There Will Never Be a Day I Don't Say 'Thank God' for Nov 5

AP Photo/Julia Demaree Nikhinson

In some cases, it has to do with the continuing Democratic and progressive fever dreams.

David Hogg, he of the sunken chest and tiny stick arms, now being recast as a New Age masculine beacon. Charged with leading young males back, Moses-like, into the bosom of a party that still openly despises and denigrates them in public rhetoric at every turn. 

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The uber cool Jasmine Crocketts and AOCs at the head of the progressive parade have no time for the white working-class male that the party desperately needs back.

In most cases, it has to do with the spiraling hysteria on display nearly every single day spewing from the supposed statesmen of the party - the Schumers, the Pelosis, the They Who Should Know Betters. The clowns who traipse off to foreign countries in pursuit of airtime on broadcasts while advocating for illegal alien wife-beating gang members who can't be bothered to answer an actual constituent citizen's concerns about real problems in their district. Who can't be bothered to respond to the murder of a citizen by the very type of vermin they used taxpayer dollars to hold hands and clink margaritas with in a Central American paradise.

There was a dessicated sack of carbon held hostage in the White House so that faceless usurpers could implement their agenda unimpeded by any interference from rational minds, the laws of the land, or the prying eyes of the American people. Aided by a vicious, ruthless, soulless social-climbing spouse, a palace coup was executed by an unelected, unaccountable clandestine cabal behind the scenes, and entirely enabled by a supine, gaslighting, virtue-signaling, and obstructive American media complex.

I refuse to call them 'journalists' anymore. They are the darkness democracy nearly died in.

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Thank God for November 5th, and the ghastly, un-American, unconstitutional truths we are now able to uncover.

Their 'leaders' now, who, perhaps because of their own craven stolen valor and inadequate manhood, celebrate the death of a drug-addled, wife-beating thief instead of our fallen Americans in uniform.

Walz's Memorial Day Xweet, pathetic as it was, was hastily thrown up in the furious backlash over his rhapsodic epicedium to St George of Floyd.

This brain-damaged, shifty, stuttering sack of rancid suet was nearly our vice-president.

And he keeps on talking as if he has some relevance.

I don't know - maybe he does.

Maybe he keeps talking to remind us how very blessed we were that Trump turned his head and that agent on the golf course saw the glint of a barrel.

And that's where I get my other nudges to thank God for November 5th. 

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Every time another Kamala clip surfaces, it's all I can do not to break out in a cold sweat at how close we came.

Oh, dear God, what an imbecile.

And today is the first time I've seen this clip, and it's the reason for this post.

The 'Oh, thank God, thank you Jesus' reason for this post.

She really, really is that bad. 

The Democratic Party is really, really that lost. That hopelessThat devoid of ethics and integrity.

Woof. Missed it by that much.

Thank God.

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