Angry Gasses from the Depths of an Old Coot

Soon we will start the administration of The Pumpkinhead President, the Sequel. My Gawd! Since 2016 we have been going through this. When does it end? Should we have been rooting for the assassins? No. If the Orange Thing that Rules Our Lives had been shot in the head, it would only have made him madder and more Hitler-y. You can’t assassinate someone by shooting them through an organ they don’t have. But I am bone tired of putting up with the Monkeyother Firetrucker (You know which letters to remove.) Everything he does and everything he plans to do hurts me. I invested my life in Education. He plans to eliminate the Department of Education in the Federal Government. My wife is an immigrant from the Philippines. She spent more than twenty years nailing down her US Citizenship. He wants to denaturalize immigrants of color and deport them. For the sake of meanness and petty cruelty. My kids were all born here, but their Birthright Citizenship is going to be removed too. And he is going to slam the economy again in the way that Republicans always do so that I have to choose between buying overpriced medication to stay alive and buying overpriced foodstuffs, allegedly to keep myself alive. And this will be done so he can renew the trillions of dollars in tax cuts he gives to millionaires and billionaires, very few of whom work as hard as I do (even though I am retired.) The gassy turbulence his actions build up in me threatens to explode into firey coot-rants and burn it all down. And I am a man, even as a crazy old coot of a man, who would much rather build things than blow them up. So, let’s find ways to turn down the gasses that the Fartbag Fuhrer generates, and keep me away from open flames while I am still ignitable.