Profile: Patrick Fitzgerald: Pussy

This whole Scoo-Lib thing has been a bitter disappointment. Everybody always said that Libby's prosecutor, Patrick Fitzgerald, was such a tough guy, top notch G-man, T-man, straight-shooter, and steely-eyed arbiter of western justice. I disagree! Sure, he's tough when it comes to leaning on a wimpy media creme puff like Matt Cooper. Sure he'll put Judy Miller behind bars and enjoy it. But when it comes to the Vice President, or Senior White House Official, Karl Rove, men physically and emotionally dripping with the mucous of guilt––serious crimes––where's mister tough-guy then? Quivering, shaking in his boots, and staining his BV's with the brick of fear. Let's be serious, you could convict Cheney of dozens of crimes and misdemeanors by opening one of his file drawers and reaching in. You wouldn't even need to be a lawyer. Give Cheney a breathalyzer test and he'd come up guilty of treason. The jury wouldn't have to deliberate more than a minute. Where's justice?!