Take yourself back seven years. If I asked you to describe the president’s personal physician on duty at the White House – without knowing anything about the person – you would think, “He is a gentle, revered doctor, about 65 with silver hair, with a perfect white shirt, tie, and impeccably pressed white lab coat, who is always the wisest person in the room, even when the president is around, never seen as angry, has only taken a Tylenol in his life and maybe has a glass of wine twice a week with dinner. He is the type of person that if the president says, ‘I need 100 Xanax, I’m so stressed…” would have no trouble saying, “Mr. President, I will give you eight a month, put you on something non-addictive to help, and set up some therapy, there is far too much danger of addiction…'” In other words, a doctor’s doctor.

And then we met Ronny Jackson and, well, wondered how the hell he ever got that job. One simply must assume that there was a time, before he fell into Trump’s cult, that he was a very different person because this guy, now, he’s not right.

Ronny is going off the deep end.

We don’t know the classification of the documents, Ronny, and neither do you. It is good to see you acknowledge that it’s incredible to store classified documents in private areas. The FBI has been called, jackass. The “raid” hasn’t taken place because Biden’s people are finding these documents and handing them over, you stupid fffff. How can there be two systems of justice in this country? Near as I can tell, Trump is still walking around free, posting about Biden showing the documents to China, “Which I would never do,” he freakily added. So, maybe catch up a bit.

No, they’re mostly hired to go after Elon Musk and Exxon. But you shouldn’t have any problem if you’re just a regular Joe paying your taxes.

I don’t know if they’re a hazard or not. Is this really the hill you want to die on? Why yes, apparently it is:

Yes, it is still the hill on which he’s planted his flag. Gas stoves, Ronny Jackson’s Alamo (and we know how that turned out).

No one is saying that a gas stove messes with your head like a fifth of gin or four Vicodin, okay, Ronny? You can still self-medicate however you wish.

This about sums it up:

****
[email protected], @JasonMiciak, SUBSTACK: RON DESANTIS, FLORIDA’S DICTATOR, MAY SOON BE YOURS, TOO

 

 

 

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6 COMMENTS

  2. Cults have their own internal sick ‘logic’. Go ahead honey the parent says to their child, drink this grape juice and see Jesus. 900+ dead in the name of Jesus. See my point?

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  3. If you pull back on the lens it doesn’t say anything good about the WH Press Corps that this guy was a President’s personal doc. He was known for handing out pills to reporters on Air Force One, or if they’d pop by the medical office at the WH. No exam, and often no prescriptions. He was a regular pill dispenser. Everyone knew it. AND, more importantly they knew he was the President’s doc, including during those annual briefings where he’d talk about what a “magnificent physical specimen” the obviously fat, bad-skinned, no exercise (compare Trump to others of the last three decades) predecessors and successors was. But hey, they didn’t skewer him or question his fitness for his role (and get the Navy to get rid of him) because Trump wasn’t the only one he doled out pills to.

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  4. Trying to figure out why a drunked-up very poor m.d. is considered to be something worth using as “news”.

    I have to go back to an idea I’ve mentioned a few days ago: our current crop of “journalists” need to go back to school since they quite obviously would not recognize news if it leapt up and bit them on the ass.

    2

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