Hater, vol. 3

I hate that I have to write this. I really hate it. Because I don't want to have to say it. But it's been building up for weeks now, and as much as I've tried to rationalize and beat it out of me, I can't help myself.

Hillary Clinton, it's time to go away now. Seriously. Vamoose. Be gone, Satan.

Okay. You're not Satan. That was a cheap shot. I'm sorry.

In fact, you're an impressive, accomplished woman. You're brilliant. You genuinely care about America. You are willing to have a bit of fun at your own expense on Letterman and The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, and you'll even go on the sub-standard Saturday Night Live and laugh at their stupid no-talent jokes. Hillary, there is a lot to like about you, and I can say I used to genuinely be your biggest fan. And not in a creepy Kathy Bates way, but in a respectful, appropriate-distance kinda way.

But now you're a harpy-like caricature of a politician, what with your helmet hair and fashionably square pantsuits - your 3AM ad, and your bitter-elite-nancyboy attacks, and your ludicrous reminiscing about hunting trips with your dad. Why have you sunk so low? What has driven you to this moronically petty nattering?

Sure, Barack Obama is handsome, dead-sexy even, and has a quick wit and natural eloquence that charms everyone in his path. And yes, he hasn't been in the senate that long, and he's only 40-something and he's only been in the national eye since 2004. But that doesn't make tea with the wives of foreign dignitaries foreign policy experience - my friend Callista does that, and while believe-you-me she'd be a force of nature in the Oval Office, it doesn't give her equal qualifications to her husband. You've been a senator four more years than Mr. Obama, and you are Bill Clinton's wife so you saw a lot of things when he was president. You're capable, you're smart, and you can do the job, but you're not Henry Kissinger. So stop with the bill of goods.

And while I'm at it, Bill, what are you doing????? Come ON, mate. I used to think you were king. So smart. So kind. So charismatic. So full of promise. You were my first, my love. After trying to get rid of Reagan and Bush Sr. to no avail, you were the sweet sweet taste of victory. A voice of reason in a world of supply-side, Falwell-loving claptrap. And now you're out there ranting like a lunatic, completely disconnected from the tidal wave of change about to wash politics-as-usual out to sea. Oh, Bill. Dear, sweet Bill. We are so OVER.

Hillary, I beseech you...stop being so stubborn and face the facts. It's time to bow out gracefully. It's always best to leave before you're asked to. It's not that I don't think Pennsylvanians have a right to vote. But you're not going to win the nomination, and the more you grandstand in desperate attempts to save your campaign, the more you just seem churlish and bitchy.

But good luck to you. And God Bless.

Oh. And word to the wise...next time you're offered a shot, tequila and bourbon have more blue-collar impact than Crown Royal. It comes in a blue felt-velvet bag, for Pete's sake. Crown Royal is for people who are putting on airs.