11/7 Changed Everything. We're Now Living In A Post-11/7 World. Let's Get Rid Of The Pre-11/7 Thinking!

Twisty explains what living in a Post-11/7 world is like:


[I]n the agreeable wake of the midterm elections, I feel exactly the same way that I did when I escaped the the Gateway City and learned that life did not have to be lived beneath a subumbra of persistent personal peril. A pestilential gloom the debilitating extent of which I had only the vaguest pre-election inkling has, I am delighted and somewhat surprised to report, been ameliorated by the exceedingly pleasant turn of recent political events.

In other words, I had no idea how chapped my hide had really been for the 6 years that W and the Godbag Killers’ Coalition were the Champions of the World until I heard the words “Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House of Representatives”* emerge like dewy unicorn rosepetal sundrops from my clock radio on Wednesday morning.

I’m not saying that I won’t continue to suffer post-traumatic stress. There are two more years of W, and anyway, let’s face it: if my fellow Americans ever take to nurturing — in the comforting, legislative way that honky male Christians take for granted — the interests of the radical feminist lesbian atheist spinster aunt, I’ll eat my mouldering garbage bag of sports bras. But I’m not exaggerating when I say that I sprang from the Twisty Tempurpedic and did a little whoopty-dance when I heard that the odious maggot Jim Tallent had been smushed like a slimy, oozy rotten-log-inhabiting invertebrate by Democrat Claire McCaskill in the Missouri Senate race. You go girl!
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* But could you believe fucking W, in the press conference where he knifed Rumsfeld, when he made that lame “joke” about decorating tips for Pelosi’s new office? I noticed he didn’t have an opinion on interior design for Rumsfeld’s replacement. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that Pelosi, as a woman, should first and foremost concern herself with drapes. My god, what a knob.


Well, gee, Twisty, W is the guy who goes on and on and on about the carpet in the freaking oval office that Pickles "designed."