By Nicky Reid aka Comrade Hermit
Exile in Happy Valley
Well, winter is coming with a vengeance and I’m guessing that you’re feeling pretty bummed. I’ve noticed the dayglo orange has drained from your cheeks and your once histrionic tirades have taken on all the petty melodrama of a garden variety adolescent hissy fit. And who could blame you? After months of some of the finest race baiting since Willie Horton danced with the devil in the pale moonlight, after what felt like years of a vast Soros funded conspiracy of Black lesbian Bolsheviks and fire breathing Mau Mau flag desecrators coming to put their filthy Marxist fingers all over a daughter near you, even the excitable suburban soccer moms have agreed that they’d rather spend the next four years with a disintegrating fossil like Biden than the next four minutes with you. Tough blow motherfucker! And usually that would be all I have left to say to a glorified chatroom troll getting his comeuppance but, believe it or not, the two of us have something in common and I think it might just be something worth looking into.
I know what your thinking, what could you possibly have in common with me? On paper we couldn’t be more different. I’m everything you despise; a BLM supporting, Marx quoting, genderqueer anarchist dyke. I “chose” to be a woman and I don’t even have a pussy to grab, just a tiny limp dick like yours and a big set of those things you gave to Bibi Netanyahu for the keys to the White House. I probably disgust you, and trust me honey, the feeling is more than mutual. As far as I can tell, you’ve spent your whole miserable existence failing your way to the top, burning other people’s money like Marlboros just to grab another pack from the taxpayer’s pocket so you can buy more gaudy crap no one on earth needs and get your rocks off next to Bill Clinton with some teenage sex slave on Jeffrey Epstein’s private airline. As far as I can tell, you’re all the toxic byproducts of state sponsored crony capitalism poured into one disgusting lumpy orange beanbag chair and you’ve generally ran the White House like a call girl service for Israel and their head-chopping peace-pals in the Persian Gulf.
But you and I do have one thing in common, however unsettling it might be for either one of us to admit. We share a common enemy. Your worst enemy. Way worse than Antifa hipsters or Muslim immigrants. They’re the motherfuckers who have been aiming for your ass from the Grassy Knoll from the moment you suggested maybe getting along with Putin wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. You call them the Deep State. I just call them the Establishment, and they’re the ones who screwed you out of another four beautiful glorious years of White House shenanigans. They’re the ones who cooked up that casserole of hopped up nonsense called Russiagate to steer your periodically Russophilic ass back onto the Cold War straight and narrow. They’re the ones who’ve been snitching you out every 15 seconds to the fake news, making every shart you took on a peace summit a headline before you could even change your pants. They’re the real enemy, Danny boy. It’s all their fault. The neocon menace that has infested both parties and got Sleepy Joe elected. But I know how to get revenge, Mr. President. I know how you can get even with those sick fucks. You may have had to sweat these creeps for the last four years but I’ve been after them for decades and I know their Achilles heel. I know just how to make them squeal like the little piggies they are.
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