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It is 3:17 in the a.m. in the belly of the beast, the full moon hovers over Washington D.C., the district of criminals. And as the nightmares play out across the cursed and snoring bedrooms of the members of Congress, unconscious reckonings cause the reptilian government prostitutes to toss and turn. A singular vision, lo and behold, the Republican Party sprawled across the marble floor of the Capitol like a gut shot hog, twitching, bleeding lobbyist money, and shitting itself in terror.
The air reeks of fear, putrid fake Kentucky bourbon, and the unmistakable stench of betrayal hanging in the air like a cheap cigar. The clarity in these haunting visions is brief but cuts deep. No doubt about it, the pangs of the grief of a pointless self serving existence roll through the neurons and spinal columns of a generation of swine that knows full well that it was supposed to be the last line of defense against the Democratic socialists and their camel humping allies in the Muslim Brotherhood, but they’ve sold the farm, the flag, and the duly elected President for a fistful of insider trading tips and a seat at AIPAC’s blood soaked banquet table. They are all derelict of duty. The company and brand we have known as America is staring at a pitch black friday everything must go sale that is right around the corner.
I have seen the enemy, and it is us……or rather, them. The gelatinous blob of GOP congressmen who couldn’t find their own balls with a GPS and a search warrant.
