Last night the orange turd was baited into being his unhinged self, but instead of playing to his homies at one his insipid rallies, he was demonstrating to the mega millions tuned into ABC’s greatest show on earth that he is so full of lunatic shit that not even a full body diaper could have saved him from himself.
Kamala had two objectives last night: One, to present herself as Presidential to those that did not know a lot about her, and two, to get under Trump’s orange and sagging skin. She nailed both objectives, mopping the floor with the turd’s orange flop of Rogaine induced hair.
And the orange turd had only one objective for the night – Don’t take the bait. Except everyone knew the stupid ass hat would never be able to accomplish anything remotely close to that objective. And while the sane analysts on Fox even admitted he shat the bed, most of his deplorable suck-ups were quick to blame ABC for ganging up on poor, poor Donnie-dumb-fuck. As if ABC had devised this insidious plan to ask a question and just let Donnie-dumb-fuck answer it. Wouldn’t you know, he walked right into their trap! How dare ABC moderators let Donny talk. It’s so unfair! Letting him blither and dither and make a fool of himself in front of the cameras. It’s rigged! Rigged I tell you!
And of course Donnie-dumb-fuck went unhinged as soon as Kamala dropped the bait about his rally crowds getting bored and leaving early. That was the trigger that got him going bat shit crazy, leading to the greatest and most Presidential oratory I have ever seen:
“in Springfield, THEY’RE EATING THE DOGS. the people that came in, they’re eating the cats. they’re eating— they’re eating the pets of the people that live there. and this is what’s happening in our country.”
I have said this often, but you really can’t make this shit up.
This from Lee Siegel, I found to be a fairly good summary:
As Trump blustered and came apart, Harris’s mediocrity fell away. As he wrecked himself on the rocks of his obsessions, her shallows became depths. She stopped clearing her throat, her trembling voice grew strong, expressions of patient affliction, alternating with a certain narrow-eyed, seething incredulity, began to flow naturally across her face. Lacking originality and charm, she drew vitality from Trump’s bile and rage. In 2016, enough Americans were mesmerised by the utter newness of Trump’s brazen iconoclasm and insults to make him president. In 2024, after a pandemic, racial convulsions, revolutions in patterns of work and in mores, Americans watched rapt last night as perhaps the most ordinary human to ever run for president responded to lies, and menace, and insults by pulling herself together into a recognisable personality. People didn’t need to know who Harris was. They watched as she became Kamala Harris.
You go girl! And topped off with an eloquent endorsement from Taylor Swift, it was a good night for the Kamala crowd, and a good night for the country. As of this morning, Swift’s endorsement already received 8.5 million likes. With any kind of lift from the Swifties, Kamala could negate any shortfall from the young white tech bros, who seem to be leaning more and more to Donnie-dumb-fuck.
What, if any, impact last night had on voters is TBD. The instant poll from CNN had two thirds of viewers calling her the winner. But, this is still a close race. I doubt Donnie-dumb-fuck’s handlers will let him do another debate, but you never know. And it will be interesting to see how Kamala and her handlers proceed from here after a strong night. Will she expose herself to more press conferences? Become more public as her stature and confidence grows? Or will she continue to keep a low profile leading up to the vote?
A couple of impacts we know for sure is that Kamala’s performance inspired another $25 million in small dollar donations, while Donnie-dumb-fuck’s led to a 15% drop in Untruth Social’s stock price.
Donnie, you are such a loser. Give it up now, plead out, and maybe President Harris will grant you a pardon and keep you out of the big house. Personally, I hope you rot in jail in an orange jump suit that clashes with your skin tone.
Brad out.
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