HOLD THE DATE! We will be having one of the biggest gatherings in the history of Washington, D.C., on July 4th. It will be called “A Salute To America” and will be held at the Lincoln Memorial. Major fireworks display, entertainment and an address by your favorite President, me!— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) February 24, 2019
That's nice. Take pictures. But that is Washington, and Washington is a swamp. I'll be in Denver with no mosquitos immersed in our own celebration a few blocks away at Civic Park. I'm right here in the middle of it. See, people come to my place, not I go to your place. Thank you for the invitation. It's very nice of you. Cheers. Kindred spirits and all that. We'll be doing the same things.
If your first instinct to being invited to a Fourth of July party is to call for a protest rally then you may be an insane person with no friends. https://t.co/N02ctTVK78— Shem Horne (@Shem_Infinite) February 24, 2019
His political party of which he fancies himself some sort of unofficial leader has been delivered a simple civics lesson regarding representing its constituency that he is highly resistant to learning. He is a dull student, and that is all. He is an unhappy baby splashing the bathwater.
Voop
Oh man, I'm transported again. This is soooo mental.
I don't know my own age. I must be two. Possibly three. I'm naked. In the actual bathtub. In shallow warm water. Splashing the water kicking and screaming loud as I can. I make a LOT of noise and fling water everywhere.
"What's wrong with you? Why are you crying?" She's cross with me. And I'm cross with her.
"You're going to put soap in my eyes and it hurts."
I'm predicting it will hurt. My dad is nowhere around. Mother is bathing me. She's alone with us two boys and frustrated. I'm making this unpleasant and difficult. I've been through this before and when she does this it hurts.
"No I won't. I can do this so that doesn't happen."
"You can?"
"Let me show you. Relax."
I stopped making noise. I stopped flouncing. She put baby shampoo on my head and tilted my head back. Leaned me all the way back. Lathered my head carefully to keep the soap off my forehead. I trusted my head to her hands. Trusted water won't go into my eyes. She rinsed off the soap without any water going into my eyes. She let me hold a small towel to my face. I'm all, "Wow. She's really smart about things."
Thereafter baths weren't so bad.
We reached an understanding about baths and about soap going into eyes. Life became more pleasant for both of us.
Bill Kristol can't lean anything new. He's still flouncing. Still being ridiculous.
2 comments:
Kristol really knows how to make himself welcome at the country's table.
Washington is a swamp. I'll be in Denver with no mosquitos immersed in our own celebration a few blocks away at Civic Park.
Not the bugs so much as the heat (we are talking July) and humidity (bring several changes of clothes and, if there are communal, outdoor showers, you will thank yourself if you avail yourself of several).
The humidity, especially.
Oh man, I'm transported again. This is soooo mental.
Just tell Lt Kyle you want the No More Tears Beam Up.
Kristol can't admit he made a mistake. YOU MADE A MISTAKE! Say it. The sky won't fall on you, Billy. Promise. But he can't. He can't do it. Good. Flush 'im.
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