Wednesday, January 2, 2019
Happy New Year
Happy New Year everybody.
And good riddance to 2018, a year, I'm sensing, most people would like to forget.
Apart from my oldest daughter gradumecating from college (that's one less tuition bill) and putting my fat ass into a new car, the incomparable Audi S5, there were not a lot of high points in the past 12 months.
Business was off. Maybe the coal mining industry is flying high, but friends and colleagues in the ad industry have had little to cheer about. People are working more hours. For less pay. And the Long Table of Mediocrity™ has grown even longer. And even more mediocre.
The stock market is in the toilet. 2018 was the worst year in the last ten. Fortunately, I sensed the uneasiness and when the market was at its highest (or near highest) point, quickly snatched my $387 of profit and walked away. As I have mentioned many times in the past, there's no way I'm living out my golden years in a dirty nursing home.
And perhaps most telling of all, we are still living under the fat, stubby clueless thumb of our very own dictator, Precedent Shitgibbon, who, in a strange manifestation of his fetishized love of the military took the time to tweet out that four star General Stanley McChrystal was a "big, dumb mouth."
In what world is that acceptable?
Oh yeah, the same world that tolerates this douchebag blaming other people for the death of two innocent children.
The same world that normalizes his politicization of the DOJ, the press, the intel community and even the troops serving on the front line.
The same world that shrugs its shoulders at his ignorance, his narcissism, his thuggish nature and his kryptonite aversion to the truth.
The same world that looks the other way at his indiscretions and his illegal attempts to cover up those indiscretions that are literally caught on tape.
The same world that turns a blind eye to him obstructing justice in plain view, playing footsie with autocrats and handing Code Word intel to our number one adversary.
People ask why I am so fervent and prodigious in my hatred for this fish brained gudgeon. Furthermore, they ask when I plan to stop my vitriolic campaign.
The answer is simple.
Impeachment.
Or aneurysm.
Whichever comes first.
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