I submit to you, a Nexus of Control between Hannity, the Log Cabin boys, and the Proud Boys. Rice-a-Roni and fresh sweet corn? The fresher the better? Flex fuel? E85, engine valves chattering on a freight train bound for Socialist hell?
Dare we all wear the same shirt in a show of mass psychosis?
And Lee J Cobb got on the blog again.
The Dem hoax, a cobb basically stuck in Trump's throat, now? Anderson "shining that sumbitch up" and about to turn it sideways? Would it speed up our stimulus, or do we let the economy choke on fumes these next few?
Don't think I didn't notice what no one else did: Biden called this "the Trump recession", being as opportunistic as Bill Clinton using Hurricane Andrew to bludgeon Bush 41 back in 1992.
And look at me in my Plymouth Valiant, tearing ass on my own path. You call your future a "path" by the way, in the Buddhist vernacular. I have vim for my own path most of the time, knowing there are so many possibilities, even despite the world around me.
I guess, I could become a GOP member even without supporting Trump, thinking that the party is sacrificing its future, "burning political capital", for the sake of a few insignificant little mole hills today.
But I do wish Chump well, for true, continued good health, even if I haven't chosen how to vote in November. Non-violence, and all that? Real compassion, even for the fat cats that are unable to feel that same sympathy in return. They are people, too. They have souls, and those souls are to be contended for, just like everyone else.
No comments:
Post a Comment