Before we begin, let me get this out of my way: Get off my lawn. Do you kids even know what a lawn is? Now. Back during the analog age, if you were a freak or a weirdo, you were a freak or a weirdo. Even if you went to some big nice suburban high …
You can throw up in your mouth all you like about how ugly Trump’s nationalism is. At least he’s doing the job he was hired for.
Even if you hate him so bad that the way he pets a dog just makes you wanna punt him and the dog both across the room, you have to admit, this is pretty goddamn amazing. Put aside the way you feel about his policies or his stupid face for a moment and think about it.
Way to backfire, geniuses. The journo-bot takes on Trump.
Sometimes your radical moderate answer really is pretty fringey, because one of the fringes accidentally hit the nail on the head.
Then I remembered that the Nobel for literature is bullshit anyway.
When the ordeal was finally over, the poor guinea pig spent days cowering under the mess in the center of the floor, refusing to come out.
… and oh yeah, sometimes they would mix rat poison in with the leaf powder (just joking, DEA, you dumb fucks).
If the vote were restricted to people who didn’t act like farm animals I would almost find democracy tolerable.
We would all like to think we would personally make great benevolent (or otherwise) dictators. But deep down inside, which human right would you be most tempted to strip away once you went mad with the sweet, sweet drug of power? I realize that everyone who knows anything about me has already guessed that …