As I sit here, on the Legal Holiday That We Get Because Christmas Was on a Sunday This Year (I really don’t know what else to call it) my thoughts are dwelling on the Christmas wishes the ex-Caucasian-in-Chief recently bestowed upon the nation he formerly, and half-assedly, led for four years.
I’m no huge fan of Christmas myself, mostly because I hate the traffic and the music, but I endure it until the ho-ho-hoing stops and the cold, credit-card balance viewing depression of January sets in. I don’t blast the airwaves with bitter harangues about “Radical Left Marxists who are trying to destroy our Country,” among other things.
For those of you who don’t know what a radical left Marxist is, and that includes just about all of you who fling around the term like it was the pickleball of cutting insults, it merely means someone who didn’t vote for Trump at least twice.
The FBI comes in for some abuse, as does the “Social and Lame Stream Media,” whom the Tangerine Tyrant accuses of ‘pushing for a mentally disabled Democrat (here he is frothing about the current President) over the Brilliant, Clairvoyant and USA-LOVING Donald J Trump.” (Random capitalization all by the Stable Genius)
You might be thinking that clairvoyant is a strong word to describe a person who blackmailed Ukraine for political favors and begged for fake votes from Georgia on recorded lines, and never looked at Cassidy Hutchinson in her office down the hall from the Oval one and thought, “That girl is going to dime me out to the Select Committee someday,” and you would be right, but this is the sort of baked-in batshittery that Trump serves us in lieu of Christmas cookies.
America’s Ex finishes off his Christmas fury with a blast at “the Special Prosecutor’ who, together with his wife and family, HATES ’Trump’ more than any other person on earth.”
This sentence, once you get passed the oddly-moored quotation marks, is enough to give anybody pause. If I had known hating Trump was a contest, I’d have entered it long ago, especially if there were cash prizes involved. I don’t know how you would quantify hate for Trump in order to make the competition fair. Hate grams? Hate joules? Cubits of hate? I’m sure it would be near as difficult as winning the lottery, though. For all the distaste I can muster for Trump, there’s probably another guy who has a full-size voodoo doll of the Ex in his basement and kicks it in the genitals every day while screaming obscenities. He’s going to be favored over me.
Meantime, the mentally disabled guy put out a message for peace on Earth and unity among Americans. It’s treacly and possibly insincere (you can read it here) but, hey, that’s what we expect out of our politicians at Christmas.
Not the airing of grievances. Christ, you’d think Trump was celebrating Festivus.
I’m no huge fan of Christmas myself, mostly because I hate the traffic and the music, but I endure it until the ho-ho-hoing stops and the cold, credit-card balance viewing depression of January sets in. I don’t blast the airwaves with bitter harangues about “Radical Left Marxists who are trying to destroy our Country,” among other things.
For those of you who don’t know what a radical left Marxist is, and that includes just about all of you who fling around the term like it was the pickleball of cutting insults, it merely means someone who didn’t vote for Trump at least twice.
The FBI comes in for some abuse, as does the “Social and Lame Stream Media,” whom the Tangerine Tyrant accuses of ‘pushing for a mentally disabled Democrat (here he is frothing about the current President) over the Brilliant, Clairvoyant and USA-LOVING Donald J Trump.” (Random capitalization all by the Stable Genius)
You might be thinking that clairvoyant is a strong word to describe a person who blackmailed Ukraine for political favors and begged for fake votes from Georgia on recorded lines, and never looked at Cassidy Hutchinson in her office down the hall from the Oval one and thought, “That girl is going to dime me out to the Select Committee someday,” and you would be right, but this is the sort of baked-in batshittery that Trump serves us in lieu of Christmas cookies.
America’s Ex finishes off his Christmas fury with a blast at “the Special Prosecutor’ who, together with his wife and family, HATES ’Trump’ more than any other person on earth.”
This sentence, once you get passed the oddly-moored quotation marks, is enough to give anybody pause. If I had known hating Trump was a contest, I’d have entered it long ago, especially if there were cash prizes involved. I don’t know how you would quantify hate for Trump in order to make the competition fair. Hate grams? Hate joules? Cubits of hate? I’m sure it would be near as difficult as winning the lottery, though. For all the distaste I can muster for Trump, there’s probably another guy who has a full-size voodoo doll of the Ex in his basement and kicks it in the genitals every day while screaming obscenities. He’s going to be favored over me.
Meantime, the mentally disabled guy put out a message for peace on Earth and unity among Americans. It’s treacly and possibly insincere (you can read it here) but, hey, that’s what we expect out of our politicians at Christmas.
Not the airing of grievances. Christ, you’d think Trump was celebrating Festivus.
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