Monday, March 30, 2015

How I missed another Pulitzer



 





WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO HARRY REID?
How I missed another Pulitzer





This is kind of a bummer, but it's my own fault for sitting on it.  Going back to 2006, when it became apparent that Reid was awash in Abramoff Indian Casino money, I really expected that, at best, it spelled the end of Harry's political career.  I mean, the LA Times had already done a series about the Reid 'Crime Family," right?  And later the Times did "A Deal in the Desert for Reid.;" and a whole bunch more.  Who knew that the new rule, "Democrat Crime Is Never Punished" had gone into effect?

 So, when after the last election he'd lost control of the Senate, and someone beat the crap out of him  was badly hurt while "performing an exercise on a large rubber band, but when it snapped, it spun him around and sent him flying into his cabinets;" heads bobbed. Nobody, save possibly Snopes, believed that.  Right?

All that was percolating; I had this whole "Good Fellas" mini-series post in my head, about how the Indian casino lobby, pissed off that Reid had not delivered on promises they'd paid millions for, asked for their money back and Reid give them the "finger," like he does to everyone who annoys him, so they put a contract on him.  That was my premise.  So today, with time on my hands, I decided to do it.  And guess what?  The very first thing I see in my initial Google background search was this, from Powerline.  From freaking January! "WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO HARRY REID?" Crap.  Looks like that prick will get away with it, and I lost another Pulitzer.

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

Senator Geary understands.
Tim

Tom Smith said...

Thinks he is a Kennedy...........

DougM said...

Recuperating with family friends in the mountains near Corleone, Sicily.
Also teaching his wife to drive.

Murphy(AZ) said...

Maybe some cranky old f*rt Conservative just reached the point where he couldn't take Reid's crap anymore and dropped a Nautilus Machine on his sorry ass, er... HEAD!

Now, I'm more than a little stove up with the arthuritis, but he's p*ssed me off enough over the years where I MIGHT have rigged his "stretch and sweat" equipment to throw a cable or drop some weights on his scrawny carcass!

Anonymous said...

I'd ask who had a motive for punching the man in the face, but that list is *endless*.

Anonymous said...

The real truth-teller is the retirement. How many of these jackasses retire? They don't. They see their Senate seats as lifetime sinecures. Clearly, someone has given him the word.

Casca

P.S. I've got him on death watch. He doesn't make it to "retirement".

Rodger the Real King of France said...

yup +

Anonymous said...

I'd donate to "Knuckles" legal defense fund.

Anonymous said...

This is what happens when an amateur boxer in high school (per wikipedia) gets in a fight with a professional.

Lookit, here's the money shot. Reid is a lawyer. All those sumbitches he calls friends are lawyers, or some other kind of crook. And what do lawyers do? They chase ambulances, and sue people. Exception for Barn Army JAG Chuck Martel, of course. Reid gets injured by an obviously defective piece of exercise equipment. But, there's no mention of a lawsuit. Reid doesn't even have to chase this ambulance, it came and picked him up. A bird nest on the ground, as we used to say in my native South Texas, or perhaps a slam dunk, so you Kentucky fans can relate.

Ergo, Reid's story is horse-shit, in some form or fashion. Which we knew already, because Reid told it, but I digress. So the only question is, was Reid's sparring partner named Thumps Like Buffalo, or Tony Spilotro, Jr.?

Sir H the Comet

Anonymous said...

My sentiments exactly! The conspicuous absence of a lawsuit against the "exercise equipment" manufacturer was the main reason that Reid's story pegged the needle on my stink-meter right from jump street.

Caballero Andante

JMcD said...

Bottles of poison that recommend one to "induce vomiting on ingestion", now include a hand sized photo of Harry "the stomachcurdler" Reid.

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