What is it about the Republican presidential- and vice presidential contenders that they sire and celebrate the most brazen of tarts as daughters?
I am referring to the clone of a woman whose genetic material should not be replicated. The clone is Elizabeth Huntsman, daughter/dominatrix to Jon Huntsman. The real McCoy is Meghaaaann McCain. IQ-wise, the Huntsman valley girl, whose voice also sounds as though it has been squeezed from the other end of her anatomy (to use a Greg-Gutfeld analogy I’ve refined)—is better endowed, no doubt. Meghaaan is mega-dense.
Otherwise, the two females share more than puffy, painted mugs, and the extra pounds they carry with such in-you-face, “You-go-girl” pride. (“I’m like, a real womaaaan.”)
Meghan is still the greatest ditz to date to emerge from that big tent that Republicans keep touting. But in contemporary America, where youth is imbued with mythical qualities, and Rousseau’s Noble Savage is applied to small savages—both E. Huntsman and M. McCain are destined for “greatness.”
Huntsman’s other two daughters, Abigail and Maryann, are rather refined, lovely young ladies, And they don’t need a voice coach either. Their propensity for mind-numbing political banalities is another matter entirely.
The new “Jon” on the block (as opposed to the old political pimp, John McCain) doesn’t look good when he lets a tasteless tartlet p–sy whip him in public.