The animal magnetism of Stephan “Pee-Wee Himmler” Miller is palpable.
Miller plans to snuff out 35 candles today, as cruelly as possible.
Good time for a waterboarding. Waterboard the damn candles, too.
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Come on, we know Stephen Miller wasn’t “born” like real humans. He was hatched from some leathery egg in dark rock-lined nest in a barren landscape somewhere. And devoured his siblings, probably.
I always referred “Pee-wee Hermann” (Göering) Miller, but it’s your blog, call em as you see em.
More like “Li’l Heydrich” Miller, given his, err, solution-finding penchant…
When I was in truck-driving school, they told us that indulging in marijuana weakens the upper eyelid muscles. Which is apparent when someone cannot open their eyelids fully. Looks like Miller has toked more than his fair share.
~~Jules “MotherTrucker” MomCat
While I wouldn’t waste my breath wishing him a “happy” anything, I take heart in knowing that he is almost certainly incapable of happiness. The best he can do is satisfy a pathological need to create suffering for others. And, sad as that statement may seem, there is no snark or hyperbole in it. He is, and will always be a miserable human.
Our singular goal now must be to make it so he can only make himself (and, for the undoubtedly brief duration of their union, his execrable wife) miserable.
Don’t forget there’s a pregnancy involved. When I have a spare brain cell or 2 free to worry about something I don’t usually worry about, my thoughts turn to Barron. And now to whatever unfortunate results from the pairing of Mr. and Ms. Miller.
Haven’t seen Stevie in a while. He must be hiding out from the Rona that God aimed directly at him.
The lovely Mrs. Pillow laughed and laughed. Thanks, we needed that.
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