Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll isn’t the only grrrll who’s TANNED, RESTED AND READY TO RUMBLE. She writes:

Purveyors of slip cover, shower curtain, and drapery fabric, hide your wares! In this Bare Shelves Biden Era those fabrics are in grave danger of being expropriated to be made into ugly new campaign pantsuits for Sir Edmund’s fake namesake! Third time’s the charm! Hillary is back and ready for the rematch of the Century. She will be a few years under 80 and fit as a fiddle – possibly the one the Devil played down in Georgia.

Already the feelers are out for The Thing That Won’t Go Away to try for the third time to be The First President with Lady Bits. Yes, Hillary has a new book out called Resilience with THE single sappiest cover photo I have ever seen in my life. I would personally kill myself if I ever managed to look that simpering and phony. It’s kind of a combination of Gidget and Kim Il Sung, looking bravely but smugly into the future. That nose-in-the-air with the penumbra of a slight halo, worked very well in photos for the god-like Lowerer of Oceans.

Unfortunately, Kacklin’ Kamala was “President” for the duration of Vacuous, Vacationing Dementia Boy’s colonoscopy, so that real historical moment has passed for Hillary. But cue the “Glass Ceiling” imagery once more. At least, if EVER there is a definitive investigation of the 2020 election, Hillary could claim that Kamala was not actually “elected”. (Hahaha, I kid. Not a shred of evidence remains of that outrageous event. Heck, anybody who watches TV knows that most crimes not solved in the first 48 hours never get solved.)

Although it seems early to be shopping for a candidate, this is known in the political game as “running it up the flagpole to see who salutes it.” Or Premature Pure Panic. The putative “incumbent” is all but recumbent. And the “Woman of Color” (Beige) that the doddering old fool promised to choose as Vice President – the only campaign promise he managed to fulfill – has turned out to be an embarrassment beyond imagining. Nobody is going to vote for a woman whose only accomplishment so far has been to get her weird, scrawny stepdaughter a job as a model.

We will know if The Democrat Party is serious about it if the Clinton Crime Family’s “Charity” suddenly sees an uptick in donations. The Pay for Play Fund has seen a precipitous drop-off – perhaps so bad that they can no longer pay their daughter $600,000 a year to have her name on the letterhead. Whatever the pretend mission of the grift – wells in Africa? Huts in Haiti? Who knows? What difference does it make now? – you could buy a heckuva lot of “charity” for even HALF of Chelsea’s salary.

Man, I guess I just didn’t have the foresight to make nepotism work for me. When I worked for MY father in his drugstore, which was not technically voluntary, I got paid exactly what everybody else did to start – 65 cents an hour. Worked my way up to $1.00 an hour by the fifth summer!

So if Hillary is going to take another run (or stumble and lurch) at it, she has probably right now got a Thesaurus Consultant Team looking for a worse word than “Deplorable.” “Vermin” and “extermination” were so yesterday in Hitler’s Germany. The Bad “C” Word has been directed at the President’s daughter. They are going to need to coin a whole new word. “Rayciss” will be in there somewhere for sure. “Treason,” “insurrection,” “worse than 9/11, the Civil War, AND Pearl Harbor.” Can’t wait.

There’s no way she or any Democrat candidate can run on xer record. So it will have to be 100 percent nasty and divisive all day every day. With a total shutdown of all non-approved channels of information. It will also entail lying on a massive scale not yet seen, even on CNN, in Pravda, or at a singles bar at closing time.

The first time, The Hilldebeast got beat by a man, albeit a black man, so she couldn’t whine quite as much. The second time, she also got beat by a man, although a white – some say orange – man with a heavy Queens accent, weird hair, a passion for fighting, and a penchant for winning. When I watched The Apprentice one season when a friend’s daughter was a contestant, little did I dream one day I would come to love that absurd guy!

Few people in either wing of the Uniparty said Trump could get the nomination. Many said it was just a stunt to PRETEND to run while somehow monetizing that; and after he DID get the nomination – walking away – every comic, talking head and turncoat Republican said he could not beat Hillary. When he beat her like a rented mule, the same bleating bloviators said that (pick one) he somehow suppressed the black vote or Russia changed the voting machines.

Hillary herself blamed sexism and the fact that millions of “womxn” WERE going to vote for her, but then their husbands forced them to vote for Trump. Some feminist that girl – she believes that women are too stupid even to figure out how to vote for whomever they choose in a SECRET BALLOT.

And so it begins. Hillary is doing Navy Seal training to be pitched like a sack of wheat into a waiting van. She is studying with professional stuntwomen how to fall down stairs with the grace that has hitherto eluded her. She is perfecting her trademark cough. Her Karen Corps are as busy as Madame Defarge knitting new little genital caps, although this time there will be a prominent disclaimer on every hat declaring that men can have those kitty parts too. (“Let’s put the ‘men’ in ‘menstruate’”!)

Trump will run on his awesome record of energy independence and exports, full employment for any and all who wanted to work, secure borders, and the Abraham Accords. Hillary will go on like a broken record about sexism, raacism, homophobia, xenophobia, acrophobia, transphobia, and mindless bigotry against Minor Attracted People. He will squash her like a bug on a biker’s windshield. My dream team would be Trump and DeSantis together, but I’m open to suggestion. As long as we go for principled street fighters, we should be fine – no “categories,” please, just competent, tough PATRIOTS of any gender, color, or sexuality. Saw a bumper sticker on a Silverado in town yesterday: Mean Tweets 2024. Please, God.

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