Mark Steyn sings GOLDFINGER!!!11!1

Warning. You do not want to get inside Mark Steyn’s head. Believe me. As if National Review writers don’t come with twisted personalities standard, he’s got his own special problems.

In American pop-culture terms, [Putin] is a faintly ridiculous figure, with his penchant for homoerotic shirtlessness, his nipples entering the room like an advance security team…

I’m trying to come up with a term for whatever this is. What do you call political arguments that all eventually end up at the crotch? Dongthink?

Goldie Hawn was in the crowd when Putin, for no apparent reason, sang “I found my thrill on Blueberry Hill,” which Goldie seemed to enjoy. In reality, Putin finds his thrill by grabbing Obama’s blueberries and squeezing hard.

Yep, he’s a dongpundit.

The late Milton Berle, when challenged on his rumored spectacular endowment, was wont to respond that he would only take out just enough to win. In London, Kerry took out just enough to lose.

Umm Porky? That makes no sense.

In the Obama era, to modify Teddy Roosevelt, America chatters unceasingly and carries an unbelievably small stick.

But it’s all piquant in light of Mark’s lifelong obsession with the theater. That’s right – the theatah.

In this, the wily Putin saw an opening, and offered a “plan” so absurd that even Obama’s court eunuchs in the media had difficulty swallowing it.

Oh master of the sex non-sequitur, you are a gratuitous ooze of musk. And though he’s Canadian Mark has done a righteous job of perfecting a ponce English accent. So let it out, bitch. Sing the theme from Goldfinger already, or something. Oh Christ he did:

Mark makes Noel Coward sound like Danzig. A real-life queer would never come off so womanly.

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