Spinning his wheels
Pandemic, recession, Russian election interference, record-setting temperatures, fires...
First things first.
"Don't buy GOODYEAR TIRES -- They announced a BAN ON MAGA HATS. Get better tires for far less. (This is what the Radical Left Democrats do. Two can play the same game, and we have to start playing it now!")
A message from The Real Donald Trump, of course. Still waiting for the picture of Ivanka holding up a set of Bridgestone Duelers. Fact check: Goodyear has banned all employees from wearing political hats at work, probably to promote workplace harmony and prevent fistfights. Customers are free to wear whatever they like. Heavily armed MAGAts are asked not to shoot at the Goodyear Blimp. Please do not burn piles of Goodyear tires to express your displeasure. Trump and his EPA are perfectly capable of fouling the air without your help.
Apparently irony was suspended for twenty-four hours, during which Trump tweeted "SAVE THE POST OFFICE!" and James Comey posed in a shirt that said "ELECT MORE WOMEN." Hillary Clinton had no words but shared a picture of her "Go fuck yourself with a rusty sickle" face.
The Democratic Party has a new star today, Jacquelyn Asbie. She's not running for office, she runs an elevator in the New York Times building. (Yes, they still have elevator operators, like sweet Miss Kubiak in The Apartment.) Asbie met Joe Biden one day and he treated her as if she was important. "He saw me," she said as she nominated him for president last night. They spoke. There was a selfie. "In all these years David Brooks never even said 'good morning,'" she didn't have to add. I've had mixed feelings about Biden, his spotty record as a senator, his sentimentality, his awful slogan ("Build Back Better" sounds like something rejected by Home Depot). I was always going to vote for him -- I'd vote for Marianne Williamson if she was the only viable alternative to the Russian puppet. Now I feel a little better about it.
The two soldiers who appeared in last night's roll-call video from American Samoa are being investigated for wearing their uniforms to a "partisan political event," the same camouflage that General Milley wore for the Trump Bible stunt last June. Of course, they're privates ("specialists"), not generals. They're also masked, so good luck, Espy.
After ninety-two years it's still an event when the Democrats (it's always the Democrats) nominate a Catholic for president. In 1928 evangelicals ranted that Al Smith's election would usher in the domination of "rum and Rome," and even that Smith would construct a tunnel from the White House to the Vatican so the pope could drop in and supervise his administration. (Protestant fundamentalists lost their minds long before Trump.) The difference in 2020 is that the abuse is coming from inside the church. Attention-seeking clerics are attacking Biden, like John Kerry before him, for supporting abortion rights, questioning whether he really is a Catholic. I suppose we need a term equivalent to "birthers" for those who want to see his real baptismal certificate. Fine, endorse the adulterous pussy-grabber, Cardinal Burke -- that should bring nothing but honor to your church, especially since you can't even get along with your pope.
Late today we finally got a Trump diagnosis from a medical doctor, David Reiss, and it's just as I suspected: "serious clinical question of psychotic megalomania...quasi-delusional...unfit and very dangerous." All because Trump finally came out as a full-blown Q Qrazy. "I don't know much about the movement other than I understand they like me very much." Even with "conspiracy-theory driven domestic extremists" (the FBI's description), it's all about him.
This will be the longest four months in any nation's history.
First things first.
"Don't buy GOODYEAR TIRES -- They announced a BAN ON MAGA HATS. Get better tires for far less. (This is what the Radical Left Democrats do. Two can play the same game, and we have to start playing it now!")
A message from The Real Donald Trump, of course. Still waiting for the picture of Ivanka holding up a set of Bridgestone Duelers. Fact check: Goodyear has banned all employees from wearing political hats at work, probably to promote workplace harmony and prevent fistfights. Customers are free to wear whatever they like. Heavily armed MAGAts are asked not to shoot at the Goodyear Blimp. Please do not burn piles of Goodyear tires to express your displeasure. Trump and his EPA are perfectly capable of fouling the air without your help.
Apparently irony was suspended for twenty-four hours, during which Trump tweeted "SAVE THE POST OFFICE!" and James Comey posed in a shirt that said "ELECT MORE WOMEN." Hillary Clinton had no words but shared a picture of her "Go fuck yourself with a rusty sickle" face.
The Democratic Party has a new star today, Jacquelyn Asbie. She's not running for office, she runs an elevator in the New York Times building. (Yes, they still have elevator operators, like sweet Miss Kubiak in The Apartment.) Asbie met Joe Biden one day and he treated her as if she was important. "He saw me," she said as she nominated him for president last night. They spoke. There was a selfie. "In all these years David Brooks never even said 'good morning,'" she didn't have to add. I've had mixed feelings about Biden, his spotty record as a senator, his sentimentality, his awful slogan ("Build Back Better" sounds like something rejected by Home Depot). I was always going to vote for him -- I'd vote for Marianne Williamson if she was the only viable alternative to the Russian puppet. Now I feel a little better about it.
The two soldiers who appeared in last night's roll-call video from American Samoa are being investigated for wearing their uniforms to a "partisan political event," the same camouflage that General Milley wore for the Trump Bible stunt last June. Of course, they're privates ("specialists"), not generals. They're also masked, so good luck, Espy.
After ninety-two years it's still an event when the Democrats (it's always the Democrats) nominate a Catholic for president. In 1928 evangelicals ranted that Al Smith's election would usher in the domination of "rum and Rome," and even that Smith would construct a tunnel from the White House to the Vatican so the pope could drop in and supervise his administration. (Protestant fundamentalists lost their minds long before Trump.) The difference in 2020 is that the abuse is coming from inside the church. Attention-seeking clerics are attacking Biden, like John Kerry before him, for supporting abortion rights, questioning whether he really is a Catholic. I suppose we need a term equivalent to "birthers" for those who want to see his real baptismal certificate. Fine, endorse the adulterous pussy-grabber, Cardinal Burke -- that should bring nothing but honor to your church, especially since you can't even get along with your pope.
Late today we finally got a Trump diagnosis from a medical doctor, David Reiss, and it's just as I suspected: "serious clinical question of psychotic megalomania...quasi-delusional...unfit and very dangerous." All because Trump finally came out as a full-blown Q Qrazy. "I don't know much about the movement other than I understand they like me very much." Even with "conspiracy-theory driven domestic extremists" (the FBI's description), it's all about him.
This will be the longest four months in any nation's history.
posted by Buttermilk Sky at 4:59 PM
2 Comments:
As to the longest 4 months thing , get back to me on November 452nd. Piece o' cake I tells ya
>>This will be the longest four months in any nation's history.<<
I hope you're right, but that really depends on who's living in the White House at the end of January. If things don't go well, the next four years could feel like four hundred.
By the way, I couldn't see the Spec patches on the uniforms of either of those two soldiers in the American Samoa clip, but I'll take your word for their rank. Alas, I was able to read the name tag on one of them. Let's hope nobody hangs those two kids out to dry for doing what a general did in as casually as somebody might kiss a certain president's ass.
Yours very crankily,
The New York Crank
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