ICECREAM ALL AROUND

Here it is, less than twelve hours to go, and that orange shit gibbon is still managing to piss people off. Except for his acolytes, of course.

Who cannot understand why staffers might have problems ever working again.

Or why all of a sudden My Pillow ain't selling like hotcakes.


Folks, if you voted for Trump, you're dumber than fenceposts. And, like Ellen Lee Zhou, you might be a Fundamentalist Christian. Maybe you even believe that tomorrow marks the beginning of the End-Times and the Tribulation, and you're praying fervently.

Or, like Lauren Boebert, you're a gun nut and seditionist.

Odious chief sycophant Lindsey Graham is desolate, bereft, inconsolable. No longer will he feel those spongy arms around him, the small small hands holding his head still, hear the hoarsely whispered "huge, huge", or enjoy the wondrous bigly covefe that servile obedience to his flabby orange master gave him. If he wants to have any influence at all during the rest of his rancid political career, he'll have to wag his tail for someone else.
It's sad. Very sad.



Oh well. Suck it up, traitors.



I'm not being very Christian.

Sorry.



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