0122 – I fling open my front door and march into my home. It’s been a great night. I make my way into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of red wine, allowing my mind to drift over the past several hours…….
***I walk through the door of the bar. CNN is blaring loudly, just the way I like it. Don Lemon is giving some fool the what for about Drumpf’s treacherous behavior. I get tingles just hearing the passion in his voice.
I swagger to the bar, catching one of the blue-haired honeys eyeing my chic “I’m With Her” fitted polo I had custom designed. I catch her eye and wink, then feel ashamed of myself for violating her space, #MeToo. I order a Black Russian because I’m not racist and nurse it for the next 20 minutes while waiting for my crew to arrive.
45 MINUTES LATER
The gang’s all here. Beverly passes out the black hoodies and masks. We don them and are ready to go. There’s a March for Life event we’ve gotta break up. Can’t have those fascists exercising their right to free speech, can we?***
0147 – I think about how much fun it was running those soccer moms down and smashing their signs right in front of their faces. I mean, who in their right mind believes that, “Babies have just as much right as their mothers to live” or “Their body. Their choice”? These people and their denial of science.
0156 – I finish my wine and go into the living room, where my shrine is located. I kneel before the 20×48 oil painting of Madame Secretary and swear my allegiance and undying loyalty to her. I kiss her cankles and promise that we will see her installed as President, one way or another.
0251 – After my devotions I rise and head to the shower. I strip off my clothes (my pants are stuck to my leg, thanks to getting too exulted in my worship of Madame) and take a cold shower.
0304 – I slide into my leopard printed silk sheets and fantasize of Russian strippers peeing on my face as I drift into sleep.
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