Ann Coulter Rides Off into the Sunset on Herself

A Horse's Ass Is A Horse's Ass, of Course, of Course

IGHT WINGNUT Ann Coulter, whose latest book excoriates the 9/11 widows from New Jersey as "harpies" who are merely capitalizing on their husband's tragic deaths, morphed yesterday into a complete horse's ass as she stood before a book club audience at a Barnes and Noble in Rapid City, South Dakota.

Barnes and Noble customer Sandy Grishnell, who happened to be browsing through books during Coulter's visit, said she became distracted by "this horrible yelling sound of a very deep female voice, followed by a series of hooves stomping. I looked over to where the podium was, and I saw this giant horse hind end just staring back at me. Well, not staring I guess, just standing there with a swishing tail. Everyone was shocked."

As news of Coulter's transformation spread, Bill Maher of "Politically Incorrect" and "Real Time" fame offered his recollections of the shrill conservative.

Said Maher, "My producers would always give me a hard time about inviting Ann on the show. They'd say to me, 'Bill, she is SUCH a horse's ass, what do you possibly see in her?' And look, they were right, and I was wrong, I freely admit it. "

Maher continued, "And let me tell you something. I'm always giving it to the Christians in this country who believe in the Bible literally. I've always said, 'it's a book of fairy tales, people.' But to see something like this happen in our own day, it's amazing. Maybe fairy tales can come true."

Literally hundreds of paparazzi and curious townspeople hounded the horse's ass for miles out of city limits, until finally she came to a restless standstill, gazing as it were over the great, untamed expanse of the South Dakota Badlands.

As camera shutters madly clicked to record the fantastic scene, an onlooker stepped out of the crowd and planted a whip firmly on the right cheek of the horse's ass. Rearing up, the ass galloped wildly off into the forbidding Badlands, leaving a mound of manure where she had stood.

"Now this we can use," said one local.