what we-the-people with a somewhat educated mind thought could never happen in the U S of A... yeah, 'Merica, for you folks below the Dixie... belt, plumber-crack, line... whatever. But don't you ever say never, not here, for lookit-lookit, 'tis the middle of a darn hot July--with four loooong months until November--and we are stuck in this circus of inept loud clowns and stupid masses suddenly noticing that the orange elephant in the room is shitting red turds all over us.
Hell yeah, I am truly disappointed, can you tell? I thought those crazy-ass Repus were going to have fun and coup-coop the combover rooster, a la Turkey, rumbling dirty in Cleveland to nominate anyone else, who cared whom. But this? this cowardly laying down and go ahead, quick, insert-the-anal-Trump, deep? Nope, not ready, not I.
Oh, and the nation's press, the so-called heroes of freedom of... aha, liberal/conservative/wacko unethical merchants of the virtual dictionaries, all of them should be shamed down to their sweaty balls about this mess that they helped create. Today, a massive cloud of gassy flagellation of mea-culpas should be on every front page, asking for forgiveness from we-the-people instead of continuing with the loud headlines about the vinyl-coated plagiaristic, gaudy, lying, teethy family... one step away from being a Real nightmare... for US all. Yes, I want accountability, please, for the haha joke is over and the joker is one election away from becoming the Chief... the fool on the hill, governing us, and of course, the world. This sick world in revolt, tired, worn, beat... oh yeah, this world... that hates the US of A, butOFcourse, and with more reason, now.
But let's be positive. I want to be intelligent about it; however, SIGUE / CONTINUES
this revolt is coming from the deep dark side of 'Merica, them folks left-in-the-middle digging graves deep in the big scar that never healed. All this circus, and its pantomimes gone bizarre is not your usual cellulitis-Disneyland, and those weird blondish androids with huge teeth and moussed hair are not plastic; the psycho fairies jumping drunk in Cleveland are not in housewife costumes. They are the RealBelt of redneck ignorance in action... and-proud-of-it, motherfuckers. Whipping their belt on-our-face with their loud you-yankees/spics/negroes/homos-knowshit-attitude of supremacy rotting them to their hollow core of fake bibles, never read or read wrong, made up for the sake of fear, what difference does it make, they are ready to cause damage, big damage. Yes, this so-called silent minority was approved by the same Republican Party in awe of it, stamping hate and intolerance as its official platform, and now... well now they are one step away before legally blowing their fetid beer-breath of denial and ignorance on the inevitable realities that are shaking and changing this, theirs, OUR country. And us, we-the-people dumbfounded by this wtf-just-happened moment cannot allow it, to be punished with this belt for just being and thinking different. No-sir-ree-bob, no.
Calm down, some say. We've seen in all happen before... in this envy-of-the-world-democracy. Them older baby-boomers and us late pups of that gen were so glad that we fought "the Man" and had evolved, caught-up and left behind all that anglo-white-wash of puritanism and fearOFgod... and of dark-skinned-folks, lordy, lordy, allelujah. So we, full of optimism, with the help of those strange millennial youngins (so mad at capitalism but unable to let go of their laptops and iPhones), went ahead and elected a... black president! MyOhMy, in the middle of the 21st century, AmishCountry and all, survivalists and their rifles, the South and... well, the South... and we still did it. A great trophy, an educated, intelligent, elegant and classy Black president of a white mother and a Kenyan father, so we really thought we had advanced, gotten our 'Merican shit in order and that most of the country was on the same vibe, humming along, getting sober from all the cheap moonshine from sea to sea. And then... now, just eight years later, today, we stand in the border of a barbaric abyss: 'Merica all-red-faced on their chevy trucks going bonkers in the name of country, Jesus (the dark-skinned one NOT), and all-you-mfkrs be warned: Stay away from our women... or we'll kill you-all bastard darkies and those reptilian mexicans; and you-all whorish working-women back to the kitchen, and light up the fireplace for we gonna roast all bent homos may they burn in hell...
I know, I know. I am in pain. But I want to believe that we are better than this, but... life-cycles, and humanity--or lack-of--reversals are frequent... and it looks like we are due, again, for the dark side. And NO, playing Pokemon is NOT the answer, comemierdas pendejos looking for escapism and whining for Bernie. So, pay attention, you fools, and pray to your god-of-choice that there are no snow blizzards on the East Coast on nov 8, or that THE earthquake hits California on that date, because then... we all will be left in... whose hands? Florida, that's who... that dangling penis of filled-in swampy territory...
and then, on top of it all, the wife... i swear, from now until November I fear I will live a horrendous identity crisis... a nameless sensation of something precious stolen from my soul, ay, ay, ay. anyway... as I talked on the phone with my mother last night, she is telling me that it is very hot in Miami, it rains a lot, and... and... she stops suddenly and asks: Chica, dime... what is that woman on tv they keep mentioning that has YOUR name? ay, ay, ay...I sighed. Mami, she's the wife... and my mother, one of those unexplainable CubanAmerican Republicans thanks to Kennedy blah-blah-blah, goes, sounding pissed off: Pues mira que no. I'm not voting for him, no way. That is your name, qué se creen, coño.
So, that settles it. There's hope.