If you have the Facebook or the Twitter, you have likely seen somebody repost an article along the lines of “Why Hillary Clinton Should Take A Hike And Go Away And Shut Up Forever.” If you clicked on it, you know what it said. If you didn’t, you still know what it said.
Despite how at least 10 men have been struck with the completely original idea of writing a Tumblr-quality screed about STFU HILLARY OMG, she, defiant as always, has not notified her publisher that she wishes to cancel the release of her book, What Happened, and moreover, she hasn’t notified her real estate agent that would like to purchase a cave at the bottom of the sea to live in for the rest of her days, so she doesn’t offend anyone ever again. You may pre-order your copy of said book right here!
PFFFFFFFFT, Hillary. Like anybody’s going to read her dumb book, which we ordered today. Probably just gonna give it to the Wonka-dog and watch her judgmentally refuse to even chew it up, since it’s probably just a bunch of secret Goldman Sachs speeches anyway.
Anyway, Vogue has a really nice new excerpt! (Click here for the last excerpts we wrote about!) In it, H. Rodham writes about her marriage to B. Clinton, why she hasn’t acceded to many people’s requests that she divorce him, and what it was like having him by her side in the hours after she “lost” the election. (Those are our “quotation marks,” lest one of the self-appointed arbiters of Hillary Clinton’s behavior find himself in a tizzy because SHE’S NOT TAKING RESPONSIBILI-TAH!!!!@!!1!!1benghazi!!!!)
Not only is Hillary Clinton not divorcing Bill Clinton, she says she’d make the same decision she made in 1975 to marry him if she had it to do all over again. And don’t worry, because it’s DEFINITELY your business, she addresses the elephant in the room, assuming we’re in a 1990s room with an elephant:
I know some people wonder why we’re still together. I heard it again in the 2016 campaign: that “we must have an arrangement” (we do; it’s called a marriage); …
By which she means fuck you.
… that I helped him become president and then stayed so he could help me become president (no); that we lead completely separate lives, and it’s just a marriage on paper now (he is reading this over my shoulder in our kitchen with our dogs underfoot, and in a minute he will reorganize our bookshelves for the millionth time, which means I will not be able to find any of my books, and once I learn the new system, he’ll just redo it again, but I don’t mind because he really loves to organize those bookshelves).
Oh man, that would piss us off. Remind us to NEVER marry Bill Clinton, lest he start rearranging shit constantly.
Instead of re-litigating when and how many times Bill Clinton bang-sexed a lady what was not his wife, Hillz talks about all the millions of great things in her marriage, not least of which are their daughter and grandchildren. She notes that she and Bill definitely made that happen, and moreover, that she still REALLY LIKES HIM:
He has a temper, but he’s never mean. And he’s funny, friendly, unflappable in the face of mishaps and inconveniences, and easily delighted by the world—remember those balloons at the convention? He is fabulous company.
But come ON, Hillz, can’t we stick our faces in your private marriage life some more, because we are entitled to do that?
We’ve certainly had dark days in our marriage. You know all about them—and please consider for a moment what it would be like for the whole world to know about the worst moments in your relationship.
The excerpt ends with Clinton sharing how she spent the hours after she gave her concession speech, dressed in purple, as was Bill:
It takes about an hour to drive from Manhattan to our home in Chappaqua. I absolutely love our old house. […] All I wanted to do was get inside, change into comfy clothes, and maybe not answer the phone ever again.
She says she wore yoga pants and a fleece that day and slept a lot and that she was “grateful for the one billionth time that [she] had a husband who was good company not just in happy times but sad ones as well.” (When she says “happy times,” she means when she is doing Benghazi with her emails in the #Pizzagate basement with the haint of Vince Foster, probably.)
We are so excited for our book to arrive in the mail! Aren’t you? If you’re not, be sure to fill out a comment card and send it to Eat Me at Your Mom dot com.
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