The Scamp that Absconded with your Mother's Underwear.

All too well known, perhaps, "pictures of himself on his laptop", or "texting Mark Meadows", things held, le avergnon reprehense'.  Prehensile dreams of pointed people.

I saw a vision of Harold's ancestors, while I was looking in the purple haze from my own tailpipe.

"They're all up there, sir."

I'm gonna hold my hand out, and then tweet Joe to get on his knees, at my hand, and choke himself.  I'll make sup on Nicole's bitter tears, odes and homages to the 1 in 26 and 1.

Perhaps it said, of hours in the day, entirely to much to fill up with things interesting, or to lose the narrative.

All in all, dead and dying, be it for one said or the other, one party mailing list or another, zero fucks to give, and already a "tide of 2 percent".

Call it a tide.

Stupid.

There was a celebrity sex tape, and some tard asked a court, put it to a judge, "is it news worthy?"  Just like private text messages of "public figures", "is it news worthy?"

Could it be?

Does it pass Twitter's morality filter?

My mother bought used, "gently pre-owned" underwear for herself.

Get me out of this hell, with their hot dogs and "pre-owned" underwear.

Just get me the fuck out of here.

Damn.

This shit of bull, "gravy toss", big D and little D democracy, I think it was trampled, and by the feet of the people claiming it happened.

Vote third party.

Don't subscribe to Disney Plus Drinkrum Velocet.

Never click on a Facebook ad.

Plus.  If they put another box of bullshit on my porch, I'm throwing it in the yard like the raggedy garbage it is.

*I'm taking their bullshit OUT of my truck.

*This is the last time I clean the porch, no matter how much throwaway stuff they buy.

*Harris has cheekbones like one of the old cigar store carvings.

*Somebody say to Herman Tilke that he designed COTA for Nascar and see how he responds. I know what you're thinking, "but it doesn't have a dogleg, its not a tri-oval."

But uh.

Your momma.

Thank you, enjoy the rest of your weekend.