Michele Bachmann, the insane Congresswoman from out of Icepick, Minnesota, placed on her campaign website at about 4 a.m. local time Wednesday an eight-minute video in which she announced she would not seek re-election in 2014.
Political observers were nearly unanimous in concluding that the weirdsmobile wee-hours timing of the Bachmann announcement confirmed longstanding suspicions that the unsane teabagger is owned and controlled by truly mammoth mountains of methamphetamine.
“No one thinks it is Sane or Normal to suddenly throw up such a video at four in the morning, unless they’re a fucking meth monkey,” wrote Barney Rubble in Politico.
“It was just too cold up there in the frozen tundra to go out and tinker with the innards of her automobile at two in the morning, like a normal meth person,” Rubble explained. “So she recorded and released a crazed video. That’s what these people do.”
There was, however, a minority view. “I don’t think she released the thing when she did because she shoots speed in both arms all day and all of the night,” demurred Dr. E Pluribus Unum. “I think it’s because she’s a werewolf.”
In any event, there was near-universal rejoicing at the werewolfian meth-huffer’s abrupt abandonment of the political landscape.
“There simply must be some minimal standards,” groused Rubble. “And a woman who can’t even correctly spell her first name has no place in politics. Not even in America.”
Bachmann is best known for her barking mad utterances during the 751 globally televised Republican presidential debates of 2012. These broadcasts bled into space, causing extraterrestrials to build a hyperspace bypass so that Thinking and Feeling creatures need no longer venture into this quadrant of the galaxy. Where they would surely succumb to The Fear.
In her pre-dawn-patrol video, the noted meth-mouth gibbered that “my decision was not in any way influenced by any concerns about my being re-elected to Congress.” This remark was interpreted to mean that Bachmann knows that in 2014 she would be beaten like a gong by any sentient creature who happened to oppose her. Creatures not excluding Baby Huey, Yosemite Sam, or Wile E. Coyote.
The werewolf further howled: “This decision was not impacted in any way by the recent inquiries into the activities of my former presidential campaign or my former presidential staff.” This remark was interpreted to mean that Bachmann knows that the several dozen ongoing legal investigations into the Gang That Couldn’t Crook Straight bumblings of her staff will inevitably result in everyone she’s ever known or even seen being lashed into jail on multiple felony charges.
Because there are no coincidences, the addled announcement preceded but by hours the release of a new book titled Fires of Siberia, “a romance novel based on the life of Minnesota Congresswoman Michele Bachmann.”
The book follows Danielle Powers, a presidential candidate “full of firebrand pluck and red state sex appeal” whose plane crashes over Siberia, according to the press release. Together with the only other survivor, Steadman Bass, Danielle Powers is forced to “confront her deepest self and choose between civilization and a wild, primitive ecstasy.” (Skimming the galley, I noticed a reference to her nipples, at one point, “pebbl[ing].”)
And thus, all becomes clear. Bachmann is abandoning her seat because Fires of Siberia is not fiction. It is True.
And Bachmann knows it.
Unable to live with the Shame, she beat the book’s release—though only by hours—with her announced retirement from public life.
Now, Bachmann can wallow in meth—nipples pebbled—in privacy and peace. Yes, now, and with a wild, primitive ecstasy, she can rearrange her silverware drawer at 2 a.m. Or stare intently at minute pieces of string, wondering What They Want. And when the day inevitably comes, as it must to all meth people, and most werewolves, that the refrigerator Needs to be Shot, she can blast away without fear of appearing on the national news. And otherwise freely indulge, now, she, in all the many other wonderments, that occupy the lives of the meth people among us.