Saturday, May 25, 2002

This is a very strange Ann Coulter column:

If I were a former president, I would waste less time worrying about genocidal maniacs in places like East Timor and focus my concern on interior decorators in West Hollywood. Let’s shed the shackles of political correctness and lay it on the line: America has gone queer. You know that this country is headed to Hell in a hand basket when the most masculine member of the United States House of Representatives is Barney Frank. A single conservative female living in Washington, D.C., has about as much chance of meeting a rock ribbed Republican heterosexual male as a Gentile has of becoming chairman of the Federal Reserve.

It should not be a mystery why there is absolutely no unit cohesion in the G.O.P. caucus. Thank God conservative politicians don’t vote the way they choose to live, or the Speaker of the House would be RuPaul.

I’m lonely, dammit, but I’m not willing to date commies who buy into that “freedom and justice for all” garbage. The only thing about my man that I want to be red is his neck. If Carter can develop a little pill that makes Tom DeLay or Dick Armey turn off the Judy Garland music and ask me out, then he will have finally done something socially relevant.