Dear John McCain,
Your judgment: I question the everloving hell out of it. Because your choice for running mate? Batshit. What kind of human being thinks this sort of thing?
This woman needs a conscience, but the ones we have won't do. Sending Jiminy Cricket would be like firing a six-shooter at the Death Star.* We would have to genetically engineer some sort of Jumbo Jiminy, some six-foot-tall hulking cricket with mega armor, who has traded in his umbrella for a bazooka and his spats in for cleats. And we would have to eliminate the need for sleep from him so he could keep an eye on her 24/7.
McCain, on the other hand, needs to go several rounds with the ClueMonster.
*And not even aiming at the weak point.
Not the full post, but you're only missing a few lines. QWP.