If you're a faithful reader, you know that we cats loathe and despise the White House Correspondents' Dinner. We haven't changed our minds, so once again we treated last night's dreaded return like the Oscars: Why waste precious hours of our nine lives watching the wretched thing when we can read about it in three minutes the next morning?
Our requisite three minutes over Sunday doughnuts and coffee have taught us that the Trumpsters — and, unaccountably, some journalists — are up in arms about Michelle Wolf's treatment of Sarah Huckabee Sanders. You know Sarah: She's that allegedly Christian girl who's in a passel of trouble with Jesus for all the lying she does.
Call us unimpressed. We're not sure what Sanders expected when she agreed to take the slings and arrows for her boss last night, but if she thought she wasn't going to get roasted, she was sadly misinformed. We're constantly amazed at the right wing's inability to take what they routinely dish out. May they be haunted nightly by the ghost of Lee Atwater as penance.
As for the umbrage-y journos, here's our take: They're more upset about Wolf rightly calling them out on Trump. "He couldn't sell steaks or vodka or water or college or ties or Eric," she jibed. "But he has helped you...sell your papers and your books and your TV. You helped create this monster and now you're profiting off him." This has gotten deeply under their skins, and they're using the Sanders jokes as a smokescreen.
It's also dawned on us that we could reasonably blame the WHCD for today's entire hideous Presidency — that is, if you believe the stories that Trump resolved to run after Barack Obama destroyed him from the WHCD podium in 2011. Even more reason to never, ever, EVER hold this ridiculous event again. We cats HISS.
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