Below
the Belt
Hillary tried to warn us during the
Nasty Woman Hootenanny, better known as the third presidential
debate, that
Trump had become a mouthpiece for the Russian government
or, more appropriately, its puppet.
In a story
by Newsweek Magazine we're learned that Trump's
been happy to spread information and misinformation
supplied
by Russian hackers and his associates are quite comfy
in that big, cozy, Russian bed blanketed with loot
for all.
In the meantime we've learned that the Federal Bureau
of Investigation, better known as "Trumpland" because
of all the white, male RWNJ's it employs, is actively
and probably illegally making scandalous allegations
concerning Mrs. Clinton. Information the media is all
too happy to breathlessly relate to the roiling mob.
So we now have the KGB, the KKK, and the FBI,
plus FOX, NBC, CBS, and ABC, all working for the GOP
to give the USA to a narcissist with ADHD.
Yeah, this is certainly a fair election.
--------
Thursday afternoon I put on my nice,
clean "Howard
Dean for President" t-shirt and went to vote at
the local rec center. I stepped into the gym and noticed
lots of voting booths but only a scant number of voters.
They were mostly old, white folks wandering aimlessly
about. It had the feel of the lobby of a Trump hotel.
I showed the worker my ID and asked for my free cheese.
She ignored me. Typical capitalist.
I was given my mark of Satan, I mean, a computer-coded
ID sticker and shuttled quickly off to another worker
who asked my preference. My pants were ready to say "Scarlett
Johansson" but a tiny remnant of brain I'd saved
for just such an emergency blurted out "Democrat".
The worker looked at me as only someone who's heard
the same quip a hundred times and said "No. Which
booth?". I asked for the one that smelled the
best. She guided me towards the closest one and beat
a hasty retreat.
I leaned over to the guy in the booth next to me and
asked him the answer to question 12. He didn't answer.
Some people.
After straight-voting for the non-fascist, non-greedhead,
non-child-raper party I hit the big, friendly "Vote" button,
jizzed my shorts in unbridled ecstasy, and then trundled
home to wallow in the splendor of truth, justice, and
half-price Halloween candy.
-----------
Dang! We can no longer use the Cubbies as a metaphor
for inept failure.
There's always Trump, though.
=Lefty=
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