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Letter From Wonkette: She Is Not Charlotte Simmons

Wonkette herself—who, the attentive of you will remember, is on a leave of absence to write her book this month—checks in from her liquor-laden bunker:


Dear Choire:

Greetings from my undisclosed location. Cheney says "hi" (and wants his copy of "Ass Master" back!). Thought I'd write in about this Drudge-sized brouhaha regarding "I Am Charlotte Simmons" being on the White House reading list. First of all, when I see "beer- and sex-soaked" and "Bush" in the same sentence, I want it to be from an article in the new Barely Legal, not about our president's reading habits. Second, Bumiller is totally high. As usual.

Bumiller, ever-desperate to sound like she's knows something we don't (omg, did you see that Sunday Styles piece?!?), implies that the WH has been cagey about Bush's reading of the Wolfe book. As they say in the WH press corps: Riiiiiiight. Around town, White House aides have all but taken out billboards about this show of intellectual adventurousness, and it's about as believable as the time they said he was reading "Crime and Punishment." Of course, the occasion for that little toe-dip into nihilism was Bush's trip to Russia. As for why they would say he's reading "Charlotte Simmons," well. . . he has been wanting to understand the twins a little better. . .

For my part, I'm really getting into this "novel" thing. Turns out I can make shit up for the entire book and no one can sue or anything!

Kisses,

Wonkette

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It's the night before the two-night Democratic primary debate extravaganza, and we're already tired. Turns out having 20 candidates spread across two nights when only six or eight of them matter is not the must-see TV we all thought it was going to be! But that's not to dissuade you from getting excited! We're excited! We're so excited! We're so ...

Giphy

SCARED!

In case you need a reminder, here is how it's going to go down:

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Lately he's been blowing smoke from another orifice.

After a cursory examination of the TWELVE filings in the case against California Congressman Duncan Hunter just in the past 24 hours, we can confidently declare that that guy is a fucking idiot. The prosecutors have him by every last one of his short and curlies -- which is what happens when you use your campaign credit card to pay for hundreds of thousands of dollars of ski trips, video games, tuition, and plane tickets for the family rabbit.

A rational human being would have pleaded down a year ago and given up his congressional seat, since he could cash out and make a lot more money as a lobbyist anyway. But not Duncan Hunter! He made the federal government chase him down and document every last carton of cigarettes, round of tequila, and Uber ride of shame home from his many girlfriends' houses in a 60-count indictment filed last August. And still this dumb sumbitch refused to admit he was caught, even after his lovely wife (and co-conspirator) Margaret Hunter flipped on him this month -- which is what happens when you use your campaign credit card to carry on multiple affairs and you piss off the US Attorneys enough that they put every 7 a.m. Uber ride in your indictment.

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