Sweet merciful Zeus.
I didn’t watch last night’s Democrat debate. Mostly because I don’t have a death wish. Nor do I particularly like the idea of being nauseous for over two hours. I get enough of that having Lupus. Besides, I’ve been sober for over twelve years, and I’d like to keep it that way.
However, while tootling around Twitter last night, I saw plenty of pictures of Hillary Clinton’s hideous outfit. It was hard to miss.
I took one look at that yellow smock and thought, “Beam me up Scottie.”
Back in March I joked about how Hillary, instead of becoming President, should be hired by NASA for the first manned (or as the case may be womanned) mission to Mars. Either this woman dresses like she’s Chairman Mao, or she dresses like a Star Trek character.
So, if we don’t shoot her to Mars in a rocket, beam me up Scottie. Because I don’t want to live on a Planet that would permit this wretched hag to be President of the United States.
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