Anger seeping,
holes picked and glaring,
teeth barred, spittle, with eyes staring.

Chest out,
Exposed claws and horns blaring,
Blood spills, heart beats cease with flesh tearing.

Raised voices,
and lack of caring,
Emotions high and facts hold no bearing.

That was the mood, as

Wall building,
overbearing Wig began declaring
that we need to start bombing.

Crowds whoop,
I’ll make us great again,

I’ll make us great again.

I’ll start with me,
Donate now and you will see,
that I’ll make America great again.

Yes, I’ll make America great again,
I’ll get rid of the Islam and the Mexicans,
the Gays and the Womens
And I’ll make America great again.

That’s not fair I love them all,
the blacks and hispanics,
KKK, and the more manic, the better.
Drug dealers, rapists, etc. etc.

See, I’m pro life and pro choice,
and I know business,
Donate now and be my apprentice.
Donate now for matriculation,
(and boycott donations,)
Send now for your steaks kids,
Donate now for your graduation,
and don’t forget…

I’ll make America great again.
I’ll make America great again.

---

 

I realized a couple of weeks ago that I’d missed the anniversary of something which I don’t think needs celebrating but certainly needed commemorating – the anniversary of the death of Hunter S. Thompson.
The campaign trail lives on in the bedrooms and minds of those who are free to follow it, literally and metaphorically. In an age when we don’t need to leave our desk to follow the misgivings of what is surely the worlds largest and longest recorded boob sighting, we sorely miss the scorn and comment of someone who could divide and unite like Hunter S. Thompson.
I’m not sure I have his wit, bravery or endurance but I don’t think many people ever did.
I can at least buy the ticket.

In terms of Trump and Super bloody Tuesday, well he’s been a naughty girl and he let his knickers down. The man has shown himself to be a complete imbecile. I hope for the sake of the world that people vote for one of the other nutters and then Bernz or Hilz will come  to save us and let us suckle (as they drone strike our biological mothers.)

Mr Hummels