Last month Governor Pat Quinn was criticized for attending the Personal PAC ( Planned Parenthood's ATM)Honors Awards Banquet by the Catholic Bishops of Illinois. Personal PAC is all about funding abortions with State of Illinois dollars. Catholic Bishops and Catholics do not accept abortion as anything but the murder of a child.
Terry Cosgrove, President of Personal PAC/Gay Activist/Lawyer/State Employee, immeditely crafted the compelling narrative for the media - Cardinal George and the Catholic Bishops were being mean to a rape victim. Not so, but that is the spin.
The Bishops want another heart-to-heart with Pat Quinn who is already sponged and oiled by his cut-man Terry and the media. The Media is the editorial boards and iconic columnists who take up print space from reporters.
Pat Quinn, as well as the rape victim who is a Director of Personal PAC and helped Terry Cosgrove elect Quinn as Governor of Illinois, plays the martyr: Bishops are Catholic meanies and Quinn is a Christian Cupcake.
So, another round of chat and media Catholic bashing is set for the Christmas Holiday Season.
Mike Houlihan is an actor, author, film-maker and journalist. Houli is a pal of mine. This December's issue of Irish American News features Houli at his best- crafting a satirical sage that Un-PCs the hypocrisy that is a daily feature of Illinois public life and also a good swiftian kick in the dainty cookies* of Illinois Governor Pat Quinn - metaphorically and allegorically speaking to be sure.
I offer the Man in Full -Houli!
Malachy Swift was not a bit modest
about being a dog lover. He loved
his Irish Setter Finoola.
Malachy was so in love with
Finoola that he wanted to marry
her. After all, Malachy and Finoola
had been cohabitating for almost
a decade and that alone was evidence
of the integrity of their union.
They’d been together even longer in
dog years.
Actually it was dog years that
gave their romance that May-December
quality. Malachy was only
in his late twenties and had met
Finoola when she was a pup and
he was just graduating from high
school. So she was quite a bit older
than Malachy.
Malachy had invented a computer
application during college
and made a fortune on the Internet
matching up dates for the LGBT
crowd on his website, “Sockets &
Wenches.” He’d dabbled in the gay
lifestyle himself but soon grew
weary of the endless merry go
round. Malachy was curious about
inter-species affection.
One night while combing out
Finoola’s shiny red coat after an
Elton John concert at The United
Center they took their relationship
a step further. He put on a Johnny
Mathis record of Christmas songs
and poured a half bottle of Pinot
Grigio into Finoola’s bowl.
Before you knew it they were
both head over paws in love. Malachy
proposed the next night over
some milk bones and liver as he
placed a diamond collar around
Finoola’s neck and popped the
question. It was a modest proposal.
She said “Woof!” which Malachy
took as a yes.
The nuptials were delayed a bit
when they wouldn’t grant them
a marriage license at the County
Clerk’s Office. Malachy was not the
type of guy to wait though and he
immediately made a phone call to
his old friend the Governor.
The Governor sensed an opportunity
and insisted that Malachy come
for dinner at the Mansion the following
night. Malachy had donated
quite a bit of dough to the Gov’s
campaign because he believed in
his agenda of raising taxes and
increased abortions.
After a sumptuous dinner, the
two men sat smoking cigars and
sipping brandy in front of the fire
as Malachy made his pitch.
“This is very, very, very important
to me Governor. And to all of us
who crave inter species marriage.”
Are you looking for marriage to
all animals or just dogs?
“Well in my case it should be just
Irish setters and I know you’d be
on board with that because we’re
both Irish.”
Irish Catholics!
“Exactomondo! I suppose we
should include all dogs and most
farm animals as well.”
But Malachy, let’s please exclude
pigs so we don’t piss off any
Muslims.
“By the way, Governor, I must ask
you. What was that delicious dish
we had for an appetizer tonight? I
don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything
so succulent or sweet.”
I thought you’d enjoy those
Malachy. Those are baby fingers
and toes. Planned Parenthood sends
them over by the truckload. I got the
recipe from the White House chef at
the Inauguration Ball. You can only
use first trimester babies because
those are the most tender.
“Well they are just scrumptious.“
The Governor clinked his glass
with Malachy and the two agreed
that the next day legislation would
be introduced to legalize inter-species
marriage throughout the state.
Malachy thanked the Governor
and made out a $500,000 check, on
behalf of his organization Privacy
PAC, to the Committee to re-elect
the Governor. Privacy PAC is committed
to electing legislators who
support animal husbandry.
The two shook hands and Malachy said, “I’d like to get married
in church, but I have a feeling
that might be a problem.”
Not if you go to my priest, Father
Larry, over in Oak Park.
“Oh, did he officiate at your
marriage?”
Uh, no Malachy, actually I’m
…divorced.
“Was she a bitch?”
Well, she wasn’t an Irish
Setter.
A well placed kick to the Jacobs can often have salabrious effect upon a man in great need of re-thinking his point of view and publc posture. The Catholic Bishops of Illinois might be well-served having Mike Houlihan along as a consultant and avoid another bait-and-switch from a politician who uses Catholic when it suits him.
However, if the politician's said Jacobs have been well-oiled with Novocaine, those numbed anatomical twin orbs will not register the well-placed and powerful punt.
The rest of us get it.
Jacobs - Cockney rhyming slang - Jacob's Cream Crackers = knackers/cookies/reproductive vessles.
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