JD Vance Was A Flop Last Night. And I Can’t Handle Tonight

Well, I called it yesterday. After seeing Gomer Vance’s speech in front of an audience in what looked like a ballroom yesterday afternoon, I already knew that this wouldn’t end well. On the afternoon before he accepted the GOP nomination for Vice President, if there was one thing you’d expect, it would be for the crowd to warm him up with a rousing welcome.

Instead he received what I would call at best a room temperature welcome. The applause was polite, but not what I’d call enthusiastic. In fact, the only standing ovations I saw was when he specifically mentioned Traitor Tot and his exploits. Other than that, the crowd pretty much sat on their hands.

It was the same thing last night. I gotta tell you the simple truth, I honestly don’t believe that a single person in that hall last night gave a fat rats ass about JD Vance’s humble and personally painful upbringing in hardscrabble Appalachia. If they did they would have bought the f*cking book! News Flash! for Gomer. When your mother gets a better ovation than you do, find a new line of work. Once again, his best applause lines of the night were when he was slavishly praising Glorious Bleater. Which is as it should be for that rolling dumpster of a convention. After all, this is the Traitor Tot Show!

This guy is going to be a real Georgia peach on the campaign trail. He is totally dependent on the teleprompter, but since he’s not a natural public speaker, he hasn’t learned how to change the tone and inflection of his voice, point at the audience, and thump the lectern to make his more salient points resonate. Mostly what Vance looks like is that it would be like if Disney World had an animatronic Hall of Failed Vice Presidents.

That being said, I apologize. After 10 years of covering the moronic escapades of RNC conventions, including three Trump conventions. And I gotta be honest, I can’t take tonight. Maybe it’s the residual hang loose atmosphere and attitude of the Hawaiian Islands, but my bullsh*t meter is full after three days. For two reasons.

For starters, let’s just look at the prime time lineup for tonight. This is the most important night for four years for the GOP. The chance to pound home their message and convince hostage voters of the superiority of their platform and agenda for the jnext four years. You’d want an A-List of GOP political powerhouses of orthodoxy, right?

I mean, let’s just have some fun and project forward to the night when the Democratic nominee accepts the nomination next month. Think former President Bill Clinton, former President Barack Obama, Speaker Emeritus Nancy Pelosi, House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, all leading up to First Lady Jill Biden introducing the President of the United States.

Who does El Pendejo Presidente have on his roster? Sweet Jesus, it reads like the roster of lead in bands for a garage band in their first concert. Are you ready for this? Trump has scheduled to speak in prime time slots tonight Kid Rock, former WWE wrestler Hulk Hogan, and a UFC fighter who was caught on tape hammering on his wife. *SIGH* That’s the kind of star power Trump trots out before he accepts the GOP nomination for President of the United States. Even Rachel Maddow and Lawrence O’Donnell hogging the camera can’t erase the vision of these mental troglodytes speaking to an audience of anything other than fellow prisoners.

But the real nut is that I just can’t do it. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I am simply sick to death of just the sight of that fat, truculent, day glo orange face. Casting himself as a political martyr after his assassination attempt, even though political martyrs are usually martyred after they’re dead, and sonorously proclaiming how he took that bullet for them! Supposedly Trump is going to try to present himself as a kinder, gentler Trump, calling for national unity even as he promises to deport 1 million immigrants back to where they came from. All while a slobbering mob of congenital retards scream themselves silly and piss their pants, like the teeny boppers at a Beatles concert.

The GOP is about to nominate a twice federally indicted, 34 count New York state convicted felon, found civilly guilty of sexual assault and business fraud to be the next President of the United States. And I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the stomach for that sh*t anymore. I’m gonna play some NHL 22, then Teri and I are going to watch Tango and Cash. I’ll catch you tomorrow, when I can suffer through just snippets of Trump’s bullsh*t, and hopefully find Jack Smith’s appeal to the 11th Circuit. Peace Out!

I thank you for the privilege of your time.