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..............................BartCop
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Quotes
"The stock market goes up, the stock
market goes down."
-- Paul O'Neill, Smirk's boy at Treasury.
What Secretary O'Neil said is true.
The stock market goes up when Clinton is president,
and it goes down when America has President Brain Fart forced
on them.
Lady Judas
I didn't get her name, dammit, but Saturday night I saw a lady
(black, 50-ish, attractive, professional)
who Fox News labeled "former press secretary to Jesse Jackson"
stab him in the back repeatedly.
I'm making a bit of a leap there, because as smart and savvy as
this lady seemed, she surely knew
what she was doing when she twisted that knife in Jesse's back.
Who do democrats keep having
this problem with traitors, cowards and turncoats?
She basically agreed with every wild-ass charge O'Reilly made,
closing with,
"Journalists are afraid to criticize
Jesse because they knows he can scream 'racism'
if anybody says anything ugly
about him."
It was the happiest I have ever seen Bill O'Reilly, who's been
gunning for Jesse for a year.
He was so happy, he said "(her name,)
I love you - I love you. That's the first (then
he caught himself)
...that's the most honest thing anyone
has said on this show in a long time."
So we have another Juan Williams on our hands.
Look, I know Jesse isn't a saint.
Christ, these days, who is?
If Jesse did something wrong, he should pay the price.
But O'Reilly is either personally racist or he's being paid to
go after Jesse Jackson.
Like with Clinton (or maybe anybody) if you spend enough money
and dig deep enough
you'll eventually find something that'd make a good
story that angry white men would like to hear.
Let's look at the scoreboard:
They've ruined (at least temporarily) Bill Clinton's reputation.
To this day, the press is repeating the Hillary bridal shower
story that Maureen Dowd fabricated.
Gore was made into the biggest serial liar in history.
Jesse Jackson is teetering on the edge of forever.
Daschle and Gephardt are both wearing pink tutus, so they're
obviously no threat to them.
They fucking murdered JFK, RFK and MLK.
Are we even in this game, anymore?
Name an influential and respected Democrat.
Go ahead, I have a few minutes - name one.
And if you say "Rush Feingold," I'm coming to your house.
The whore press has done such an effective job building up that
idiot Smirk,
while demonizing and dehumanizing anybody to the left of Reinhard
Heydrich.
...and the fake Democrats are just laying there, watching it happen.
Let's you and me agree on something: The first democrat
who stands up and says,
"We will not take this horseshit
one more day," is the guy we look at for 2004.
Saturday
We had another funeral today.
Went to Arkansas for the memorial service for a really sharp
lady named Hazel.
I only met her a couple of times (Mrs. BartCop's family) but
she was something.
I met her really late in her life, her late seventies, but boy
- she was something.
The first thing you'd notice about Hazel was her vocabulary.
When she told a story, you just wanted her to keep talking.
People don't impress me much, and Hazel was very impressive.
She had spunk, with you don't find much of in old people, which
is sad,
because old people have nothing to lose. They don't have to worry
about
saying something that might come back to haunt them in the coming
decades.
She had that spark in her eye and she was street-smart.
That is soo cool in an old person.
Before Clinton, you didn't know greatness could come from
Arkansas.
So, anyway, we go to Fort Smith, Arkansas for her memorial.
First thing, we meet the old-money relatives of Hazel.
They're from Missouri, (home of John Ashcroft.)
So we're sitting down to lunch at the downtown Fort Smith Holiday
Inn,
which is a nicer place than you might think. It looks a lot like
the downtown Houston Hyatt
with the giant Atrium and the waterfalls and the outside elevators,
So we're having our lunch.
Old-money doesn't make me nervous, but they bother me.
I hate to hear the super-rich whine about the cost of yacht insurance.
We ordered our food - I selected the "six layered turkey
deli sandwich,"
figuring that wouldn't piss anybody off too much, right?
(When the sombitch came, three of the six layers were Velveeta.)
I dutifully ate my Velvetta sandwich, when the conversation
broke out:
"Clinton is a bad man. He's immoral. I'm glad we now have Smirk in the White House."
As soon as they started, I made myself a deal:
If nobody went totally crazy, I'd let it slide.
Koresh, we're 90 minutes from a funeral - wrong time to make
old money eat it.
Sidebar:
You've been there a thousand times, right?
Some asshole is working on your last nerve,
and you tell yourself,
"If he says one more thing, I'm gonna
launch."
I don't mean to brag, but my launch sequence
is shorter than some.
I thought, things being what they are,
that I showed incredible restraint.
BUT,
I told myself if anybody looks at me and says, "Don't
you
agree?"
or "What's your opinion?"
that I'd go ahead and give them some BartCop magic.
I was ready, too.
Eight years of peace and prosperity. Abortions down, crime
down,
drug use down,
wages up, savings up, stock market thru the goddamn
roof, and on and on.
I was ready.
Well, the Lord was kind to them, because they never took my silent
dare.
I kept the BartCop beast in the cage the entire lunch.
The memorial was held inside a mausoleum., if you can believe
that.
The room was 24x40 and there were about 60 chairs.
The dead were in front of us, to our left, to our right and behind
us
I thought a mausoleum was a small, free-standing dedicated crypt-holder,
but no, this was a chapel where the walls were the remains of
others.
Did I mention it was creepy?
Besides the minister, three people spoke.
One of those people was a politician, and he did the coolest
thing.
He said, "Hazel always loved flowers,
and I wanted to bring her a rose today.
But one rose wouldn't do it,"
I'm thinking, - what, you brought hundreds of roses to show how
much money you have?
But no, that's not what he did.
He described Hazel as a woman of "many,
many accomplishments," which she was.
So he reached into his jacket and pulled out a plastic bag full
of rose petals.
He said, "I brought a rose petal for
every great thing Hazel ever did."
He reached into this bag of rose petals, grabbed a big handful
and threw them into the air and said,
"Each of those petals represents a life
she touched or a great accomplishment."
It was damn effective.
I wish I would've had a chance to talk to Hazel one-on-one.
She was sharper than a tack, but she was Mrs. BartCop's uncle's
cousin,
so my pipeline wasn't very direct, but she was a wordsmith with
strong opinions.
I regret the lost opportunity.
So, that was my Saturday, and that's why this issue is short.
From: dpingum@yahoo.com
Subject: The Worst President Ever
Damn, bc... every day this clown does something stupid.
CO2. Arsenic. North Korea. "Hispanically"...
the list goes on and on.
And fking "A" Bart, and it's only been three
months!
I know I'm preaching to the choir, but I don't
think
I'm overstating things when I brand Smirky:
"The Worst President Ever"
I may be the first, but damn... I won't be the last.
dp
Discovery
I know this looks like a set-up, but it's not.
That Lady Judas rant, above?
I did that from memory, but later I discovered I was rolling
tape.
I have the offending passage recorded.
This lady, her name is DelMarie Cobb, was Jesse's former press secretary.
Listen to her feed O'Reilly's racial vendetta against Jesse.
Listen to her point O'Reilly to a sturdy branch he could use
to lynch Jesse Jackson.
Listen to her sit silent as O'Reilly attacks Jesse for playing
the race card.
Listen to O'Reilly declare his lover for her - for stabbing Jesse
in the back.
Listen to the cock crowing three times in the distance.
I don't know about you, but I get depressed when I hear this shit.
Uncle Ernie - your mailbox isn't accepting mail.
Journalist Rowland Evans Dies at Age 79
WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Veteran journalist
and CNN host Rowland Evans died Friday
at Georgetown University Hospital after
a long battle with cancer. He was 79.
Evans was a co-host of CNN's Evans and
Novak discussion program for almost 20 years.
I don't think I ever saw Rollie Evans giggling while doing a story
on Clinton's cock.
Right away, that makes him one of the best reporters in the country.
Read the Previous Issue
It had everything.
Copyright © 2001, bartcop.com
Thanks for the fumble,
Dude.
