Whipped cream and other delights And, so, at last, the end is nigh, my fellow Americans: Such incivilities are we being bludgeoned round-the-clock with, senseless as a snaggle-tooth jack-o-lantern during this final two-week-dash leading up to whether our country remains afloat as a democratic republic, or capsizes into a fascist dictatorship.
Our future dangles from but a fraying thread, precarious as the proverbial sword of Damocles spun by a toying madman clutching a switchblade.
Impoverished males in the swing states are MAGA fodder, with Trump counting on the diabolically defunct Electoral College to fail us as a united nation, yet again.
Welcome to Halloween, American-style, kiddies! As Octobers go, this is about the scariest one I can remember. How the hell can, yet again, the Orange Creature from the Black Lagoon in all his shambling, rambling, venomous toxicity — this corpulent cuckoo, this convicted felon, this serial rapist and unconstitutional imbecile — somehow, against all logic and law, be in a dead-heat race for the presidency of the United States?