Speculative Friction
“Taking actual events and mining them just to provide that special itch that irrational Reich Wingers can’t scratch.”

Actual event (Thanks to News of the Weird)

“The Nebraska legislature’s new ‘safe haven” law for unwanted babies, like other state laws allows them to be dropped off anonymously at hospitals to discourage abortions (and neglect by unfit parents). However, unlike other states’ laws, Nebraska’s applies not just to infants, but “minors” because, said Senator Tom White, “All children deserve our protection.” In September the first two non-infants were abandoned, as exasperated parents gave up on rebellious sons aged 11 and 15, and critics say the law could apply to those up to age 19.”

Speculation…

The Palin girl put down her bags and sighed. “Pregnant again.” The nurse said, “Don’t worry honey, your mother was given up and lived here too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, dear, and it appears we should never have let her go. We’ve had a lot of infamous children here.”

“Like who?”

“Well, there was Crankypants McSame who looked old at 10 and always yelled ‘get off my lawn’ out the window at no one, really.”

“And…”

“Every talk show host on Reich Wing radio. Dimbulb damn near ate us out of business. Handjob Hannity has always been a egomaniac, small minded, twerp… even back then. Michael So Savage (with a lisp) has always been nothing but a big Weiner who would beat up a baby for fun and that room…”

“Why it’s got rubber walls, bite marks and blood everywhere!”

“Yes, that’s where we held Biggus Dickus after we cleaned up the fecal matter strewn all over it by it’s former resident, Junior.”

“The President was here?”

“Yeah, our biggest failure has now qualified as the biggest failure in human history. We had to let him go wild. He lived on the street and ate puppies and kittens; tried to ‘comb’ his hair with locusts.”

“But why did you have to let him go?”

“Because no one with any common sense is stupid enough to go anywhere near a homicidal, ignorant, smug, smirky egomaniac who claims God tells him to act that way.”

“Anyone else?”

“Many, but if you want to get along here, don’t mention Junior’s mother.”

“Why.”

“It was like having a real stinky monster under our beds, only uglier, nastier, bigger forked tongue, smellier and, oh we were so glad when Junior’s father ‘adopted’ her. Just wish we had given her her rabies shots before she got out.”

Scribe’s Curious Question of the Week
“Questioning what others rarely dare to.”

“Why is it that if racist animals could join the KKK, most of them would be dogs?”

Ye Olde Scribe Productions Presents: A “Pleasant” Afternoon’s Drive with Moosemeat Mama

Ye Olde Scribe’s spy-flies on the wall have been off the wall for a while… would you expect anything else than “off the wall?” It’s been a busy season. So many windshields to splatter! So many birds to avoid giving really bad indigestion to! And so many calls to intercept!

One of Scribe’s spies was flying over the Moosemeat Mama’s limo and intercepted the following phone call to a fellow ditz in Alaska:

(Sound of “talk” like adults talk in Peanuts.)

Yeah, I’m drivin and talking ta ya, Liz. Me, the soon ta be VP by gosh by gollywads, will be drivin da nation soon. Dey wanted some crappy elitist “chauffeur” to do it, but I show dem what ta show fur…. ha, ha… I kill myself. (smile and a wink) Wadda ya mean some people wish I would. Oh, I get it. (She obviously doesn’t) “Chauffeur?” Sounds like some pansyass Frenchie ding to me, you know… the ones I see just beyond Putkin-y-kinkin in Moscow owt my bacKdoor? Oops, der there goes anodur kitten crossin da road. Der, got it! Oh by bolybumkins, dis is so exciting, like hunting, only with a limo! Heli-e-copting wolves ain’t got nothing on dis! (wink) Mr. Secret Service man, can you get one of you’re fellow hunks ta pick up dat puppy and add it ta my hubbie’s “Achilles kills me” brand roadkill cooler? (smile and a wink)

(Sound of screaming.)

(More sound of “talk” like adults talk in Peanuts.)

Oh, youse right, sweetiekums, I thought dese SS men were supposed ta be sooooooo virile. (Winks then whispers….) They’re wooooooosies! Well Liz, what did ya think of dat Dahbate? Oops, I dropped mi lipstick again…

(More sound of “talk” like adults talk in Peanuts, more screams: sound of doors starting to open.)

OK, OK. I’m pro-Life and I just ran over a baby carriage, don’t you lecture ME, Mr. SS man. We’re in a blue state. It’s not like der human, or der going be allowed ta vote for me, or anything like dat. It’s not like they have rights or sumthin. Aven’t you heard of a leaders right ta do damn near anyting ta da little people? No? What, never erd of Haveus a Corpsus? Give us the right to kill anything or anyone. Geesh, go back to Secret Service school and learn somedin why doncha?

Now get on your headset thingies there and have some black sooties add dat baby to the coolers too. (Wink then whisper.) Yeah, Lizzikins, I’m sure I’ll convince dese nits I’m just like them… (Louder) Golly willikers, Mr. Secret Service man, I’m on da phone, don’t interrupt me, I’ll forget my talking points I’m tryin ta memorize. No, I don’t care ta “learn” how this round wheelie thing in front of me “works.” If it’s not working right we just gotta “fix” OK? Oh, now someun else is calling. I’m sorry, Liz, incoming…

Mom, I’m pregnant again.

Yopugodamnmodurfuckinlittleslut, cancha keep your legs closed fur five seconds, or go off and have it sump pumped out without tellin me or someding? Couldn’t ya jump up and down to shake da little wiggles out of ya like I told ya ta do? Just go get the huge dirty plunger from da outhouse for suckin out the overspill, for criminy bimini’s sake I’m tryin ta do an election here! You’ll hafta tell Daddy when ya see im.

When he sneaks into my beds late at night? It is HIS baby….

Oh, now ya sound like one of dose whiney liberals. Well, like Daddy at night, change is cuming. (giggle and a snort) We’ll talk when I get home and, no, I don’t know when, and doncha be a smartypants n ask what century dat would be like ya did last phone call. I don’t need ta think of ya. Didn’t you hear me say I told dat old fart ‘yes’ without even thinking?Why should I “think” bout you instead of campaigning like some responsible Mom or something? Uh, like yeah, dats what being a “maverick” is all about, don’t cha know? (smile and a wink)

But, Mom, I’m snowed in, there’s a lot of scratching and howling at the door, we’re out of food…

There ya go again askin for food ta eat so you and da little ones won’t starve again. After da campaign, I’ll… bring… it… to… ya. (wink, wink, wink)

(She laughs at her “wit” and switches the cell to the call on hold as; in the background, you hear a door caving in and the sound of ravenous wolves eating.)

OK, Liz, I’m back. just my little snot of a bratty kid. Uh, oh, where are all my hunky SS men? What are all dose black thingies in my rear and side view mirors? Why are all the limo car doors open? Well, Lizikins, gotta hang up now, ya hear? Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. More to add ta hubbie’s roadkill cooler! Life’s good! Will get even better when the old fart keels over two weeks into my administration! (wink, wink, wink, wink, wink, wink, wink, wink, wink, wink, wink, wink) See ya sweetie!

(Scribe’s comment: “Every time she speaks and winks Scribe understands why she refers to herself as a ‘sock her girl.’ Scribe would be surprised if that hasn’t happened more than once. He guesses her hubbie plays rock em’ and sock em’ robots a lot, only he doesn’t need ‘robots.’ She LIKES it.”)

Next week: stay tuned… John McSame upgrades his VP choice to a better example of motherhood: BRITNEY SPEARS.