Thursday, January 18, 2007

Poor LIttle Katie

















Holy crap! Do they let just any no-talent, witless, garbage-writing loser have a blog now?
Huh?
Oh, yeah.
Shut up. I mean besides me.
Heh.

January 17, 2007
Katie: A Woman At The Table
One week ago, Katie sat down for a briefing at the White House, and noticed something unusual.
Yeah, she noticed she had no business being there because she is a biased hack with crappy ratings.
Speak, 'o' mistress of all that is good and right...

Last Wednesday, President Bush gave his address to the country about “the new way forward” for Iraq, and lots of journalists—including me, of course [BECAUSE I'M SPECIAL!!]—were in Washington to cover it. But before the Big Speech, there was the little-known Big Meeting.
I certainly hope Katie's Big Head fit through the door.

The White House invited all the network anchors, and some cable anchors [Ewww!], along with the Sunday political show hosts to a meeting with unnamed VERY senior administration officials.
[Revision: I'M EXTRA SPECIAL! V-I-P!!]

(Obviously I know their names, but the agreement was that in order to attend the meeting, we couldn’t reveal the people who spoke to us.)

Refer to "I'm special!" comments here.

And even though I’ve been in this business for more years than I’d like to admit, and interviewed countless Presidents and world leaders [Have I mentioned I'm special?], it’s still thrilling—and even a little awe-inspiring—to get “briefed” at the White House, no matter who is sitting in the Oval Office.

Gosh, Katie, be honest. Instead of saying "no matter who..." say, "even if there's an insipid, moronic, warmongering, capitalistic Chimpmander-in-Chief in the Oval Office".
No bias here folks, move along now...

And yet, the meeting was a little disconcerting as well.
Because I'm a shallow, partisan hack in the same room with the classy and very talented Brit Hume.

As I was looking at my colleagues around the room—Charlie Gibson, George Stephanopoulos, Brian Williams, Tim Russert, Bob Schieffer, Wolf Blitzer, and Brit Hume—I couldn’t help but notice, despite how far we’ve come, that I was still the only woman there.

EEEEEK! PENII !!!

Well, there was some female support staff near the door.

The poor, hapless, patriarchally oppressed fools.

But of the people at the table, the “principals” in the meeting, I was the only one wearing a skirt.
Look at me!! I'm so unconventional, yet down to earth at the same time!
Just like the little people. Little people that wear Pravda.

Everyone was gracious [Really? I'm shocked!], though the jocular atmosphere was palpable.
joc·u·lar (jŏk'yə-lər)
adj.
1. Characterized by joking.
2. Given to joking.

So everyone was gracious and joking and playful and friendly?
THOSE BASTARDS!!! However did you endure, poor Katie??!?!?!?
You should sue. Hate crime, discrimination, penis envy...
Maybe she thinks jocularity has something to do with jocks.

The feminist movement that began in the 1970’s helped women make tremendous strides
Yep! You're almost equal to men in suicides, gang memberships, having many bastard children, cancer and heart disease, incarceration rates, violent deaths, mental illness and chemical dependency. You've come a long way, baby.

—but there still haven’t been enough great leaps for womankind.
Oh, if only there were more super-important women like me...
You've got Skeletor Pelosi and Danica. What else do you want, hon?
Lighten up.


Fifty-one percent of America is female, but women make up only about sixteen percent of Congress
Maybe less women run for office because they want to raise children (and God bless 'em). Any stats to back your assertions up, or are you just talking out of your wide ass?
Get some women more people will vote for. Problem solved.


—which, as the Washington Monthly recently pointed out, is better than it’s ever been...but still not as good as parliaments in Rwanda (forty-nine percent women) or Sweden (forty-seven percent women).
Oh puhlease, let us be more like Rwanda! Do you own a machete, Katie?
What's their GDP again?

And Sweden?
Where is my mandatory government issued machine gun, Katie?
Get us all one of those, then we'll talk.

Only nine Fortune 500 companies have women as CEO’s.
Which ones are they? I'm going to boycott them just for spite, you stupid b**ch.
How many were there 25 years ago?

That meeting was a reality check for me—and not just about Iraq.
And of course, I have a perfect grasp of reality.
All rabidly left-wing, socialist millionaires do.

It was a reminder that all of us still have an obligation to ask: Don’t more women deserve a place at the table too?
Yeah, servin' me taters and steer!!!
(Just kidding honey! Heh. Mrs.b rocks.)

I think pampered, American, white Katie should be fired and replaced with a blind, crippled, non-English-speaking, Oriental midget Muslim pedophile.
That'll show 'em! Diversity rocks!
I'm surprised Katie hasn't blamed her lame ratings on misogyny and sexism.
But that may be hard when men AND women are tuning out in droves.

Posted by Katie Couric at 9:14 AM : January 17, 2007
Lord, I know it's wrong to hate, but how about REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY DISLIKING A STUPID &^%&^%!!!?!?!?!?

Let's put it this way, Katie - You ain't no Laurie Dhue,




















and you are certainly no Ann Coulter,













nor are you a Mellisa Theareau.



















Of which two out of the three I actually respect for their journalistic talents; the other one I can't understand when she speaks, but still has important attributes of a solid news journalist babe.

You see, dear Kate, I have no problem with women. My wife is smarter and more talented than I shall ever be. (I love that about her.)
I just like to goad shrill, retarded feminists.

I don't eschew your show because your a woman. Indeed, I don't watch because you are a tantrum-prone, uber-rich, elitist-snob, anti-gun, pro-death moonbat, hell-bent on controlling my life.

We're not married, and you're not my mom, so controlling me isn't your freakin' job.
(Although, I will consider giving in to your demands for half of your assets, however - I hate you, but I'm not an idiot.)

Now go make me a sammich.