I love this:
Donald Trump is so angry at being thrown off Twitter that he writes out insults in the hope allies will post them
President Donald Trump was working behind the scenes from Mar-a-Lago to try to undermine Rep. Liz Cheney within the Republican conference for she was overwhelmingly reelected to her leadership post – and amid his frustration at his Twitter ban has taken to penning insults for others…
In another time, Trump himself might have been throwing off Tweets insulting the most powerful House member to cross him on impeachment.
But with Twitter having banned him after the Jan. 6 riot, Trump wrote out insults and ‘observations’ for others to use, the DailyBeast reported.
If you cannot enjoy the image of impotent rage of the orange tufted hate-goblin, eyes spinning in different directions, bouncing off the golden walls of Merde-a-Lardo demanding someone tweet something nasty on his behalf, well, then you cannot fully enjoy life. He’s seeking revenge and is powerless. Savor this moment, Scissorheads.
Drifty wrote about this yesterday, totally cribbing from him.
I was thoroughly convinced he was feeding some tweet matter to Traitor-Greene for her to regurgitate a few days ago!
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I particularly liked the heading, “Meanwhile, At Mar-a-Castrato”. Maybe he’ll sing for us…
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I’d bet if they hauled his fat ass in, sat him down and clarified just how much trouble he is in, he’d sing like like the proverbial bird. Rock like Robin.
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Heh ~
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I’m old enough to remember that song. Could have used a 56 chevy on the photo shoot. Edsels were total crap…
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I visited family regularly in Stockton, in the early sixties.
Sunkist, baby.
Edsel were like Tuckers, too forward thinking for the time.
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We visited my aunt and uncle in Stockton on November 22, 1963, soon after docking in SF after a ten day cross Pacific transport from Japan. I heard about the Kennedy assassination upon docking, people were crying. Strange times. Funny, in an ironic way, that we sailed to Japan on the day Kennedy was elected, and stepped on American soil the day he was shot. Oddly, I’ve felt the same level of apprehension the last four years as I did then…
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Not sure if I posted this song here before now. If so, then apologies are rendered, but feeling good about it…
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Y’know I can believe that he’s too stupid to figure out how to open a sock-puppet account.
He probably can’t get the bra off the debutant.
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With his lift shoe shuffle, he’d also trip over the line of matchboxes.
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