Wonkette

• Su Lin? Straight up OWNED. Butterstick? Currently keeping scientists busy recalibrating all known measures of cuteness. MORE »

Remember when Randy the Duke-Stir made his teary-eyed and pussified apology to helping himself to his ill-gotten booty? In that moment, he wept, he knew “great shame.” “I will forfeit my freedom, my reputation, all my worldly possessions and most importantly the trust of my friends and family,” he said in a quivering voice. We always thought is was interesting the order in which the thoughts of his losses occurred to him. Still, it seemed like something was missing. MORE »

The adolescent careers of those involved in Abramoffukkah continue to be a source of fascination, and, today, we turn our attention to its nakesake himself. Jack Abramoff was evincing the skills and creative flair for all things fast and loose at quite a young age. At Beverly Hills High, he was renowned for his “power squat” — surely the best euphenism for lobbying we’ve ever heard that doesn’t involve an oral-anal connection — and for his uniquely ironic fundraising efforts: for instance, a quarter-pounder eating contest with proceeds going to the American Cancer Society. MORE »

After posting about the young Michael Scanlon’s bizarre hormonal explorations, we were sent a note from another of his contemporaries who experienced his high school reign of terror. Wishing to remain anonymous out of concern for a future of peaceful area shopping, our tipster assures us: “I can completely vouch for this. I was one of the black-clad girls he tormented at WJ (I was 5′ 6″ in high school, though, so he didn’t mess with me much — he mostly went after the shorter girls).” MORE »

Yesterday, making another appearance of his world tour of the American judicial system, Jack Abramoff softened his mafioso-chic fashions of the previous day and tilted ever so WASP-ward, fashion-wise, donning a tan baseball cap. Frankly, with the always unpleasant cap-and-suit combo and the fleshy scowl, he’s a pageboy haircut away from a not-half-bad Pete Rose costume. MORE »

We heard this little delightful story from a Wonkette operative this morning: MORE »

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Funny thing about most politicians: they spend the bulk of their careers campaigning, tirelessly attempting to impress upon their constituents that their keen minds are indispensible. But as we often see, when it suits them, they suddenly pivot and, quite frankly, pretend to lack the intelligence that God bequeaths to the average handful of tulip bulbs.

“How on earth did my dick comes to be confined within that person’s mouth?” they ask, continuing, “But all the newspapers said that everyone in New Orleans were totally fine!” pausing only to add, “Who would have thought that, in laying out specific anti-terrorist powers, the Congress didn’t actually grant me the authority to use all these other powers that they didn’t specifically lay out on a carte blanche basis?”

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As we approach the coming of Abramoffukkah, we learn more and more about the origin story behind the scandal. It goes something like this: Our parents always told us that the problem with Washington was that with all the lobbyists and special interests and money moving hither and yon, there was too much skin in the game. Now we learn that most of that skin was wrapped around the manyly bone structure and vital internal organs of Jack Abramoff, who may have influence-peddled his way into the bosom of a considerable number of well-heeled politicos.

We only have Abramoff on the hook today because his partner, Michael Scanlon, rolled on him. And, as Raw Story reported today, we may only know about Michael Scanlon because of a jilted former lover, Emily Miller, who avenged herself after Scanlon took up with a manicurist by going to the FBI and dropping the proverbial dime. You may remember Miller from the time she famously attempted to prematurely end a Meet The Press interview with Colin Powell.

But wait, it gets even more enjoyable.

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