Shut the fuck up Donnie
We’ve entered the baroque period of this election cycle, where every little curlicue added to the already over-decorated structure of our national politics only has meaning in relation to the previous curlicues and frippery and dongles, and whatever actual structure is under all that commentary has long since stopped being necessary. At this point, the election narrative could hold itself up on nothing more than hard-copy stacks of end-of-the-world predictions, and all our shared and unshared hatred for Donald and/or Hillary and/or Bernie and/or whoever you want to write in to prove the point that you’re a totally independent minded, never-gonna-budge bad-ass doesn’t matter. You’ve made up your mind and I’ve made up my mind, and this latest bit by the FBI director who is creepily pawing through Anthony Weiner’s digital drawers can be interpreted in a thousand ways to suit any prejudice.
Enjoy splashing around in your Karo-syrup, fakey-ass, B-movie blood-bath, news media, I’m taking a little vacation from all that and from now until November 7th, will be binging on 2 Dope Queens, ’cause I’m not just with her, I’m with all the hers.
