Jesus Grandpa, like how he is so positive about everything, as opposed to the negative people (GAYS). Also making an appearance in this here commemorative video is the booby-draper himself, former Secretary of State John Ashcroft. Luckily, he didn't have to drape any boobies at Robertson's party, they came pre-draped! Ashcroft said, and we quote, that he doesn't want Pat Robertson to stop using his voice, because "America needs it, and I needs it."
Donald Trump was nice enough to make Pat Robertson a birthday video, but Benjamin Netanyahu couldn't even be bothered to Skype in, instead just sending a boring birthday card he probably picked up at Walgreens at the last minute.
Then it was time for the big birthday present, which was a replica of the president's desk, since Pat Robertson is never going to actually get to use the real president's desk, due to There Is A Muslim In The White House. Look how excited he is, though!
Okay, we take it back, this looks like a total loser party. We are hoping that after they stopped rolling tape, a whiskey-drunk Phyllis Schlafly bent Robertson over and gave him his 85 birthday spankings, and then Robertson and Ben Carson did like so many shots and laughed about how fast they'd turn gay for each other if they had to go to jail together.
Pat Robertson was incarnated into his current human-esque form on March 22, 1930. It was the Chinese Year Of The Horse, which explains why much of his advice is, appropriately, horseshit. Like most Spirit Guides, his true age is unknown, but we'll just say he's 85 now. Like Ashcroft said, America truly does need his voice, like right here, as he laughs to himself about how neat it would be if Ronald Reagan would rise from the dead. Maybe, instead of a dumb desk, they should have given him a good old-fashioned corpse-raising for his birthday. After all, WWJD?
If not for Pat Robertson, we also would not know that you really should quit your job if you work with a buncha dirty Buddhists; that not just any old snake-handler can exorcise the demons out of you, they need to be Pat Robertson-approved snake-handlers; that drug-smoking reefer people are addicted to vegetables, and vegetables are NOT GODLY; that yoga is fine if you're just doing the stretchy parts, but NOT fine when you accidentally speak the Hindu; and that witches have cursed your baby's ultrasounds, because you have put them on Facebook.
Oh, and that time he said that if dudes do the dishes, their wives should get ready for a good fuckin', because the dude EARNED IT. We would be lost without Pat Robertson's wisdom and guidance, and we'd probably still be gay.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAT, here's to another 85 years (or another however many years old you REALLY are, you ancient demon, you). Wonkette will see you soon, when we decide to start sending our own questions in to The 700 Club.