Ann Coulter is my mother, who ruined my life simply by
giving birth to me. Because of her genetics, I look exactly like her. I cannot
leave the house without a paper bag over my head, because the mere sight of my hideousness causes even the most sensible of people to instinctively
throw rocks at me or run away in terror. Children burst into tears when they see me.
I was not married by the time I was fifteen, as I'm so repugnant, which caused my father to send me off to a convent. I was routinely rebuked for singing and being late to dinner. Then I died.