Today the cute little tragic dog didn’t feel so cuddly.
Call it MAGA Withdrawal Syndrome.
I remember the good old days, like 2017, back when you had no idea what the President was going to Tweet. It might be benignly pleasant or furiously rude. You just never knew what to expect from a Trumpian Tweet.
The suspense is over.
There will be no more waiting for Presidential (quasi-personal account) Tweets.
Gone are his goofy dark serenades of gibberish and assault on the mediocre banality of mainstream Liberalism.
Now we have this.
A boring puppet who has the Democratic masters’ fingers so high up his senile ass that his face looks like it’s ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. Oh wait; that’s because he’s like 104 years old. Or somewhere near it.
We were entertained by the doomed amusement of 2016-2020.
Now we have a boring rehash of a mainstream President spewing mainstream vapidities. Biden stands for nothing substantial, says nothing substantial, symbolizes nothing memorable.
Four-year hibernation inbound.