by J.B. Shurk, American Thinker:
The more I see of Tim Walz, the more I realize he’s just a fatter, whiter version of Kamala. They both laugh at inappropriate times. They both say weird things. They both yearn for a communist America. They’re both on the wrong side of the IQ bell curve. If we lived in a society that encouraged talented people to run for political office, Tweedle-Kam and Tweedle-Tim would not be known. Because our political system excels at promoting mediocre minds attached to lost souls, the Democrat Party gives us a babbling baboon and a cackling hyena for veep and president.
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I thought Tweedle-Kam had a monopoly on obnoxious laughing, but I was wrong. Every time a camera pans over to Tweedle-Tim, his head is thrown back in a chortling fit. Every subject seems so funny. Food and fuel costs are a nightmare, Tim. Ha-ha-ha! Foreign nationals are killing Americans on neighborhood streets. Tee-hee-hee! You misrepresented your military rank and service record. Hey now, that’s not funny! You’re right, coward. None of it is funny at all.
It’s increasingly clear that the Tweedle-twins laugh because they have nothing significant to say. Or, rather, anything significant they might say, they can’t admit until after the election. As Nancy Pelosi would tell us, you have to vote the Tweedle-twins into office before you can find out how they plan to screw over America. Nobody wants to vote for open borders and mass amnesty for foreigners. Nobody wants to vote for more spending and inflation. Nobody wants to vote for social credit scores and expanded government regulation. Because the Tweedle-twins can’t say what they want, they must laugh during all the awkward silence. It’s just weird.
But Democrats are the party of weird. For them, moms and dads are boring. Families are bad. White people are evil. And individual liberty is repulsive. They are the party of she-hes, xirs, poly-whatevers, and subjective truths. They don’t have time to think about sound money or global peace because they’re too busy fighting linguistic battles against hetero-cis-normativity, unconscious bias, systemic racism, and the dreaded patriarchy. They are very serious when they tell you that “men” get pregnant and that “women” pee standing up. They want you to know that Jews can’t be trusted, except the ones who give money to their campaigns. They want you to know that war is nothing but slaughter for profit, except the one in Ukraine. They want you to know that too many criminals are behind bars and that too many political foes are still free. They want you to know that this country is such an awful place that we simply can’t keep foreigners from breaking in. They want you to know that only Democrats can save America…by fundamentally transforming it into communist China. Like a heroin addict seeking a quick fix, Democrats inject weird right into their vegan veins.
Dim-Dems keep celebrating Tweedle-Tim as “America’s dad.” Every time I hear it, I throw up a little in my mouth. What kind of dads do Dim-Dems have? Dads go off to war when necessary, protect their families daily, and regularly convey strength. Tweedle-Tim ran from battle and let the Twin Cities burn on his watch. He prances around like a glam girl and is nuttier than a fruitcake. When he was a high school teacher, he volunteered to help students with conflicted feelings about their sexual identities. Maybe all that was on the up-and-up, but when prominent Democrats brag about “Coach Walz” being a “sexual advisor” for adolescents, I find it hard not to picture him wearing an oversized furry costume and begging kids to call him, “Timmy Bear.” (My apologies for putting that weirdness in your brains.) Timmy Bear as “America’s dad” makes about as much sense as RuPaul being “America’s mother.”
No wonder Kamala drinks. But keep that to yourselves because it’s a secret. The corporate presstitutes do their best to hide Tweedle-Tipsy from the public, and the social media censors punish those who notice. Apparently we’re not allowed to talk about the fact that whenever Kam-Kam chats with reporters (not often), she sounds like she’s one chug away from breaking out in a bout of drunken karaoke.
I remember…I remember…this one time…it was beautiful, right…you know what I’m talking about…Britney Spears, right…you go, girl…it’s like when you do something that you didn’t even know you could do until you did it, and you’re like, I did that, didn’t I…so vote for Kamala…I mean me for president…It’s wonderful, right?
Guys (and gals with penises), she’s not drunk. She just has a very serious stutter. Oh, Kamala (I hope you pronounced her name correctly in your mind just now!) has something more to say: Stuttering is a very serious condition, guys…like Joe Biden, he’s the best, right…he has a stutter, and I can’t ever understand anything he says…I must have caught it from him…ha ha…Kamala!…Right?
Right, whatever you say, Kamala! To be sure, the White House has been home to plenty of drunks over the years. But has it ever been home to a half-Indian, half-Jamaican with a fake southern accent who pretends to be from the ‘hood while drinking? (Hillary, put your hand down.) I don’t think so! Now that’s diversity!
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