But the crème de la crapola was the appearance of

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But the crème de la crapola was the appearance of New Jersey Governor Chris Christie, who managed to push this convention's standard for lunatic demagoguery even deeper into the red zone.

Remarkably articulate, considering that he was talking through a psychological ball-gag, the first thing Big Chicken pointed out was that Donald Trump was the bravest, warmest …well, not exactly.


Last Night Chris Christie Had the Living Definition of a Shit-Eating Grin on His Face

Trump owns them all now.


GETTY THE WASHINGTON POST

BY CHARLES P. PIERCE
JUL 20, 2016

CLEVELAND, OHIO—Once the deed was done, and folks were filtering out to celebrate the elevation of He, Trump to the toppermost of the poppermost of the Republican Party, it was time for the Volksgerichtshof portion of the festivities.

One after another, the establishment pols came rolling out to pledge their undying fealty to the new boss. I'm surprised that He, Trump let them keep their belts on so their pants wouldn't fall down.

First came Mitch McConnell, booed once again by most of those still in the Q. Then came most of the Republican Senate rookies, the ones who were elected in 2014 in The Only Election That Ever Really Mattered.

Paul Ryan stepped up and, I'm not sure, but I think the zombie-eyed granny-starver from the state of Wisconsin may have inadvertently accepted his party's nomination for president. He certainly didn't mention anyone else who might have done so. "Whaddya say?" he asked the convention as his speech came to a close.

So what do you say we unite this party, at this crucial moment when unity is everything? Let's take the fight to our opponents with better ideas—let's get on the offensive and let's stay there. Let's compete in every part of America, and turn out at the polls like every last vote matters, because it will. Fellow Republicans, what we have begun here, let's see it through … let's win this thing … let's show America our best and nothing less.

Who's going to break the news to the poor guy? I feel so very bad.

But the crème de la crapola was the appearance of New Jersey Governor Chris Christie, who managed to push this convention's standard for lunatic demagoguery even deeper into the red zone.

Remarkably articulate, considering that he was talking through a psychological ball-gag, the first thing Big Chicken pointed out was that Donald Trump was the bravest, warmest …well, not exactly.
I am here tonight not only as the Governor of New Jersey, but also as Donald Trump's friend for the last fourteen years.

We are about to be led by not only a strong leader but by a caring, genuine and decent person.

Why not pass the time with a little solitaire, Chris?

However, having sold whatever soul he ever had, Big Chicken, whose aides are back in New Jersey copping pleas, decided to throw self-awareness to the four winds and actually conduct a mock trial of Hillary Rodham Clinton. "I was a former federal prosecutor," Big Chicken began, "so let's have a little fun tonight."

He then presented a "bill of indictment" that included blaming HRC for Boko Haram's kidnapping of Nigerian schoogirls.
"Guilty or not guilty," he asked the crowd.

"Guilty!" they replied. And then they chanted, "Lock her up! Lock her up!" over and over again. I believe he also said he saw HRC and Lizzie Proctor speaking with the devil.

"Guilty or not guilty?"
"Guilty!"

"Lock her up! Lock her up!"

And Big Chicken stood there with the living definition of a shit-eating grin on his face, an abject failure as a candidate and now a hopeless sycophant. They are all his now. He owns their asses and they sold them cheap. I guess they can keep their belts for a little while longer.

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