So today’s my birthday. And what did I wish for first thing? That God would make me happy, and that I’d be able to share that happiness with my friends.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m going to talk about Jack Abramoff’s plea, don’t you? Well, you’re wrong. Abramoff coming clean about his nauseating, bottomless greed didn’t bring a smile to my face. He’s sickening. The politicians he pimped his clients to are disgusting. Oh, and he’s the ultimate shonde for the goyim. Screw him.
No, what’s made me happy today, if by "happy" you mean wallowing hip-deep in a warm pool of schadenfreude, is this story. Why? Because I KNOW HER. I used to work with her crazy ass. And because even before she was sabotaging interviews by moving cameras, or threatening WaPo reporters to defend her then-boss Tom DeLay, she was an insane junior staffer at ABC News in Washington. Even then one could see the woman the girl was bound to become: thin-skinned, vindictive, quick to anger.
And now look. The the loose lips of a woman scorned, who acted as a human shield between Tom DeLay and the press, could now prove to be his downfall.
It doesn’t get much better than this, Washington-wise.
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Happy Birthday to Me