Celebr'OD, The Gist »

Christine O’Donnell’s Troublemaker: Let’s Do What It Takes to Make America Great Again is in her words “a political memoir slash campaign diary slash position paper slash rallying cry with an emphasis on the slash.” [Source] Glad to see she is still entrusting her messaging and PR to whoever drugged and ass-raped she and John Huntsman into agreeing to the worst ideas ever for commercials next to satanic sheep, but give it time. Those sheep will be sacrificed for Jesus and the tea party in prayers that she stars with Ginny Thomas in a TeaTV sitcom as a subservient mother and daughter bickering on housework and recipes all while trying to snag that one good widowered Promise Keeper played by Kirk Cameron or Willie Ames by opening up a scrap-booking franchise in the local strip mall where she lays her palms on the bunions and callouses of the Friendly’s servers during the lunch rush…for trade of course. She will always emphasize the “slash” because she is all “slash;” A malleable chasm waiting to shapeshift to whatever answer, soundbite, or man who gets her the most applause on the faith-o-meter and feeds her incessant need to hydro-platitude her broom into any highway divide of ideas, her DUFs carnage in her wake as she waves “Sorry.”

Christine O’Donnell might have been the girl in high school that would say anything to get four minutes of debate team with her Kids for Christ Witnessing No Protection Street Theatre Troupe and Show Choir…available for Bar Mitzvahs too because they’re praying for you. She most likely hijacked her graduation ceremony with a guerrilla prayer to protest separation of church and state’s trampling of her Christian brothers and sisters’ right to speak in tongues to the majority while other faiths can mouth along. She also might have been the self proclaimed high school salutatorian by her own proxy at large.

She is pro-life and some would say embraces the Culture of Life, in her case an imaginary one in which she is entitled to freeload off of the political bottom-feeding system while financially breaking herself and contributors with her own brand of snake oil that allows her to freeze her face in that perpetual photo-op of flitty flabbergast that she perfected when being awarded ANYTHING shiny from a smarmy judge who wanted to stick his ancient, Ed McMahonish penis inside of her.
Her Julia Roberts Go-To whinny is wide-eyed “I can’t believe I won the Mary Kay Award for this region after I started the contest” face…but to meet her in person is probably really amazing. She has a really good energy, I’m sure.

She is the unfortunately not the last bastion of girls who must have been part of a radical religious chemical experiment in the 1970’s when communion wafers were filled with unusually high levels of lead based MSG damaging the brain receptors effecting self image and torrid ambition. Oh, and the body of Christ too. The result is thalidomide with 16 bars of an Amy Grant derge and a rosary mic. Her solo of Michael W. Smith’s Friends lost out because one of her backup coven didn’t realize the acoustic bounce off the pentagram might mess up their harmonies. They were THIS close.

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