I’m sorry, but I call time out. Sweet Jesus, but what a week, eh? It started out with Ditch, I mean Bitch, I mean Mitch McConnell trying to ram back-to back 12 hour shifts to place their case, only to be told by his own caucus that they weren’t going to spend 12 1/2 hours a day sitting around watching Glorious Bleater getting hammered like a baby seal. And then it ended 4 nights later with yet another logical, powerful, impassioned plea from Adam Schiff to the GOP led Senate that there are sonme things in this world more important than their own dead, fat asses.
I’m sorry, but I’ve got to call timeout. Enough is enough. Tell the truth, doesn’t there come a time when there’s no more brain bleach in the cabinet, and no shower water somehow or other seems hot enough for the scum of the Trump cesspool that we’re all swimming around in?
I need a break, and I think that you do to. Be honest, do you really want me to spend another 1200 words rehashing today’s developments? No, tonight I’m going to do something different. Tonight, for this one night, I’m going to give us a break. When you scroll down a line or two, I have no eternal truths for you tonight. All I have for you below is 4 minutes of tranquility and calm.