It was the wink that stopped the train running through my brain syncing psychosis with Robo-Palin’s mind chip induced boilerplate in front of a moderator too blue to take control of the run- away Terminator to be.

The fact she wants more power in the Senate directly violates the Constitution doesn’t matter to the millionaire Joe Six Pack Fembot . And neither Biden or Palin would admit to theAmerican people that winning anything in Afghanistan besides more misery like the depression already haunting us is the only end game we have. Ask the Soviets. Ask any army in the short history of human beings how much fun battling Afghani hillbillies can be.

But it was the wink. The sly, QVC deal of the week wink that made my eyeballs pop. What was that? What was the wink all about? Did you feel that? To me it was weird and corny? Did it remind you of a guy with a slick moustache dressed in a pink striped suit selling sea monkeys?

I’m going for the sea monkeys guy. Or the cigarette worn down woman with the microphone wrapped around her head demonstrating vegetable Genie’s at the Home Show.

I’ll never forget the wink. Sarah the Fembot hypnotized me with that riverboat gamblin’ man wink letting all of us know the game being played out on the green felt on the rickety table you’re sitting at is fixed.

The game is fixed.

But then again, we didn’t need the wink to turn us on to that slim witted bit of sudden realization and golden consciousness. We know the game is fixed. The wink was condescending. Condescension wrapped in a neck baring hairdo purposely done up to attract morons who never get laid from paying any attention to the siren song of propaganda winging it from her Chanel lacquered lips.

The wink stopped me cold.

I still feel chilly.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 3rd, 2008 at 6:04 am and is filed under Stuff I know. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.