When Mississippi sends their people, they're not sending their best. They're sending rapists, they're sending people that have a lot of problems, they're sending drug addicts, criminals, and crazies. Some of them are probably good folks, but mostly it's trash. To whom, because they haven't funded mental health programs, they give one way tickets to San Francisco.
Just like Florida did a generation ago when aids hit.
And, because of that, there is a thin man wearing a canary yellow bustier, a medium blue teeshirt, and a bright red tutu in front of my doorway RIGHT NOW, fixing his bike. And angrily emoting.
He's from Mississippi. And I want him to go back.
Stop doing that, you Trumpite mofos.
Take care of your own damn' losers.
We. Don't. Want. Them.
Yellow bustier.
Blue teeshirt.
A red tutu.
You know, if the only natives of Mississippi I meet are addicts, that will influence how I look at your state and its people. Are they ALL scum? Diseased? Crazy? Desperate? Irredeemable wreckage?
Yellow bustier. Blue Tee. Red too too.
Trumplandia.
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