As Promised...

...there will be no more Miers-bashing.  Because UT won--and my, was it glorious--I will hold my tongue.  I will keep to myself the list of Harriet Miers jokes that had been growing over the last few weeks. So you WON'T be hearing, from me, ANY of the following:

Knock-Knock. Who's there? Harriet Miers. Harriet Miers who? Exactly.

So a horse walks into a bar.  Bartender says, "Why the long face?" Horse says, "Because Harriet Miers is underqualified."

A priest, a rabbi, and a nun walk into a bar.  The priest says, "Harriet Miers is underqualified." The nun says, "I know."

Q: Who's less-qualified to hear Supreme Court cases than Harriet Miers? A: Harriet Miers with no ears.

A priest, a rabbi, and a nun walk into a bar.  The priest says,"But seriously. She's totally, ridiculously underqualified." The rabbi says, "I know. I think I hate God now."

Knock-Knock. Who's there? Harriet Miers is a lesbian. Really? No, not really.  But if she were a Democrat's nominee, you know that's what the GOP would be saying.  60? No kids? Not married? Please.

Harriet Miers walks into a bar. Bartender says, "The Lottery Commission? Really?" Harriet Miers says,"It's okay. I'm a lesbian."

George Bush nominates Harriet Miers for the Supreme Court.  Man, that's hilarious.

-----

So, you can thank me for that.  It's not often that I show this kind of restraint.

UPDATE:  Forgot to mention that I also won't be mentioning one last joke. If you're my mom or somebody's kid, you should probably stop reading.

Harriet Miers walks into the Senate Judiciary Committee's confirmation hearings. Arlen Specter asks her, "Ms. Miers, how would you describe your approach to interpreting the Constitution?”

Miers, visibly excited, says, “I’m glad you asked. My approach is really quite interesting. I think you’ll like it.”

“Well then,” Specter says. “Let’s hear it.”

Miers launches into an explanation: “Well, first thing I do is find a fairly quiet room with a clean desk. I put the Constitution on one side of the desk, and a Bible on the other. I then completely disrobe, as to be completely unfettered for the job at hand.”

“Uh, Ms. Miers, I’m not sure that—”

“I then take the Constitution and stick it all the way up my ass. This is fairly difficult, because I like to use a large, leather-bound version, but I’ve gotten much better at it. It’s usually just the gold-plated index tabs that hurt.”

“Ms. Miers, you realize that we’re on C-SPAN right now....”

“Then, once the Constitution is safely hidden in my rectum, I bring my cat—Oscar—into the room, and begin feeding him pages of the Bible. He mostly likes the New Testament. Of course, since the Bible I use is printed on a 15% cotton-fiber stock, Oscar can only keep it down for so long. But when he finally coughs up the Bible-laden hairball, the pages have been reduced to a fine paste that it is somehow perfectly suited for use as decorative body paint.”

“I really think we should take a break now, Ms. Miers.”

“Wait just a moment. So now that I have this kitty-puke body paint, I’m finally ready for the midget to come in.”

“Ms. Miers—”

“I’m sorry, little person. The little person takes the cat-vomit paint, and begins transcribing my thoughts on the facts of the case in longhand, backwards, using, for parchment, my glorious, naked body, and using, for a quill, his glorious—”

“Would somebody get a paramedic in here? I think Feinstein just fainted!”

“Now, while the anatomically-gifted dwarf is dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s, I take a moment to forcibly eject the Constitution from my cavity. I then beat the cat to death with it—that little fucker just ate my Bible, after all—skin his corpse, and spread it out onto the desk. I then proceed to pleasure the Sex Gnome with the Constitution, all the while rolling my body across the desk, which transfers a now-readable version of the transcription onto the spread-out cat’s fur. I then wrap myself in this fabulous cloak, borrow a quarter from my Magnificent Porn Pygmy, and flip it into the air. If it lands on heads, I donate the cloak to charity, marry the little guy, and decide for the appellant on moral grounds. If it lands on tails, I donate the Oompa Loompa to charity, have myself declared legally married to the Cat-Skin-and-Puke Blanket, and decide for the appellee on a technicality.”

At this point, Feinstein has fainted, Kennedy has had three heart attacks, and Specter looks as if he’s just vomited down his suit pants, which, in fact, he has. “That’s quite a judicial philosophy you have there, Ms. Miers,” he says. “What do you call it?”

Miers jumps up from her seat, gives a cute little wave of her hands and says:

“Originalism!”

Comments

[Ruth]

*wipes tear*

That's impressive restraint. You didn't even touch on chicken crossing the road jokes. And the lack of "yo' mama's so dumb that she makes Harriet Miers look qualified" type jokes is quite admirable.

I'm totally stealing the knock knock joke. Great post.

[bgt]

I'm sitting here in London at a little after 2am laughing my ass off at "originalism"...outstanding work.

[baxter]

Perhaps "The Originalists" could become a secret underground sort of handshake joke between blawgers and someday they'll make a documentary about it. Nevertheless, these jokes are very funny, it's too bad that you won't be telling them any time soon.

[John]

The joke about the party-reversal lesbian charge is funny 'cause its true.

[Trumpit]

That's the hardest I've laughed in a while. Thanks!

If she had stuffed the Constitution in her vagina, then she could have claimed to be a vaginalist. If she played the violin during all her judicial escapades, then she would be a violinist originalist lesbian vaginalist orificial of the court. Or, VOLVO for short.

[easternair]

if you can you get bob saget to read that one day and let me see it (on video or in person), i'll give you my firstborn.

[KJ]

That was so wrong.

Wrong!

[Nino]

That's not funny. Harriet's a fine, fine woman. Damn fine. So fine I expect Clarence will be wanting a piece.

[JCA]

Guffawing out loud. I heart you.

[Atticus]

It's official. I have urinated. And that penis trickle spot on my boxer briefs is now as qualified as Harriet Miers. It's organalist, too.

[Fall Downstairberg]

How do we make this the #1 Google hit for originalism?

[t.a. barnhart]

i absolutely love "originalism". thank you thank you. made my friggin week

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