Former DNC Chair Describes Clinton II Woman As Moron Made Of Wood, Reeking Of Death

Former Democratic National Committee head Donna Brazile has published a book in which she describes the Clinton II woman during the 2016 presidential campaign as a moron made of wood, reeking of death.

Brazile paints a scathing portrait of Clinton as a candidate whose campaign was badly mismanaged, took minority constituencies for Democratic Presidential Candidates Debate At Dartmouthgranted, and made blunders with “stiff” and “stupid” messages. The campaign was so lacking in passion for the candidate, she writes, that its New York headquarters felt like a sterile hospital ward where “someone had died.”

Brazile writes she knew the campaign was Doomed when she realized the staff wasn’t fucking, and discovered that out in the country there was about as much enthusiasm for the Clinton II woman as for a double root canal.

As she traveled the country, Brazile writes, she detected an alarming lack of enthusiasm for Clinton. On black radio stations, few people defended the nominee. In Hispanic neighborhoods, the only Clinton signs she saw were at the campaign field offices.

But at headquarters in New York, the mood was one of “self-satisfaction and inevitability,” and Brazile’s early reports of trouble were dismissed with “a condescending tone.”

Brazile describes the 10th floor of Clinton’s Brooklyn headquarters, where senior staff worked: “Calm and antiseptic, like a hospital. It had that techno-hush, as if someone had died. I felt like I should whisper. Everybody’s fingers were on their keyboards, and no one was looking at anyone else. You half-expected to see someone in a lab coat walk by.”

During one visit, she writes, she thought of a question former Democratic congressman Tony Coelho used to ask her about campaigns: “Are the kids having sex? Are they having fun? If not, let’s create something to get that going, or otherwise we’re not going to win.”

“I didn’t sense much fun or fucking in Brooklyn,” she deadpans.

She confirms that Clinton II campaign chief Rooby Mook was a numbnuts bumbler who sat around all day in his male harem wanking with numbers in tubes, even as out in the Mongo regions legions of shambling, grunting MongoRoids were preparing to knuckledrag out of every haint and holler to plunge the country into the Dark Ages.

robby-mook-cnn-e1467406260848-400x254Brazile writes that Clinton campaign manager Robby Mook and his lieutenants were so obsessed with voter data and predictive analytics that they “missed the big picture.”

Brazile describes Mook, in his mid-30s, as overseeing a patriarchy. “They were all men in his inner circle,” she writes.

Brazile admits that her ordeal aboard the corpsemobile transformed her into a woman behaving like she’d been too long at the meth pipe.

Brazile writes that she was haunted by the still-unsolved murder of DNC data staffer Seth Rich and feared for her own life, shutting the blinds to her office window so snipers could not see her and installing surveillance cameras at her home. She wonders whether Russians had placed a listening device in plants in the DNC executive suite.

Brazile became concerned about the Rooskis diddling in the election, and tried to reach an agreement with her Republican counterparts to denounce together Vlad impaling the electorate. But Rinse Pubis and Cabbage Spine wouldn’t even look at her, because Vlad told them not to.

Backstage at a debate, she writes, she approached Sean Spicer, then-chief strategist for the Republican National Committee, but “I could see his eyes dart away like this was the last thing he wanted to talk to me about.” She asked RNC Chairman Reince Priebus, too, but “I got that special D.C. frost where the person smiles when he sees you but immediately looks past you trying to find someone in the room to come right over and interrupt the conversation.”

The Clinton II people treated her like a slave, and she grew sick of it.

As one of her party’s most prominent black strategists, Brazile also recounts fiery disagreements with Clinton’s staffers—including a conference call in which she told three senior campaign officials, Charlie Baker, Marlon Marshall and Dennis Cheng, that she was being treated like a slave.

“I’m not Patsey the slave,” Brazile recalls telling them, a reference to the character played by Lupita Nyong’o in the film, 12 Years a Slave. “Y’all keep whipping me and whipping me and you never give me any money or any way to do my damn job. I am not going to be your whipping girl!”

Brazile says she almost convened a star chamber to yank the Clinton II woman off the campaign trail with a big stage-hook, replacing her with Joe Biden, because when the Clinton II woman fell down on the 9/11 curb, that Proved her campaign was “anemic” and had “an odor of failure.”

Whenever Brazile got frustrated with Clinton’s aides, she writes, she would remind them that the DNC images-3charter empowered her to initiate the replacement of the nominee. If a nominee became disabled, she explains, the party chair would oversee a complicated process of filling the vacancy that would include a meeting of the full DNC.

After Clinton’s fainting spell, some Democratic insiders were abuzz with talk of replacing her—and Brazile says she was giving it considerable thought.

“Again and again I thought about Joe Biden,” Brazile writes. But, she adds, “No matter my doubts and my fears about the election and Hillary as a candidate, I could not make good on that threat to replace her.”

No one knows exactly why Brazile decided to write a book that would portray the Clinton II campaign as some macabre dunce dance manned by Inspector Clouseau, Wrong Way Corrigan, Simon Legree, the captain of the Titanic, the corpse of El Cid, the generals who ordered the Charge of the Light Brigade and the assault on Gallipoli, and the man who shot off his penis with his own pistol.

What is known, is that the Clinton II woman has said that in the days after her loss to Mongo, she devoted her nights to screaming into her pillow. And that tonight she is at it again.

The Americans were wise and just in declining to make the Clinton II woman the president. An embalmed relict of a defunct family b865bce21ae22fd79263536aa973cb67--charging-bull-pamplonadynasty, who could articulate no reason she should attain the office, other than that it was “her turn”: years ago, she and The Clenis had decreed there should be “eight years of Bill, and eight years of Hill.” She seemed to have been in the politics since before the days of Benjamin Franklin; her show had been running longer even than Gunsmoke, and people wanted it shut off.

Unfortunately, the Americans also demonstrated they have no higher brain functioning whatsoever, in selecting instead as the president an actual monster, a raving, racist, criminal psychopath, who is not only not fit to be president, but cannot even be classified as a functional human being.

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