Wyoming arriviste Liz Cheney, whom you may know by one of her WWE Raw fighting names (Baby Dick or Princess Snarlyface or Daddy’s Little Deferment or Not The Lesbian One, Yeah Her, That One) has had a very horrible not-good really-awful stepped-in-dog-shit-and-tracked-it-into-the-house kind of week. First she blowed up the entire holiday season, even Kwanzaa, for the Cheney Klan and now everyone is staying at their own homes on Thanksgiving and eating Marie Callendar Chicken Pot Pies instead of the traditional food that the pilgrims shared with the indigenous peoples of this continent before we gave them diphtheria, smallpox, and probably herpes, for dessert.
Why do the Cheney’s hate food, folks, and fun?
Then Liz Cheney couldn’t even choke down her chocoalate-mocha-peppermint-salted-chunks-o’puppy milkshake when someone brought up lady-on-lady sexytime in an interview:
In her black jeans and black sweater, with no campaign aide to monitor the interview or fend off intrusive questions, the 47-year-old Cheney seemed less an aspiring senator than a soccer mom happily juggling five kids and a tough new job. But then I asked Cheney about gay marriage, and she visibly stiffened. A frown came over her face, and she began jabbing her straw into her chocolate shake, which would go untouched for the rest of our conversation.