The Other McCain’s Rule 5 Sunday offering this week featured Kayleigh McEnany in prime place. She’s the hawt and feisty lass who’s taken up the job of Trump’s press secretary. You’ve probably seen clips of her dismembering the media pack one excruciating piece at a time. Seriously though; why do people these days have impossible names? I had to look three times trying to work out if I had spelled her name correctly. And I still don’t know. This is probably why teachers are now so shit. They get all disheartened at the start of the day just doing the roll call and then they’re buggered after that. Who gives a toss about Latin American geography when you’ve just read out 30 names that rhyme with phlegm.
But McEnany, (checking to see if I got that right …), really does take it to the press. It’s lovely to watch. But I think that she’s far too polite. As brilliant as she is, I would just love it if someone dealt with them the way that they deserve to be treated. Now, that’s not possible to really do properly unless you live in North Korea and your name starts with Fats. But the media hate us, and by us I mean you as well. Why be polite to them? Why not just treat them like the media scum that they are?
If only someone would stride up to the podium and survey the assembled gathering with an overbearing attitude of weary disdain. Of complete exasperation that he has had to demean himself by being in the presence of such tossers. And then with a very long and audible sigh begin with something along the lines of this:
“What a bunch of losers we have in this room today. Look at you. You’re all morons, complete and utter fools. And I say that literally. You lot are functionally retarded. You’ve got this job because it’s this or sniffing glue for a living. I don’t know why we bother with you. Just go and write whatever you want because either way it will be rubbish and the only people who will believe it are stupider than you, which is almost too horrifying to contemplate.
“Today we’re going to give an award for the most inane question. Now you lot should be good at this, both for your lack of talent and for your unquenched thirst for awards. After all, you give each other enough of them to fill the English Channel. Which is most probably the reason why we have so many bloody third world invaders strolling into the country. The winner of the most inane question put forth this morning will receive 500 lashes out the front of the building. I’ll deliver the first few but I’m pretty sure that my arm will get tired rather quickly so I’ll hand it over to a long line of people who have been maligned by the press over the past 24 hours. Really, we had trouble accommodating them all.
“So with that in mind we’re going to feature a second award today, and that is the journalist whose face we would most like to punch. I must warn you that this award is already pretty well wrapped up as we have our eye on a certain individual for this, and we have had for some time. But we’re not completely closed to someone else breaking through the ranks and really putting their worst face forward as it were. 500 lashes for that one too. I might have a crack at the first few strokes if the main target wins as I sincerely hope that he will.
“Also, just to keep things really perky, at the conclusion of this press conference, all of the female journalists will be taken outside and burnt at the stake. I realise that for some of you this will be somewhat of a disappointing end to your day but you must understand that it’s been a long time coming and everyone has simply had quite enough. We would appreciate it very much if you went quietly as we had rather a long session last night in anticipation of today’s pleasures and my head is killing me.
“Okay then. Now that that’s all clear, who has the first question?”
Originally published at Pushing Rubber Downhill. You can purchase Adam’s books here.
