I’ve been told I’m a bigmouth, a crass know-it-all who enjoys kicking people while they’re down — people like all the imbeciles who voted a demented grifter into the White House in 2020 and then tried to replace the old fart with a brainless, cackling DIE hire.
To that I say, guilty as charged!
So, without further ado, let me offer free life-coaching to all the fey losers on the left, crying into their/zey/zem’s decaf, gluten-free, free-range frappucchino.
To Stephen King, whose many scary books I bought, read, and enjoyed: Write about what you know. You clearly don’t know jack about politics, or your average American, for that matter.
Stick to vampire stories. You know, Trump-haters of Romanian heritage with big canines.
To Jim Comey, you tall, sanctimonious snake: Prepare for a full and complete rectal exam from all the good men and women you tried to ruin.
You had to be sweating this particular election, knowing that you and the FBI subversively tried to take down a beloved and effective president and U.S. citizen, Donald Trump. I’d hate to be in your shoes right now.
Or Chris Wray’s, Peter Strzok’s, Bob Mueller’s, or Lisa Page (Strzok’s sidepiece)’s.
Speaking of sidepieces: How’s that “joy” working out for you, Kammy? You got everything you wanted in life — promotions, endorsements, donations, and a run for president — without ever undergoing the grueling primary process (which you quit before the first votes were cast in 2020). And all because you possessed mammaries; moderate levels of melanin; and mad skills with old, powerful politicians.
Frankly, for a person bereft of brain, you done good.
On the subject of moderate levels of melanin, who’s The Biggest Loser of 2024? That’s easy.
Barry O.
The former president — who confessed in writing to a woman that he made love to men daily in his imagination — has got be crying in his mom jeans to his sundry pals in Iran, Chicago, or Cuba, that nobody ever listens to him, Michelle’s masculine side is becoming unbearable, and the FBI’s no longer returning his calls.
I hear Indonesia’s nice this time of year, Barry.
Speaking of people with daughters, especially daughters who play inter-scholastic sports: What took you so long to realize that mentally ill males should not be permitted to pile-drive the weaker sex in athletic competitions? Or take their medals, honors, spots on teams, and financial and emotional rewards? Or swing their Johnsons in girls’ locker rooms?
News alert: The next Trump administration’s having none of it! Change your sex, if you must, but don’t try out for your college women’s swimming team at, say, 6’3” of long-limbed XY muscle.
Speaking of muscle, how ’bout all those Democrat plaintiffs, lawyers, and judges who tried to take Trump down with Soviet-style lawfare?
I’m a dentist, Jim, not a lawyer!
Okay. But if I were they, I’d hire the very best defense lawyers, tout de suite! The process is the punishment, as they well know, and they’re about to be on the receiving end of it. And all I can say is, enjoy!
Speaking of pure, unadulterated enjoyment: Are there any bigger clowns than the talking heads of the dying mainstream media? Could they be any more biased and out of touch? They lie so much and so consistently that they’re now trusted even less than politicians, mass murderers, and oven grease.
As the legacy media business model goes down in flames, I say, Learn to code. I have a family member who makes good scratch coding.
To libs and Deep Staters who can’t figure out how they just lost the presidency, the Senate, and possibly the House: Don’t call voters names!
Don’t call them “Russian pawns, hillbillies, bitter clingers, gunslingers, deplorables, racists, sexists, homophobes, zenophobes, misogynists, colonialists, garbage.” Name-calling reflects poorly on you, not them.
To the people who authorized the raid on P’Nut the Squirrel: P’Nut did not die in vain!
I’m telling you that the Big Government drones who assassinated poor P’Nut only made the Resistance grow stronger. If they could do it to a defenseless woodland creature, or a successful Manhattan billionaire, for that matter, they could do it to you. The electorate took note and voted accordingly.
To Dr. Jill Biden: Let’s talk, doctor to doctor. Okay, I’m not a doctor, just a dentist.
But back when I had blood up to my elbows during oral surgery, I had to laugh at the likes of you, insisting on being called “Doctor” with your Ed.D. The only thing you ever doctored was your sad, senile, and corrupt husk of a husband. And you did a poor job of that.
Speaking of poor jobs, could our sprawling, unionized government be any more useless or wasteful?
That’s my question for Elon. And considering we currently need Mr. Musk to rescue the astronauts NASA stranded in space, I can’t wait for him to take a scalpel to the swamp. Should be righteous.
To everyone sick and tired of celebs, actors, musicians, and has-beens endorsing brainless meat-bags like Senile Joe and Cackling Kamala, I say: Let’s buy them airplane tickets so they can leave.
I’d gladly pay for Bruce Springsteen to move to Guatemala.
What would you pay to help Bette Midler move to Botswana? Or help George Clooney to move to Georgia? Or facilitate Anderson Cooper relocating to Istanbul?
Let’s offer these idiots — and any certified Lincoln Project members — free tickets to all the socialist or autocratic hellholes they’re trying to turn America into. I mean, who wouldn’t sacrifice a paycheck to help Rachael Maddow or Hillary Clinton breathe free in the Middle East?
To the Middle Eastern terror groups, I give my final counsel: Crawl back under the rock from whence you sprang before Israel, with President-Elect Trump’s support, hunts you down and takes you out. Or makes your phone explode in your crotch, depending on your organizational value.
You enjoyed free rein to abuse Israelis and Americans under Joe Biden and his puppet-master’s watch. But the party’s over. Turn out the lights if you want to live.
I could go on forever. But my facial muscles are fatigued from smiling since 3:30 A.M., the morning after the election. Like the Joker, I may have a permanent smile after this election.
In summation, all I can say is that I’m as light as a feather, as happy as a schoolboy. And if I were part of the Deep State that has so traumatized and abused every American citizen, not to mention Donald Trump, I would be making travel plans about now.
I hear Quebec’s beautiful this time of year!
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Image via Pixabay.
