Sherry Glaser was, of course, in attendance.
This woman just creeps me out. Seriously, there seems to be something wrong with her. I visited her website and found a rather interesting blog entry, written November 20 of last year, in which she storms into a military recruiter's office and demands him to make the troops stop raping and murdering innocent people (emphasis mine):
A couple of weeks ago Breasts Not Bombs staged a demonstration outside the Military recruitment center in Ukiah, California because we feel that office is the first introduction to our young men and women as to what it means to be a soldier. We felt the need to find the root and address the aberrant and excessive violence that has led our military to commit war crimes like rape and murder. Though there were ten of us on the street that day, we opted not to take our shirts off. We blamed it on the weather and well, it was a major street and we had concern about traffic. But the truth is I was afraid. Afraid to bare my breasts to again be subject to judgement and ridicule for my outrageous behavior and my bountiful bosom. Although it was a spirited and well supported action, It felt disappointing. We even took the opportunity to go into the recruitment office and converse with the Sergeant in charge. Although he could not take responsibility for the troops run amok or even point me in the direction of those who might be, besides a "few bad apples." It felt like we built a bridge. He could see our humanity and we could see his. We were civil, kind and very calm. But, inside I'm bursting with terrible rage and sorrow. It's so strong that I'm compelled to tear off my shirt, pull out my hair and weep. Yes, it's dramatic, but it feels like this really is an emergency. I mean why is so unacceptable to bare my breasts. Why does the public at large have such a definitive and immediate reaction to my flesh, but the death of 2,900 American Soldiers and upwards of 200,000 Iraqi's elicits little response. Every day that our government debates and hem and haws there are REAL PEOPLE being violently killed.
What keeps me under wraps is also the simple size of my breasts, how they look. They are enormous, yes. It feels like I am carrying the sorrow of the world right under my nose. I wonder if so much of the breast cancer we are seeing is the unexpressed grief of this world. I dream of weeping, bare breasted with a million other women on the White House Lawn. I long for a world wide weep. Why are women kept in such restraint. What is so scary about our breasts.
This woman is so severely unhinged!
Look, lady, it isn't like Anna Kournikova or Jessica Alba is standing there with their tops off. No offense, but there is no one that wants to see your breasts! No one! You aren't a spring chicken anymore. It isn't all women's breasts that are scary, just yours.
And of course, there's the standard liberal line about how our troops are rapists and murderers. I would love it if she said that to me. Love it.
Her entire rambling post just goes to show how moonbats work and think. Not to mention, I don't think she could go a single sentence without butchering it grammatically.
I just don't get it, what is it that makes people take her seriously?! And she cries about how terrified she is of baring her gigantic, droopy breasts, but she does it... all the time. Whenever she has the opportunity to, actually. Yeah, she's terrified, all right.
And on top of the craziness, she thinks Shrillary is not far left enough? My God. I'd hate to think of what her ideal candidate would be like.
Hat Tip: Moonbattery, who so graciously added red bars to the picture below.