Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll has been inspired by A VERY MINOR CELEBRITY’S AUCTION! She writes:

I recently read a first-person account by a woman who had been a “proud lesbian” until her partner up and decided she was actually a man. This woman expected to be a Professional Gay Woman for life with all the dual rights and privileges to which she was entitled, and suddenly she finds herself married to a regular old garden-variety MAN like the rest of us non-special heterosexual women.

Not only that, but since it’s verboten to suggest that the transgender person hadn’t ALWAYS been a man, this woman had been with a man all along, thus jeopardizing her status as a lesbian, proud or not. That’s gotta rock your world. On top of that, her partner CHOSE Toxic Masculinity! She was born a Fabulous Female, but OPTED to join Team Terrible, The No Good Very Bad Oppressor Gender. What the heck? Somebody is lying here: either men are not as hideous as advertised, or a woman who freely chooses to become one is not a “transgender” but a gender traitor, deliberately inflicting another icky man on the world!

To the woman’s credit, I guess, she tells us that this man is still the same dear partner he had always been and she is going to stay with him. Whatever. Wait for the other shoe to drop – when he can’t stand being hectored for contributing to Rape Culture and causing all the world’s ills any more and announces that he is a GAY man and dumps her for another guy.

Sorry. But if Mr. AG declares one day that he is a lady – exactly the same chance as the UN apologizing for its nauseating anti-Semitism before disbanding in abject shame – we could still be good friends and I would give him my Brisket recipe and pie crust secrets. Possibly, we could go shoe-shopping together for Size 13 high heels, so he could be a 6’7” woman.

But no, we would not continue to be married. That’s how narrow-minded I am. I’m pretty sure he feels even stronger about the chances he would stay married to a 5 foot tall high-strung tiny man with a crewcut and the mandatory silly facial hair. I mean, I might give it a go if I thought it would help me have a better sense of direction. Or ANY sense of direction.

But that’s not actually what this column is about. It’s about a whole different forehead-slapper and a wonderful romp down Memory Lane. Lena Dunham, who might have gone as long as a week without making a fool of herself for publicity, has announced that she is auctioning off the very dress in which she cried on election night! Oh Em Gee, you guys. Who wouldn’t want in on THAT action?

Yes, her candidate LOST and the other one won! Something that has never happened before in the history of The Republic! (Well, ten times to ME, but who’s counting?) It is totally unacceptable that virtually all of Hollywood – the Beautiful People, the Smart People, the Rich People Whose Important Job Is Pretending to be Someone Else – wanted the OTHER candidate to win and yet she did not! And in this new Dystopia where women are going to be living out The Handmaid’s Tale with forced breeding, naturally, Lachrymose Lena is going to donate the proceeds of this auction to Planned Parenthood.

The EGO on this woman-child! What would anyone want with or do with her tear-stained dress? Do you put it in one of those vacuum-sealed plastic bags for posterity: “This dress once belonged to a mediocre actress who lived to prance around nekkid. Am I lucky, or what, to have this?” Has the garment been laundered since November 8th, or would it fetch a bigger price if it weren’t – like sweaty “game-worn” sports jerseys?

These are certainly questions for the ages. But it did open up some fundraising possibilities for me. As a semi-anonymous “celebrity” with tens of fans of my column, I am auctioning off a (M) T-shirt with pictures of many calibers of cartridges. The shirt, which I got at a gun show, sports the slogan, “America… learning the metric system one millimeter at a time.” I was wearing it the night of the election when I stayed up til dawn in stunned disbelief and Irish Coffee-fueled exuberance. It is clean and ready to wear upon arrival.

I will throw in the warm Walmart slippers (S) with the slip-proof feet in which I jumped up and down doing the Happy Dance in unbridled joy when each Rust Belt state went to Trump and it became clear that Hillary Clinton would NEVER be President of the United States.

Act before midnight, and I will include the cheap adjustable ring from the finger with which I have repeatedly pressed “Play” to watch the YouTube meltdowns of the unbiased neutral media. Oh, the long, sad faces when “their” candidate lost Wisconsin, Michigan, Iowa, Ohio, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Florida! I have watched my candidate lose on most election nights – and yet, the next day, I still called the winner “my President” — but I have never seen the media root more openly for one side without a fig leaf of objectivity.

Watching Rachel Maddow’s distressed little face come perilously close to losing her trademark snotty smirk as she informed her stunned fan base that “No, you haven’t died and gone to hell. This is your life now,” was one of the highlights of my life. But I don’t get out much. Just hours earlier, she had animatedly assured that base that even IF Donald won all the toss-ups and even one electoral vote in Maine, he would still lose. Oopsie!

At first I watched these YouTube freak-outs several times a day, as much to convince myself that it had really happened as to gloat. Okay, mostly to gloat. I am down to every couple of weeks now, whenever I need a lift. It never gets old, does it? In my opinion, America had one last chance to pull back from the abyss and her patriots took it! Justice Gorsuch alone was worth it, no matter what else happens going forward.

All profits from the auction will be divided between Project Veritas and my personal charity, The Ammo Grrrll Wildlife Fund. Remember, if you don’t give, I can’t lead a Wild Life. Let the bidding begin.

Responses

Books to read from Power Line