There’s No Line at the Mechanical Bull

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By David Glenn Cox

As a public service, we bring you yet another chapter in our continuing focus on the end of Republican days. Roger Stone says, if little Ronnie DeSantis runs against Donald Trump in 2024, “It will be treachery” and “The most stunning act of ingratitude ever!”

Of course, we remember that Roger Stone is a prostitute, who works for whoever pays him. He’s like one of those dolls; he doesn’t make a sound until somebody puts money in and pulls his string. To play out any scenario they’d like to play out. So, here’s another clue for you all. “I made him! I mean, Trump made him Governor of Florida. He should appreciate me; I mean him. He’d be nothing without me! I mean without Trump.”

Yes, Donald Trump that rascally rabbit, has sicked his attack dog on to Ron DeSantis. (I’m loving it.) “You’d better not! I’m warning you! Step across this line! Knock this chip off my shoulder!”

Come on now, give the devil his due. Trump’s personal tax case, his business tax evasion case, the Georgia voter fraud case, The January 6th committee. The stolen documents case, rape charges pending, and he still has time to attempt a Tonya Harding on little Ronnie DeSantis. Friends, that is some excellent time management! Admit it! If you were under such a legal stain and threw in Don Jr. and Erc. Hobbling little Ronnie, would be the very last thing on your radar.

Could it be? I mean is it possible? That Trump believes in that diseased collection of cheeseburger drenched brain cells, that he has a snowball’s chance in Miami, of being reelected to the Presidency?

Let’s see; Trump won in 2016 on a technicality, while losing the popular vote.  In 2020, Trump straight up lost. He is less popular now than at any time ever before in his career, and carrying even more baggage than ever before. Load that pertinent data into our Politabot 9000 computer, and it will tell you he can’t win, period. Unless maybe, nine people ran for the Presidency and still, he’d be a long shot.

I smell a Norma Desmond here, “I’m still big! It’s the pictures that have gotten smaller.” Dreaming the impossible dream. (someone had better get those doorknobs) The castaway who sees smoke on the horizon, dreaming and hoping for salvation so much so, he sees the smoke of phantom ships. A limerence fantasy relationship with reality.

“I can still save this. I’ll get reelected and then it will be fine again. It’ll be just like the old days. Then I can make all the cops and investigations just go away. And then I’ll show em, you bet! I’ll show em all!

But to you and I, anchored in the iron shoes of reality and not living in Xanadu South. Maybe, we fail to clearly see the plan where the investigations and court cases, all just magically melt away. But it is the only hope Trump has, and we’re in the late innings here. Without his reelection Trump is doomed. Doomed to be ground down on the lathe of heaven under the weight of his Marley chains. The Lilliputians have finally got him tied down securely.

There is no escape for Trump, except through fantasy. I had wondered, if it wasn’t all just a pretext to get the hoosters to keep their wallets open a while longer. If he ever lets on to them, he wasn’t running, that money stream would dry up. And it would finally come down on him and he would have to admit that it’s all over. Look at yourself in the mirror Tommy!

A funny thing happened on the way down to Wall Street. Margie Greene invested heavily in the stock of the parent company of Trump’s “Truth” website. Since the date of purchase, the stock has lost 83% of its value. But you have to admit, that’s putting your money where your mouth is…in the trash.

Wisconsin embarrassment Ron Johnson says, he is “Well Aware” of children using litter boxes in school. But if he was actually well aware, he wouldn’t say such flat earthy ignorant statements.

Public schools are buying cat litter. To use as an emergency toilet, less the children be locked down in their classroom with an active shooter in the building, without a toilet.

But see Ron, would rather believe a fantasy where children from coast to coast have finally woken, to the realization they would prefer to live as house cats. And the woke parents and public-school officials have decided to indulge the children in their preference and so, provide the children with a litter box. Lest they break their fragile little spirits. What kind of Moron believes such non-sense?

Ted Cruz… never mind. What could I possibly write to lower your opinion of Ted Cruz? My mother used to say, “That you could always think of something nice to say about someone.” I answer, “He’s not here!”

But Little Ronnie DeSantis is being asked to explain, why Florida tax dollars were used to move migrants from Texas? Little Ronnie was also ordered to return over $200,000 in an illegal campaign scheme and hasn’t done it yet. Maybe they’ll forget, huh?

But when the polls close next week, it begins the actual Presidential campaign season. Stand and deliver, put up or shut up. No more shadow candidacy. Would he really run again? It is a lot of work, whereas with a fantasy candidacy, he can just play pretend. Call out the dogs on his assumed rivals. “Doesn’t he know who I am? He wouldn’t dare! Just you wait, I’ll show him!”

A Trump Presidential run in 2024, would be to the Republican Party the equivalent of a real sharp stake in the hands of a qualified Vampire hunter. Tearing the Republican Party a sunder. DeSantis vs. Trump! The thriller in Jacksonviller. A cage match, two go in but only one comes out (Finish Him!)

What would happen dear friends, if Trump comes in second in the New Hampshire Primary or third? How Pagliacci the sad clown will bellow out his tears. Claiming victory has been snatched away from him yet again, by the cruel hand of the Deep State. The Deep State of Non-Comprehension. The Deep State of reality rejection. The little imaginary line between real and wanna be real.

In wanna be real, he’s still the President running again for reelection in a time warp. There are no investigations, and no one wants to see his taxes or read his texts. This is like the good ole days! Remember the good old days? Back when it was all new and exciting? “Gosh, I guess I need to name my new cabinet and write my Inaugural speech. I bet the crowds, will be even bigger than last time!”

The weight of all those packages, until the little shelf can no longer hold them all and breaks down. Spilling all the packages on to the floor in a jumble. Pretending that everything is alright and is going to be fine.  Because he cannot allow himself to ever accept the reality even for a second, that it’s all over. Time marches on… without him. There’s no line at the mechanical bull.

“I’m ready for my close-up now, Mr. Deville.”

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