SubscribePoll: Hillary’s Face Spookiest Halloween Mask
We don’t usually post about polls, but given the time of year this one is hard to resist.
From the Associated Press:
Poll: Hillary Clinton’s Face Still the Spookiest as Top-Selling Candidate Halloween Mask
Monday, October 29, 2007
Once again, Hillary Rodham Clinton leads in a poll. This time, she was top choice when people were asked which major 2008 presidential candidate would make the scariest Halloween costume.
Asked about costume choices, 37 percent in an Associated Press-Ipsos survey this month chose New York Sen. Clinton, the front-runner among Democratic presidential contenders. Fourteen percent selected former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani, who leads Republicans in national polls.
No other candidate exceeded 6 percent.
Clinton was the choice of four in 10 men and one-third of women. While a predictable two-thirds of Republicans picked her, she also was the choice of 18 percent of Democrats. Among members of her own party, that made her second only to Giuliani as the scariest costume.
About one-third of independents, nearly half of whites and just over half of conservatives selected her…
But there is hope.
From Investors Business Daily:
Fotofix.com improves Hillary Clinton’s image - literally!
Fotofix.com Improves Hillary Clinton’s Image — Literally
AUSTIN, Texas, Oct 27, 2007 (BUSINESS WIRE) — Call it Cleavage-gate. When photos of Hillary Clinton’s cleavage peeking out of a revealing V-neck made the news, there’s no doubt she would have liked a do-over…
Hillary’s birthday is this weekend, and what woman entering her sixties wouldn’t want to appear a bit more youthful, a little more rested?
Fotofix.com, a new online photo enhancement service, gave a little help to Hillary, and is now bringing professionally styled photos to the people, so that anyone can visually correct unsightly scars, deep wrinkles, uneven skin tone or red eye.
The process has about a 24-hour turnaround-with customers posting photos directly to the site or sending them via email or a cell phone. The photos are then altered at low or no cost to the consumer.
Harnessing the talents of a team of professional photographers and artists, Fotofix.com can glamorize an online profile image, improve a dating picture or even remove an old girlfriend from the frame-something the other Clinton could have certainly employed during his presidency…
Truth to tell, Mrs. Bill Clinton is not that bad looking per se.
It’s just that sometimes her soul shows through.
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October 29th, 2007 at 11:35 am
SOX 4, ROX 3!!!!!! Now I’ve got that off my chest, ahem, from the Archives of AMERICAN PERFECTIONN, the Hillary Clinton Story, HILLAFEST 2007 - Mourning 60 Years of Hillary - kicks off with “Dagwood and Blondie and Hillary too”! Special Guest – “Professor Miracle”!
“Jumal; the tests reveal that you… are NOT the father of Kaneesha’s baby!”
As a jubilant Jumal punched the air in triumph and as Maury tried to get his comforting arm around the massive bulk of a disconsolate Kaneesha, Blondie stood in front of the yammering TV, tapping her foot in irritation.
“How can anyone watch this garbage?” she said quietly. “It shames us all”.
“What’s that, honey?” inquired Dagwood from behind the set, where he was fiddling about with wires and suchlike.
“Nothing. Can I change the channel now?”
“Go ahead. Try to find a channel with Hillary on it”.
“That won’t be hard” said Blondie and, sure enough, one click and there was Hillary, shouting at Regis and Kelly.
“How’s that?”
“Fine, fine. Let’s just jiggle a couple of these wires –ouch! See any difference?”
“The picture still looks funny” said Blondie.
“Hang on, honey. I’m not finished yet” answered Dagwood, fiddling with some more wires. “There. That should do it. What’s it say on the box?”
“’The Amazing HILLA-FILTER ™’ ” read Blondie. “’From RONCO! Only $29.95! Simply install the amazing Hilla-Filter over your regular TV screen to make Hillary Clinton bearable for normal people to look at. Easy to install and operate, with the amazing HILLA-FILTER ™ she’ll almost look human!
*No more kitten-drowning psycho!
*No more shrieking harridan!
* No more potty mouth bossy boots!
*Just a cookie-baking all-American mom who knows what’s best for folks! Guaranteed or your money back. Keep away from children, expectant mothers or pets’”.
“Is it working?”
“Don’t think so. She still seems awfully upset about something. Those teeth…”
“How about now?”
“Now she looks like Eva Peron”.
“And now?”
“She looks Eva Braun, sort of”.
“Hmmm. I was trying for Eva Cassidy but I guess that’s a little better. I’ll set it on ‘Jery Thompson’. How’s that?”
“Nope. No change to her breasts”.
“No improvement, you mean. What’s the matter with this gosh darn thing?”
“Maybe it needs to warm up” suggested Blondie. “Let’s go in the kitchen and you can make yourself one of your giant sandwiches”.
“Okay, honey. Good idea!”
When the Bumsteads returned to the living room, the picture on the screen hadn’t changed at all. There was Hillary Clinton, still stuffed into that beige pants suit, still with her big swollen head like a pumpkin, still pointing her finger and shouting. Hillary’s voice was like metal grinding against metal. Her crazy little eyes blazed with desperate ambition.
“Honey, I’m afraid” said Blondie.
“Me too, sweetheart” said Dagwood. “But you know what’s weird? Everybody in the country must have a Hilla-Filter too and they must all be working fine, otherwise her poll numbers wouldn’t be as high as they are. I think this one’s a lemon. I’m going to take it back”.
“I’m coming with you” said Blondie. “You’re not leaving me on my own with…you know. Her”.
“Darn this stupid thing” –Dagwood gave the TV a kick and suddenly the picture changed. One moment there was Hillary, shouting and snarling, and the next minute there was…someone else.
No one who ever looked into the Hilla-Filter could afterwards fully describe what they’d seen. It was different for everyone; some said it was like the old “Donna Reed Show”. Some said it was like looking at Barbara Eden on “I Dream of Jeannie”. Others were reminded of Mary-Ann from “Gilligan’s Island” while others thought it was “That Girl”, Marlo Thomas. A number mentioned Mary Tyler Moore or that lady from “The Brady Bunch” but all agreed that whatever or whoever they saw was pleasant, cheerful, nice to look at and not even a little bit scary. They liked what they saw so much that when November 4th 2008 came around they knew what they had to do.
…
“It’s a landslide – I’m rich!” shouted Professor Miracle in his basement laboratory. “I’m rich!”
The white-haired scientist, on ‘permanent academic suspension’ from MIT, capered madly amidst the clutter of foaming test tubes, blinking computer screens and cages full of nervous guinea pigs.
”I’m rich! I’m rich! Rich! Rich! Richitty rich rich!”
Upstairs, the front door opened silently.
“I’m rich – hello? Who are you people?”
“Clinton Campaign. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge. This is my associate, Mr Bormann”.
“Servus, Herr” grunted the hulking Bavarian.
“You Professor Miracle?” continued Joe Friday. “Professor Milton Miracle?”
“That’s right”.
“We have a message from the President-elect. She thanks you for your help. Without your invention, the, um, ‘Hilla-Filter’ she’d never have been elected. So - thanks a bunch, Prof”.
“No problem-o. All in the name of science and so on. Now, what about the matter of my fee? According to my calculations and given the astonishing volume of sales, that should be quite an astronomical sum. It’s the hottest thing since ‘Sea Monkeys’ they say”.
“Well, you need to re-think that whole fee thing, Prof. The President-elect’s the kind of gal who’s careful with her dough”.
“Re-think, schmee-think! Forget it! I want my money and I want it now! So hand it over or I go public. Cappeesh?”
“Now, Professor – be reasonable. Don’t make this difficult for everyone”.
“Difficult, schmifficult. I want my –mmmppphhh!”
The chloroform worked quickly and Professor Miracle slumped to the floor. The campaign people rolled him onto his back, folded his hands across his chest, stuck a lily between his fingers and shot the Professor eight times in the head. They stuck a Bloodrock album on the turntable to create the appropriate suicidal atmosphere and then they pinned the usual note to the Professor’s lab coat:
“Date (fill in as appropriate)
To Whom It May Concern:
Hello. How are you today?
I am shooting myself several times in the head due to unknown pressures at work. Hillary Clinton had nothing to do with this terrible tragedy which was completely unforeseen and unexpected. Nothing whatsoever. I never even heard of Hillary Clinton and I never met him.
Yours very truly
(fill in name as appropriate)”
The men wiped their sticky hands on their jackets.
“Zo. Zat’s zat” said Bormann.
“You zaid it. Cross him off the list”.
“Uh huh. Let’s go, Joe. Zere’s anozzer drei pages uf suicides to get done mit today”
“You really want that Secretary of Agriculture job, don’t you?”
“Nicht any more zan du vant to be on der Zupreme Court”.
“Yeah, well; we’d better get cracking unless we want to end up like this guy”.
“Kan’t ve nicht get zomezing to essen first? Ich bin sehr hungry”.
“Oh, okay. I think there’s a Krispy Kreme near here”.
“Ach! For vat do ve vait? Raus, raus – schnell!”
***
October 29th, 2007 at 11:55 am
Great post as usual artboyusa…..with the exception of everything before…..ahem.
October 29th, 2007 at 5:01 pm
It’s just that sometimes her soul shows through.
She has a soul? Funny…I thought vampires were soulless undead creatures…
October 29th, 2007 at 5:50 pm
Just remember, No matter how much a photo is airbrushed or manipulated with software, The face you see in the mirror is yours.
OK, If she is a vampire a mirror is useless, Unfortunately I still see her Goblin shaped melon.
October 29th, 2007 at 8:57 pm
SG , I don’t know how to post links and all that other stuff . Hell , I can barely spell let alone use punctuation properly . If you want a gaggle of grossness , go to our friend at Zombietime , there’s a gallery just for her Royal Total-a$$ . Warning : Do not have food or any adult type beverage in front , or any where near you . It will end up on the floor .
October 29th, 2007 at 9:31 pm
Wirenut, if it’s any help:
If you’re on some site you want to link to, go to the address at the top of the page and left-click on it (the whole address should turn dark blue). Right-click on it and a short menu should appear. (left)Click on “copy”.
Now come back to S&L. (left)Click on where you want the link to appear in your comment (best to ensure it’s on a line by itself). Now right-click and the menu should appear again. This time click on “paste”. The link should appear in your post. The site’s software does the rest.
October 29th, 2007 at 9:49 pm
DW, You can also hit the ctrl+c key combo to copy and the ctrl+v key combo to paste.
The mouse click is easier tho.
October 29th, 2007 at 9:50 pm
Hey , thanks DW ! I haven’t had that many rights and lefts since I drove truck . I’ll practice on lib-sites till I get a handle on it . No use distracting the flow of things here . Sometimes I wish I was born later , than again I’m glad I’m where I’m at . THANKS !
October 29th, 2007 at 9:57 pm
Anytime wirenut.
What little I know, I generally learned here, with either SG or one of the members very patiently explaining things step-by-step for me.
(I’ll stick with the mouse DEZ - hell I had to call for technical assistance just to get the power turned on on this damn thing when I first brought it home)
October 29th, 2007 at 10:01 pm
Understand DW, Just threw it out there in case someone was in need.
And woooo hooo, I get my new rig at work tomorrow!
October 29th, 2007 at 10:03 pm
You getting a new truck DEZ?
October 29th, 2007 at 10:04 pm
LMAO, NOOOOOOO.
A new PC at work, I think that’s the most insulting question I have ever been asked.
October 29th, 2007 at 10:13 pm
DW and DEZ , Again thanks . After stumbling on to this site I realized it was special . The forum , the freedom and the people here make it so . If you can’t learn anything from here , you are a corpse .
October 29th, 2007 at 10:17 pm
“If you can’t learn anything from here , you are a corpse .”
Well, Halloween is just a few days away.
How about we invite trolls on the 31st for a few object lessons.
We can call it S&L Hell.
And Wire, You are welcome.
October 29th, 2007 at 10:20 pm
A new PC at work.
Good grief! I can remember when your rig referred to 75 feet of steel, rubber and glass, with enough chrome to plate a small village. It sat there in the parkinglot of the truckstop, idling in the earlymorning cool, farting greenhouse gasses into the lightening sky at a rate that’d make environmentalists weep with despair while the driver sloshes through the testosterone covering the lot, in his cowboy boots and 12 pound belt buckle, as he mounts up -ready for another 700 miles of Middle America, Garth Brooks and Marlboros.
Now it’s a computer.
…sigh
October 29th, 2007 at 10:26 pm
Ah DW, Sorry my old friend, A computer is also called a rig.
Hell, I can make it make truck sounds when you hit certain keys if that helps.
Trust me it makes my job easier at work to have a good rig at work.
October 29th, 2007 at 10:36 pm
In my day your ” rig ” was to be covered , lest you have parking lot queens , looking for Daddy .
October 29th, 2007 at 10:40 pm
Damn DEZ…..I didn’t intend to insult you. The most ignorant question maybe, but insulting? Sheeez. now where did I put that AR-15?
October 29th, 2007 at 10:43 pm
Well Wire, You cover your rig, Is that called protection?
And I have not much knowledge of trucker lingo, But I think they call the whores lot lizards now.
I just call them whores, LOL.
October 29th, 2007 at 10:51 pm
WI, I think you know me well enough by now that I took nothing as an insult.
So dont pull that girly gun on me.
Nyuck nyuck.
October 29th, 2007 at 10:58 pm
LOL…..girly gun was for the “lot lizards”.
October 29th, 2007 at 10:59 pm
Damn DEZ , GOOD IDEA . Instead of candy we’ll throw out free health care , tax increases ,and micro-managing a war . The first one that sticks their hand in gets the ” 1st ” and ” SJ ” prize . Bobbing for traitors is after dark .
October 29th, 2007 at 11:12 pm
DEZ , COIN OPERATED WOMEN . Not whatever queens means today . Not the pickle park type myself. LOL.
October 29th, 2007 at 11:17 pm
My mistake WI.
Most lot lizards only take one round at a time.
October 29th, 2007 at 11:34 pm
Dez…I think I’ve mentioned before here….I have never learned to shoot straight. I’m very dangerous…..to the good guys.
October 30th, 2007 at 12:24 pm
HILLATHON 2007, mourning 60 years of Hillary, continues with another offering from the AMERICAN PERFECTIONN Arrchives. This time its…THE CONSERVATIVE, the last Right-Winger in America, now a hunted fugitive from the Hillary Terror, returns for another drama-drenched episode!
Tonight’s Episode: “Destination…Danger”!
As the cab neared Mohammed Atta International (formerly Logan) Airport the Conservative looked back at the America from which he would soon, Reagan willing, escape.
He sighed heavily. This beautiful, wonderful country. How he loved her and how much it hurt him to flee, but for him there was no choice: it was either a desperate flight into the unknown or the horror of “re-education” at Camp Tookie.
Snatches of half-remembered songs echoed in his mind. “From sea to shining sea”…”This land is your land, this land is my land”…”from the Halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli”…emotive images of rippling flags, golden eagles, Mount Rushmore, towering redwood forests and mighty rivers, Little League baseball and Mom’s apple pie cooling on the window sill – you get the picture, kinda like a Fox News trailer - flashed before him.
A tear stung his eye and the Conservative brushed it away clumsily.
“Are you alright, infidel dog?” inquired the cabbie, whose dashboard ID gave his name as Akbar Abu Jihad.
“Yeah” muttered the Conservative. “I’m fine. Just fine”.
“Okay, son of a pig”.
The cab dropped him at International Departures. He passed the jeering Muslim cabbies turning away confused passengers for carrying liquor or being women or being blind: “Shoo, infidels. Shoo!” they cried. They could carry whoever they wanted now, thanks to the Fair Choices in Transportation Act of 2008.
There was a cluster of forlorn, white-stick carrying figures turning in hesitant, tapping circles and some hungry-looking dogs, tied to the railings and abandoned. In a corner was piled enough discarded liquor to supply a dozen Dick Cheney quail shoots.
In the terminal the Conservative checked his disguise –the rubber nose and moustache and the thick black glasses made him look like a cross between Groucho and the late Kurt Vonnegut, the novelist who taught generations of high school kids that it didn’t matter which side won World War II – and he looked once more at the fake documents supplied by the Underground Railroad. “Lee Harvey Libstein” that’s my new name, he thought. Gotta remember…
“Destination?”
“Australia”.
“Did you pack your bags yourself?”
“Um, yeah. Sure. Why not?” The Conservative patted his tattered bindlestiff.
“Okay. Have a nice flight, Mr Libstein”.
“Huh? Who? Oh, yeah –right. Thanks”.
Clutching his shoes in one hand, the Conservative joined the long, shuffling line of barefooted passengers. Security staff herded the unprotesting sheeple through a series of gates, checkpoints, tunnels, rope ladders, water obstacles and jungle gyms. Those new security regs are really starting to take hold, he thought. Too bad they’re only for people who want to leave the country.
“Attention, Passengers” boomed the PA. “The New Department of Homeland Security has announced that today’s Alert Level is…Orange. I repeat, Orange. Maintain vigilance. Operation Houseclean continues. There are still dangerous Conservative elements at large in our progressive society. Be wary! Be alert to any suspicious behaviour and report your concerns to the nearest officer. That is all”.
Shuffle, shuffle; the line inched slowly forward. Up ahead in the Departure Area, the Conservative spotted a group of long-bearded imams, conducting loud and protracted prayer, while white faced passengers shrank away and sought to comfort their trembling children and womenfolk. Oblivious State Troopers lunged against the wall, chewing gum. The One True Faith Act of 2008 made it illegal for them to interfere with non-Christian religious expression in any form.
“Please! You gotta do something!” urged one desperate man but the Trooper only shook his head.
Shuffle, shuffle. The Conservative looked around him. “Hola! Amigos!” he read on the big, colourful posters. “Bienvenidos al Estados Unidos!” said a grinning, sombrero wearing Uncle Sam. Underneath, the text offered directions in three languages (English, Spanish and the colorful pictograms of Nahuatl) to the nearest welfare office and to the local Democratic Party headquarters.
What was the point of that, wondered the Conservative. It’s not like any other options existed; the Joined Up Government Act had abolished all the other parties months ago.
Attached to the poster were some of those little tear off cards, again in three languages: “Completion of this card certifies that (fill in your name here) of (fill in your address here: optional) is now a CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA and fully ENTITLED to all and every social, medical and political benefit but EXEMPT from all and every obligation to his / her (delete as appropriate) new homeland. Welcome to the USA! It’s a great place to be!”
Not many of those left, noted the Conservative. Going like hotcakes.
The TVs overhead were playing a continuous loop of highlights from President Clinton’s speeches. Hillary’s big, angry face filled the screens:
“And to our misguided opponents I say ‘work hard and you will be free’. To our followers I say ‘Come unto me’. Let us build together a new America, an America of which, at last, no compassionate, progressive person need ever feel ashamed –no! Not like it was before; a nice one, full of nice people just like us!”
The camera panned around to show the multitudes that filled Madison Square Garden and their eager, shining faces. Some wept with joy, some held babies aloft, some threw flowers, but all were cheering and shouting. President Hillary snapped her fingers for silence and continued:
“The new America, which I shall call “New America”, or perhaps “Hillaryland”, will be like a mother to all good Americans; a mother who knows best, a strict but fair parent, not afraid to administer correction when required or stern discipline when it’s needed. A mother who will spank you when you’ve been naughty and send you to your room without your supper; who will wash your mouth out with soap or lock you in a closet or whip you with a fan belt if she has to!”
She paused to let the applause peak and die away.
“A mother who only does it because you make her do it because you’re so dirty and disobedient and bad. A mother who’s work is never done. It’s for your own good and it hurts me more than it does you. Someday you’ll thank me…”
The Conservative tried to block out her voice but it was no good. “…a mother who will care for her children and sustain them, a big, warm-blooded mammal of a mom at whose generous paps an entire hungry nation may suckle”.
Hillary lifted her chest with both hands and looked straight into the camera. “Suckle, America…suckle. That’s an order!”
Shuffle, shuffle. Heads down. “No talking!” barked the guards. “Listen to the President!”
“… a new America of compassion and dignity – or else!” Hillary shouted. “A new America of decency and respect – or else! A new America which cares for all of her people and plenty of everyone else’s too –or else! A new America for all of us and people like us and if, despite all Mother’s best efforts and after all she’s done for you, you still disappoint her, well, then I’ll crush you like a fucking bug. Like a bug, I say! You think I’m kidding? You think I’m fooling? Well, you’ll see! Wait till you’re older! YOU’LL SEE!”
“Applaud the President, damn you!” ordered a guard and everyone dutifully clapped for a minute or two. “I didn’t say stop! No one told you to stop!” he roared and a new wave of frantic applause erupted and this time it went on and on. Five minutes, ten…the clapping faltered…the guard glared angrily around and the clapping renewed, less loud but steady. The Conservative’s arms ached, his hands hurt but, like all the others, he kept clapping. “That’s it, keep it up” encouraged the guard. “Show how much you love the Perfectt Leader”.
Shuffle, shuffle. Clap, clap. Another checkpoint coming up. Lotta guards up there, thought the Conservative. Keep clapping. He gave his rubber Groucho nose a reassuring squeeze but still he could feel the sweat pouring off him. It was gonna be close…
“Hey - you! Hold it! Hold it right there, bub!” commanded one of the guards. The Conservative froze in his barefoot tracks…
Gee, I wonder what that guard wants? Find out next time on… “THE CONSERVATIVE”!