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Scalia's death continues to be a source of joy for me. Never have I so often celebrated a man's death. I've been singing all day, punctuating the ends of each refrain by punching the air and shouting, "He's DEAD!", much to the consternation of my husband.


The conservative shits who started this horrifying case in an attempt to destroy unions literally BEGGED the appellate judge to rule against them.  They wanted to lose so they could take it to the Supreme Court faster and get the 5-4 ruling they craved.

Since the conservashits put up essentially no fight and asked to lose, The appellate court in California obligingly ruled against them, and the shitheads promptly filed a SCOTUS appeal.  (Note that this wasn't cheap--the California taxpayers had to fork out the money for the school district to go all the way to Washington.  Shitheads.)

In court, the shitheads made their case and listened with smug smiles while their boytoy Scalia barely asked them any questions, then did his best to excoriate the California teachers.  The shitheads left the courtroom with their hands down their trouser fronts.

And what happened?

SCALIA DIED before the Court could vote.

The shitheads BEGGED the lower court to rule against them, and with Scalia dead, the court got a 4-4 ruling.  That means the ruling the shitheads asked for, BEGGED for, remained standing. The shitheads screwed themselves royally.

Ohhh, I'm laughing and laughing and laughing.  The shitheads' web site is making mewling noises about how they're going to demand a rehearing, the fight isn't over, blah de blah de blah, but is ain't happening.  The Court won't re-hear the case until they get another justice (if they agree to re-hear it at all), and that justice is most likely going to lean toward labor.

The shitheads twisted themselves into a corner and crushed themselves while Scalia squirms around the wooden stake driven through his coffin.  Glee!
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