Fairy Tales to Comfort Liberals in This Time of Agony and Despair

artistic christmas cold fairy tale
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

The Three Little Crooked Pigs

Lindsey, Chuck, and Mitch were afraid of the Big Bad Blue Wave Wolf.

“We will build houses,” they oinked.

Lindsey built the House of Representatives out of straw votes.

Chuck built the Senate out of sticks and stones.

Mitch built the Supreme Court out of bullshit.

The Big Bad Blue Wave Wolf appeared.

“I’m going to blow you bastards down,” she roared.

She huffed and puffed, and puffed and huffed

And blew all three pigs into retirement. The end.

 

The Ginger Brett Man

You can’t catch me, the pudgy dough boy sniffed, I’m the Ginger Brett Man.

I can drink beers and assault women and lie under oath

I can bully and bluster and brag about busting my butt

And no one will catch me.

Not the Dems, not Avenatti, not the failing New York Times, not my law school friends who turned on me, not …

Suddenly, salivating Fox News slunk by, greedy for a tasty morsel.  Before he could say STOP IT’S ME YOU IDIOT, snip, snap, Ginger Brett Man was gobbled up and never seen again.

 

Goldilocks and the Three Soulless Senator Bears

Goldilocks happened upon a cottage in the woods. It belonged to three Senator Bears: Susan, Jeff and Joe.

She knocked on the door. No answer. They were out pretending to sympathize with sexual assault victims, so she let herself in.

I’m hungry, she thought, and helped herself to a bowl of porridge that was not too hot, not too cold, just right wing.

I’m tired, she sighed as she sat down in a chair that was not too hard, not too soft, but reeked with the stench of rotting politicians.

I’m sleepy, she yawned, and found three beds. The first one was too big. The second, too small. The third, morally unbalanced. It collapsed with her in it.

She stood up and dusted herself off. “This place is a shit hole,” she said, slammed the door, and left.

 

Little Red States Riding Hood and the Wolf Blitzer

Little Red States Riding Hood was on her way over the river and through the woods to take cookies to her grandmother.

“I must be careful,” she said to herself. “Mother warned me about a blue tsunami.”

Wolf Blitzer, lurking in the shadows, waited patiently. He wanted an exclusive interview.

He bounded ahead to grandmother’s house and kicked her out because she watched Fox News.

“Come in, little girl,” he beseeched from under the covers when Red States arrived.

“Grandma,” said Red States, “What big eyes you have.”

Wolf tore off his bedclothes and pulled out a mike. “Come in for a closeup, boys,” he called. He faced the camera. “I am in the Situation Room with Red States,” he said. ”Red States. On trial. Tonight, on CNN.”

 

Cinderkellyanne

Cinderkellyanne desperately wanted to go to the Battle of Bowling Green Ball. Her step-sisters laughed uproariously.

“You can’t go to the ball. You don’t have a personality to wear,” said one.

“No way,” said the second. “You must stay here and practice telling alternate truths.”

Cinderkellyanne sobbed. “Woe is me.  I want to go to the ball and hear people blame everything on Obama. Oh, I wish I could be a fly on the wall.”

Poof! A fairy godmother appeared, and with a swish of her magic wand and the words bibbity bobbity do, turned Cinderkellyanne into a common housefly that spent the rest of its life being swatted by Washington insiders.

 

Snow White and the Seven Drumpfs

Snow White skipped down the lane into the forest, singing gaily as she picked flowers. She stopped in her tracks when she espied seven drumpfs: Sleazy, Stupid, Sicko, Slimy, Stumpy, Smarmy, and Covfefe.

“What the hell … “she began.

“I can grab your pussy,” said Sleazy.

“I feel sorry for young men today,” said Stupid.

“I get numbers at my rallies the likes of which no one has ever seen before,” said Smarmy.

Snow White gazed at the hateful little men. She knelt down next to Slimy.

“You have toilet paper on your shoe,” she whispered.

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