BigJimsWornOutTires
Kraken
- Joined
- Feb 6, 2021
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If you must, give the panic what it wants, but limit it to ten seconds. Count 1, 2, 3, 4... when you reach ten, the panic has expired. Time to get busy... which means, waiting. Ugh.
What's happening right now with the political pornographers is a recycled narrative. They used the same one in 2016. Before November, everyone was convinced Hillary was absolutely, without the slightest doubt, the next POTUS. You couldn't convince them otherwise and if you tried, they would chuckle and suggest medications for your delusion. Ugh, I remembered the confident arrogance, it was magnificent!
November 8, 2016, the media watched the numbers favor Hillary. Some of the reporters and anchormen had already broken the champagne bottle and were sipping in between takes. Ouch, many blowjobs too, that's for sure. They felt magnificent!
As the night of the election count proceeded, something happened. The new numbers began to favor Trump as they rose. The press reacted, "Eh, this is strange, but she's got this in the bag. We computed every scenario with our experts and wealthy psychics. They all agreed Trump can't win. It's silly, I'm even entertaining this crazy conspiracy."
By the end of the night, Trump won the election. The expressions on their faces reminded me of the aftermath of a hungry feller in the morning rushing to the kitchen for a hot, delicious breakfast. He sees the plate of food on the table and goes to it. Looking down at the eggs, buttermilk pancakes, hash browns, and crispy bacon steaming with flavor, he smacks his lips and sits. Suddenly, his front door busts open and Trump comes running inside and into the dining room and jumps on the table. He unzips his slacks and pulls his pecker out. He pees on the feller's breakfast.
As the sourpuss pushed away from the table, Trump turned his back to him and dropped his slacks to his ankles, he squats. He grunts a push. He shits into the yellow-puddled breakfast. Ugh, seems like Trump had a very healthy fiber diet because the shit came out in a stream and swirled into a giant Hershey's Kiss on top of the eggs, wet buttermilk pancakes, soaked hash browns, and bacon floating at the top. The feller reacts, "Come on! Really? You have to shit in my food too in this metaphor?"
Today, mainstream political pornographers are doing exactly what they're told to do and believe. Kamala has won the election. It's over for Trump. Done! It would be silly of them to even entertain such a wacky conspiracy of Trump winning, like, how is that possible? Kamala whipped his orange ass on national TV. O-V-E-R.
After Trump wins the election, fingers crossed, they'll let you all enjoy Christmas. But I really don't have confidence in that. They want to get this party started! The calm is over. The storm is here.
When it begins, they'll pretend to be clueless and might have the secretary of neckties illustrate their mental state, "We don't know what's going on! But when we do, you'll be the first to know!"
As we dive into this, they might state, "People need to calm down right now! We're not going back to the way it was. This is it." Of course, there is always resistance. But with no schools, no universities operating, families having to be families again... my oh my, what drama can come.
DO NOT PANIC. And if you must, give it those ten seconds. It's going to be a long, long road for folks under the wealthy tier. They might give you optimistic foreshadows and suggest when this is over, everyone wins. That confidence will be parallel in China. The Western Powers think they know everything—China thinks the same. Yet, what neither side expects is another opportunist without a nation, without even flesh... ah, yes, keep believing what you see is as good as it gets. I love a twist!
Deep inside the Earth, commotion is heard. Something is happening. Millions of miles to the White Sun, into it, we go... something is happening. "Oh, look at Jupiter. What a feeling."
What's happening right now with the political pornographers is a recycled narrative. They used the same one in 2016. Before November, everyone was convinced Hillary was absolutely, without the slightest doubt, the next POTUS. You couldn't convince them otherwise and if you tried, they would chuckle and suggest medications for your delusion. Ugh, I remembered the confident arrogance, it was magnificent!
November 8, 2016, the media watched the numbers favor Hillary. Some of the reporters and anchormen had already broken the champagne bottle and were sipping in between takes. Ouch, many blowjobs too, that's for sure. They felt magnificent!
As the night of the election count proceeded, something happened. The new numbers began to favor Trump as they rose. The press reacted, "Eh, this is strange, but she's got this in the bag. We computed every scenario with our experts and wealthy psychics. They all agreed Trump can't win. It's silly, I'm even entertaining this crazy conspiracy."
By the end of the night, Trump won the election. The expressions on their faces reminded me of the aftermath of a hungry feller in the morning rushing to the kitchen for a hot, delicious breakfast. He sees the plate of food on the table and goes to it. Looking down at the eggs, buttermilk pancakes, hash browns, and crispy bacon steaming with flavor, he smacks his lips and sits. Suddenly, his front door busts open and Trump comes running inside and into the dining room and jumps on the table. He unzips his slacks and pulls his pecker out. He pees on the feller's breakfast.
As the sourpuss pushed away from the table, Trump turned his back to him and dropped his slacks to his ankles, he squats. He grunts a push. He shits into the yellow-puddled breakfast. Ugh, seems like Trump had a very healthy fiber diet because the shit came out in a stream and swirled into a giant Hershey's Kiss on top of the eggs, wet buttermilk pancakes, soaked hash browns, and bacon floating at the top. The feller reacts, "Come on! Really? You have to shit in my food too in this metaphor?"
Today, mainstream political pornographers are doing exactly what they're told to do and believe. Kamala has won the election. It's over for Trump. Done! It would be silly of them to even entertain such a wacky conspiracy of Trump winning, like, how is that possible? Kamala whipped his orange ass on national TV. O-V-E-R.
After Trump wins the election, fingers crossed, they'll let you all enjoy Christmas. But I really don't have confidence in that. They want to get this party started! The calm is over. The storm is here.
When it begins, they'll pretend to be clueless and might have the secretary of neckties illustrate their mental state, "We don't know what's going on! But when we do, you'll be the first to know!"
As we dive into this, they might state, "People need to calm down right now! We're not going back to the way it was. This is it." Of course, there is always resistance. But with no schools, no universities operating, families having to be families again... my oh my, what drama can come.
DO NOT PANIC. And if you must, give it those ten seconds. It's going to be a long, long road for folks under the wealthy tier. They might give you optimistic foreshadows and suggest when this is over, everyone wins. That confidence will be parallel in China. The Western Powers think they know everything—China thinks the same. Yet, what neither side expects is another opportunist without a nation, without even flesh... ah, yes, keep believing what you see is as good as it gets. I love a twist!
Deep inside the Earth, commotion is heard. Something is happening. Millions of miles to the White Sun, into it, we go... something is happening. "Oh, look at Jupiter. What a feeling."
