Is Hillary wearing another one of her oven-mitt dresses in that photo?
She's just so incredibly stupid looking! I mean, just damn! Can't believe how many stupid women worship this shred of human debris. Doesn't say much for them at all!
Can you post the full body shot? I'm worried about the bitch's broken toe. I hope she's not still wearing a boot, the poor dear.
IMHO: When the HILLBILLYS are dead, everything will be coming out, a lot more than we would ever imagine, until then, people are still worried about being killed...
There will be a lot coming out but the ‘behind the scenes’ things that you wouldn’t imagine in a million years will be the ‘real stuff’...our Patriots are staying in the background to stay safe...
In her mind she has sacrificed her life for the cause. And she has not reaped the glory she so obviously deserves.
Why don’t the little people get it? Don’t they know her work is for them? The Revolution will make everyone equal.
She’s disgusting.
Fat, drunk, and stupid medias idea of the smartest woman in the world no wonder they say the things they say.
Nasty woman who makes the world uglier.
I can’t wait for either a picture of this criminal wretch in cuffs or in the docket.
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’.