Although I’ve written many books and columns, I’ve never gotten
totally personal and bared my innermost thoughts about, well, the real me.
I haven’t been, as my old drinking buddy Tupac Shakur was so fond of
saying, “Keepin’ it real.”
Although I may seem harsh, confrontational, difficult, a little
bitchy, shifty-eyed and maybe even scary sometimes, I’m actually quite fragile.
Those who know me best would say that on most days I’m actually warm and fuzzy.
A couple of times during the 2012 election I was even touchie/feelie.
As a young girl growing up in Connecticut, needless to say I was
always the tallest person in my class. And the skinniest. Kids made fun of me
for being a gawky beanpole. They nicknamed me The Countess Anorexia Nervosa.
I learned to deal with their barbs by fighting them with words, my
fists and occasionally with knives. My weapon of choice then, and now, is the
stiletto, a dagger with a very slim blade intended for thrusting. Still the
best knife to kill someone with. It efficiently pierces the heart when words
can’t do the job.
For dress-up I enjoy the classic dagger, a double-sheathed knife
intended for stabbing. It fits comfortably into any Prada handbag.
Because of my height I never dreamt the dreams of typical high school
girls in the late-seventies. Because I was taller than everyone I ruled out
boyfriends.
I lost myself in music and television. Back then my biggest fantasies
were to be like Farrah Fawcett on Charlie’s Angels or to be a back-up singer for Tina Turner, despite
the fact that I’m really white and blonde and I have no ass.
Yes. I sing.
In fact, I rock!
Many people have compared my voice to a cross between Tammy Wynette
and Wayne Newton before he reached puberty. And it’s Cher to whom I wear my
hair in tribute.
Cher, you are a
half-breed/gypsies/tramp and thieves Goddess!
Although my height caused me pain during adolescence, it paid off
because I won a basketball scholarship to Cornell. Not only was I the tallest
person on the girl’s hoop team, but the boys team as well.
It was during my freshman year in college in 1979 that I found my
direction in life. I realized that I wanted to be a lawyer, syndicated
columnist, pundit and a model for leg fetish magazines. I took a liking to
short skirts that showed off my fabulous legs and high-heeled shoes that showed
off my amazing size-17 feet.
By the time I graduated from law school, I’d long ago
abandoned the
ephemeral musings of an adolescent girl and developed the cutting edge persona
of a self-possessed woman with degrees, friends in high places and an unstoppable
pre-menstrual cycle that lasted twenty-three days.
Now, as the 2016 Presidential election looms, Karl Rove has secretly reached
out to me with the news that he wants me to be the Vice Presidential running
mate to the next candidate of the Republican Party. Certain that Hillary Rodham
Clinton will be the Democrat nominee, they feel that a strong woman will have a
better shot at defeating her.
As the 2016 Republican candidate for Vice President, my past will be
up for grabs by the evil Democrat spin machine. So, as my friend Oliver North
advised me, I’m going to make the first strike and set the record straight
about three things:
1.
Who I am
2.
Who I was
3.
Who I hope to
be
I’ll be answering the hard questions, confronting the tough issues and
in memory of my friend Tupac Shakur, keepin’ it real.
True dat!
This
work is a spoof. Its entire contents are the products of the author’s
imagination and were not written by, and do not represent the thoughts,
feelings and actual experiences of, Ann Coulter.
