How Can They Be This Dumb?

So…I don’t follow politics much anymore but happened to read something that popped up on my phone while I was checking stocks that I follow. Yep, if you want to look at stock performance on your phone, you’re going to be solicited for indoctrination.

Here’s the deal, as our pudding brained fake president would say, the demotards are pushing a 9/11 style commission to have a huge, multi-year review of the protest at the Capitol on Jan 6th. As I read the article I was actually a bit confused…I thought it might have been from months ago because it contained obvious factual errors, but no, it was current. We all know how this goes. The demotards say, ‘hey man just searching for the truth, can I have limitless amounts of money so spend on my friends at fancy law firms that will tell me a 2 year story with the exact timing and plot lines that will help me with reelection as far out as 2024? Just looking for the truth.’

And guess what? Thirty five moronic republicans voted with the demotards to pass the bill. Not one or two (depends how you count Liz Cheney) but 35!

So, like, how can they possibly be this dumb? How would this help them? What is to be gained? Do we really need another fat, bloated NeverTrump sissy whinging on MSNBC?

McConnell says its dead in the Senate but you never know…he can be bought with an eight ball and a waddle massage.

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So God Made A Meatloaf

And on the 8th day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, “I need a tasty meal, easy to prepare, with or without an actual recipe”.

God said, “I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, grind up cows into beef, work all day in the kitchen, chop up vegetables, make supper, then go to town and get the things they forgot for the recipe.”

“I need somebody with arms strong enough to rustle up a loaf pan and yet gentle enough to finely mince assorted vegetables; somebody to consider adding some hog meat, tame cantankerous cooking times, come home hungry, have to wait on lunch until his wife’s done fixing the sides, then tell the kids they’re going to eat this meal like it or not — and mean it”

God said, “I need somebody willing to sit up all night with indigestion,  and feel like he’s gonna die, then dry his eyes and say, ‘Maybe next time I make it I’ll be able to digest it.’ I need somebody who can shape a toothpick from a persimmon sprout, wash a pan with a hunk of car tire, who can make leftovers out of haywire, feed sacks, shoe scraps and gravy; who, football time and playoff season, will finish his forty-hour week by Tuesday noon, and then pain’n from La-Z-Boy recliner back, put in another seventy-two hours of sports gambling”

So God Made A Meatloaf (with apologies to Paul Harvey and the FFA)

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