The Nation, a magazine I read after I eat lots of chili and happen to be at someone’s house with a big magazine rack near the crapper, recently published a vicious smear piece about my best friend Karl Rove. The title is “Karl Rove’s Black Love Child,” which is just silly. To have a love child, as I understand it, a person has to have sex, and Karl doesn’t, unless you count hand sex with himself.
I was so confused that I reread the article, and it seems to be about me and John McCain, and how I supposedly did something not-very-nice to him in the 2000 South Carolina primary and then became President. Supposedly, Karl made some people call some voters and ask them if they would vote for McCain if they knew that he had illegitimately fathered a black child, which would have maybe confused them, since he and his wife had just adopted a girl from Bangladesh. (She is a teenager now, and probably hot — I know I’m not supposed to say that, which is why I put it in parentheses, which makes it invisible.)
I have several responses to this outrageous piece of hit journalism. First of all, losers weepers. Second of all, McLame (as I like to call him) has a chance to become president this year. So what’s the big deal, crybaby? Maybe you should take your (hot) (black) daughter should go to a (black-themed) amusement park and lighten up (black-girl-adopter!).