Daily Archives: January 29, 2014
The Rottweiler, The Pussy President And The First Booty Call
You would not believe what is happening in France these days.
The woman who accepted to become the mistress of a man living with another concubine plays victim because another woman has now accepted to become the mistress of the same man. All three of them grown up – at least anagraphically – and with children.
The same First Concubine, who tried to play the forgiving partner for the sake of the five servants, the life of luxury, and the international prominence, has now been pretty unceremoniously kicked out. She was only the concubine, you see, so no big formalities here. Adieu, servants who cater to her every whim. Adieu, photo-ops at the side of the powerful husband (eh? Oh, sorry, mistake!). Adieu, meeting with the Obamas next month. She would have looked so good beside man-jawed Michelle O., her dear, dear friend! Their conversations on “how to house-train your husband” were so funny!
As to the Child President, he must have had with some trusted functionary a conversation of this kind: “look, Monsieur le President: it’s clear you can’t keep your little friend in your pants, and it is only a matter of time before another woman takes the place of this actress. It would, therefore, be much wiser to keep the palace free from concubines and mistresses of all sorts. When the time comes to take the next toy on board, the noise will be greatly reduced. You want to stand for re-election one day, n’est-ce que pas?”
The President – who is a child, but an ambitious one – realised these were wise words, and decided to henceforward become officially single, though with the – how banal – actress on the side. He now has the double advantage of getting rid of the old witch without having another one squatting on the Élysée palace and making his life miserable. That should make for a happy child for a while.
Oh, about the witch… It turns out Ms Trierweiler is affectionately called “Rottweiler” by those who know and, as far as it goes, love her, and her stern behaviour towards her man-child is now becoming universally known. Apparently, on one particular interview Monsieur Hollande made the big mistake of mentioning – as in: mentioning – his once lawfully non-wedded quasi-wife, Ségolène, and later complained with the interviewing journalist the Rottweiler would now make his life hell for that; and he said this in all seriousness, and allegedly bleaching as soon as he realised his faux pas. Granted, the rumours of great devastations and damage in the Palace from the angry she-dog in a horrible bout of Rottweilerhood have been denied, but the entire country seems to have considered the tale of 2.5 million Euro damage credible for a moment. Go figure.
I am, therefore, probably not the only one to think Madame Rottweiler will now submerge Monsieur le Président under a tsunami of unsavoury revelations, and … bite him as hard as she can. As the Bard said, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Particularly – though the Bard didn’t say this – when she is a Rottweiler.
So there you are: an angry Rottweiler now unceremoniously kicked out of the extremely luxurious kennel; a first-mistress-in-waiting who will not be allowed to be one, and is now also unceremoniously relegated to the role of First Booty Call; and, most tragically, a man who is called to lead a great Western power and is such a spineless child that he is terrified of his concubine, even to the point of paling for having pronounced in an interview the name of his once lawfully wedded wife.
This bunch of children, sluts, and witches is a perfect representative of the liberal society; people who play the good and tolerant whilst they destroy families, behave like children or sluts, live for the notoriety and power and fake prestige their bed companions give them, or are such spineless jerks they are afraid of their own mistress even as they control nuclear weapons.
Are you surprised these people reflect that kind of society always ready to attack Catholicism, and to glorify sexual perversion? What do you expect from a President like that: that he upholds traditional morality?
France is, hopefully, waking up to the kind of infinite ass they have sent to the Élysée Palace. One hopes for the future they will elect I do not say chaste men – not much hope of that in France, anyway – but at least men decent enough to know what is right and what is wrong, with some respect for Christian values, and possibly with some balls to boot.
Still, it’s a democracy, and in a democracy you just get what you deserve.
Enjoy the show, France. Enjoy the motherload of manure the Rottweiler will unload on your President, most of it very probably deserved. Enjoy the spectacle of the man you have put at the top of a Nuclear Power behaving like a capricious child, and he in his Sixties. Bask in the knowledge he was terrified of his mistress, and is possibly only looking for the next woman of whom to be terrified – pussies don’t change, you see; not at that age -. Wait for the next instalment of this Old Children Saga, showing you once again how rotten your society has become.
Still… perhaps there is hope. Perhaps the healthy part of France will in the next years manage to carry others on the right side. Perhaps this pit of insolence, stupidity, immorality and sheer childishness will serve to wake up some people, and wake in the French nation a new desire for at least basic decency. The Manif pour Tous is an excellent start, and it is branching out in other countries, like Italy.
For the moment, though, the French will have to cope with an angry Rottweiler, a Fitst Booty Call, and a Pussy President.
It won’t be pretty.
And it came to pass “Rolling Stone”, last time I looked not a beacon of political conservatism, put Francis on their cover.
Did they do it because they have become nearer to Catholicism? Nope. They did because Francis is rather similar to them, so they can’t avoid liking him.
The article explaining the choice has no qualms in telling us Francis has pleased the majority of Catholics, with which the pleasure of the majority officially becomes Rolling Stone’s metre of a Pope doing a good job. Congratulations. You are smart. Please throw away the joint.
The usual grounds are also mentioned: the “who am I to judge” stunt before all, the “stance” concerning homosexuality in particular, but also the populist drive with the “simplicity” of life; and again, that Francis keeps a simple background in order for him to shine the more in the foreground escapes the brilliant minds of “Rolling Stone”, of whom it can safely say that the dope hasn’t really improved their analytical faculties.
What does Francis do in all this? Is he not tired of being praised to the sky by obvious enemies of Catholic morals, whilst the criticism among Catholics becomes more and more vocal? Should he not react like everyone else would: giving a couple of very hard interviews, and making clear this nonsense of the “hippy Pope” has to stop? Please think this: just a couple of very obvious statements concerning very obvious Catholics truths (say: unless atheists repent before death they will go to hell; Muslims are infidels; Proddies are heretics; there is no salvation outside the Church; very, very basic stuff like that) would cure the planet very fast from any idea concerning the “hippy Pope”.
The problem is, he is a hippy Pope. Rolling Stone “gets” him far better than the Pollyannas of the Neocon fraction. Actually, it’s fair to say in the meantime the entire non-Catholic planet gets him, only the majority of Catholics still don’t. Notice that, in fact, the “Rolling Stone” journalist was given access to the Vatican so he could spin the man better.
Whenever something like that happens (Francis praised by fags; Francis praised by socialists; Francis praised by abortionists) ask yourself why they didn’t like Benedict, and they like Francis so much.
If they are so stupid that they can’t understand Francis’ message, why did they not do the same with Benedict? If Francis says the same Benedict always said, why have they now suddenly learnt to listen? And most of all: if they praise him, as they all do, for the wrong reasons, why does Francis refuse to set the record straight?
The answer is evident to everyone who is not entirely deluded and willfully blind: because Benedict was different in both style and content; because they are as able to listen now as they always were, and because Francis’ religion is his own popularity, with poverty and social justice a distant second and Catholic values and battles nowhere to be seen.
Francis wearing the Red Nose is more and more the perfect image of this pontificate. A pontificate that will hopefully be short and followed by someone who has read the Gospel in the last five decades, and has understood what it says.
Pray for Francis, that he may discover Catholicism. And pray for the Church, that she may be freed from him if he doesn’t.
Reblog: Hell And Mercy
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