Being in a Twitterless hell of an exile in Florida is no fun and Donald Trump has apparently found it confining. What else would explain his non stop gush of verbiage when he finally — finally — found his way home to terra foxnita. Ah, the relief of being back in his element, spewing bullshit, and having a Fox host encourage him to spew more.
Listening to eight minutes of Trump is more than I want to ask anybody to do, but take this in for a couple of minutes, as long as you can stand it, and hear how he won’t.shut.up. Maria Bartiromo wanted to touch base on different subjects, but not Trump. He’s been pent up and back in front of his old audience, he went Big Lie, all the way.
Yesterday, the Wall Street Journal released an audio of the six-minute conversation between Trump and Frances Watson, the investigator in Georgia that Trump spoke with after he spoke with the secretary of state about elections fraud. The Washington Post published a correction of its original story on the phone call, because Trump did not say “find the fraud” as quoted, he said that Watson would find “dishonesty” and he didn’t say Watson would be a national hero, he said that she “had the most important job in America.”
The Post published its correction and Trump took it upon himself to go on Fox News and push his Big Lie and diss Mitch McConnell and the Supreme Court and fear monger about H.R.1.
Same Trump, different day.
He stares into the camera with his “war face” (looking serious), but there’s no there there.
Same orange painted pile of stinking slime, different day!
We all know this election was fraud its just some of you are busy trying to make people think it wasn’t! One day i hope the evidence will be brought out and you guys will eat your words!
And isn’t it fun, being able to ignore him and ridicule him a the same time? Or if not totally ignore, at least dismiss him?
“It was the face of the most extreme terror he had ever known, a face that was strong and pretty in a sharp, forbidding sort of way-yet strange as the light shifted. It was the face of the things that hid in closets at night and came out after mothers closed bedroom doors, when children were not sure if they could actually see, or just merely sense, the dead, soulless eyes and red, sensual lips sneering at them from the darkened corner of the room.”
Oh, sorry…this is a story about Maria Bartoromo. I have no idea why I’m quoting Stephen King. Lol.