Posted on 01/28/2018 7:45:04 AM PST by Rummyfan
“..I feel sorry for her grandchildren....”
I feel sorry for every person in this country who her actions hurt.
I feel sorry for every American (and their families) who died as a result of her actions and inaction as SoS.
She should already be in jail.
I can’t wait for either a picture of this criminal wretch in cuffs or in the docket.
p
Only jail? Hung by the neck until dead is more fitting.
no question.
Hey,contact Rush...he did “the golden negro” as I recall.
Get me a rope
Prison, or better yet, executed.
I was in a good mood when I wrote that...
Charitable, even.
I think prison would be bad for someone like her.
She’d get to wake up every day and say to herself “I used to be somebody...”
Hey that guy sings really good!
....”In her mind she has sacrificed her life for the cause”....
Well the cause was herself and why she failed twice!
Wreck of Hillary Clinton?
The wreck of the Hesperus pales in comparison.
Wreck of the Hillary
( William’s Wad’s Worth Shortfellow)
It was the schooner Hillary,
That sail’d Trump’s wint’ry sea,
Podesta the skipper had ta’en his little witch
To bear him company.
Blue were her eyes, as the fairy’s fax,
Her cheeks like the bane of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds
Bloodied thorns in the month of May.
Skipper Podesta stood beside the helm,
With his pipe in his mouth,
And watch’d how, the Russian flaw did blow
The smoke now west, now south.
Then up and spoke an old sailor,
Had sailed the Spanish Main,
“I pray thee, put into Mara-largo port,
For I fear a hurricane.”
Last night the moon had a golden ring,
But tonight no moon we see.”
skipper Podesta blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laugh’d he.
Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;
She shudder’d and paus’d like a frighted steed,
Then leap’d her cable’s length.
“Come hither! come hither! my little witch,
And do not tremble so,
For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever Trump did blow.”
“Dear hubby ! I hear the church bell ring,
Oh say what may it be?”
“ ‘Tis a fog bell on a rock-bound Trump,
We must steer for the open sea.”
“Dear Bill! I see a gleaming light
O say what may it be?”
But Bill he answer’d never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.
Lash’d to the helm all stiff and stark,
With his pale face to the skies;
The lantern gleam’d thro’ the falling snow
On his fix’d and glassy eyes.
Then the witch clasp’d her hands, and pray’d
That saved she might be;
she thought of Him who still’d the Dem knaves
On the bosom of Mara-largo key..
But fast thro’ the midnight dark and drear,
Thro’ the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the bark swept on
To the reef of ‘ Donald’s Woe’.
Her rattling shrouds, all sheath’d in ice,
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass she stove and sank,
Ho! Ho! the media roar’d!
At daybreak on the bleak sea beach
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of Cankles fair
Float by on a drifting mast.
The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And her streaming hair, like the brown sea-weed,
On the waves did fall and rise.
Such was the wreck of the Hillary,
In the midnight and the snow!
Oh! save us all from a death like this,
On the reef of ‘Donalds’s Woe’.
Yeah, imagine her in the Oval Office, and the 24/7 media love fest that would be going on. I shudder to think. Thank God we dodged that bullet.
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