For a week, it was worth a giggle. A flustered trackside nascar reporter attempting to avoid cursing on the news? That’s hilarious. Like every joke and/or horse, it was rapidly beaten past death. The body still receives unironic thwacks to this day.
Then it was revived as satire and resumed being funny for a fresh week or two. This was over a year ago. The horse is not just dead, it is not even a paste or powder, it has been completely aerosolized in a closed crimson room where people fan it back and forth in remembrance of beating its corpse.
Biden’s the best chance for continued democracy in the US, but I’ve been breathing in Brandon particulate since 2021 and I’m afraid it will give me lung cancer.
That’s most definitely an option, but it does little good. If you’d like to see yourself represented, I recommend local elections. National elections are only good for stemming the bleeding whereas local can offer a surprisingly vast allotment of improvements. The pacifist’s prayer is worth infinitely less than the chud’s vote.