The election

I hope to be involved, somehow, in the Presidential election next year.  Not working with a campaign.  I want to associate myself with an independent group, to attack Hillary.  When I heard about the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth I immediately sent them all I could afford.  It wasn’t that much, but I knew these guys were on to something.  Kerry was a phony lying bastard, and they proved it.  Another such group, or groups, will form to take out Hillary.  I’m going to join up, and we’ll do some damage.  I haven’t thought it all the way through, but we’ll come up with something.  There’s so much to choose from, such a target rich environment.  Snakehead Carville will be pissed.  It could be a lot of fun.

I dislike Hillary, but my personal motivation is to get Bill.  They ought to do a poll on him, approve, disapprove, or despise.  I’d be in the latter category.  People don’t change.  You are who you were in high school.  And Bill Clinton was a slimy chalk board monitor, a kiss ass and a punk.  That’s who he was, and that’s who he is.  Ask yourself, what kind of man gets elected President and then seduces some fat intern to come to the Oval Office to give him blow jobs?  Is that your kind of guy?  He’s been that way all his life.  He’s a sexual predator, who tries to take advantage of young women.  I hate that kind of guy.  When I was growing up in Richmond my father wasn’t around.  He was a sperm donor, and that was it.  The less said of him the better.  I was raised by my grandmother, my mother, and my Aunt Mary.  I was not deprived.  My mother and my Aunt Mary worked in retail, and didn’t make much, but it was enough.  They were both beautiful women, though they were just working poor.  They were the kind of women who attract sexual predators, men who want to take advantage of them.  When I heard about Paula Jones, down in Arkansas, I knew she was kind of like my mother and my Aunt Mary, and I tried to raise money on my radio show for her lawyers.

I never want to be in the same room with Bill Clinton.  He’s got Secret Service protection, and I want to punch him in the mouth.  Knock him on his ass.  He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t get up.  We’re the same age, but I hope to outlive him.  He’s on my bucket list.  I want to piss on his grave.

On a lighter note, I’m off to go camping with Danny, who is an anti-Clinton.  He’s everything that Clinton is not.  He’s a big, tough guy.  Girls were always crazy for Danny.  He married the most popular girl at Piedmont High.  If there was ever any trouble, you wanted to stick close to Danny.  He’d take anybody on.  Everybody liked Danny.

And still do.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s