i’m just itching for a fight

To my great and everlasting regret, I’ll never have a chance to face Sideshow Don and rip him a new one. I do fantasize about such an encounter, though. A bunch.

I picture myself standing squarely in front of him, brimming with the typical animosity, and clarifying what a steaming pile of shit he truly is in meticulous detail. I’d unload the complete and unabridged edition of grievances — everything from his vulgar behavior to his profound ignorance, from his racism and misogyny to his corruption and abuse of power, from his abject cruelty to his creepy choice of ‘friends’ (I prefer co-conspirators). With each and every point, I’d poke him in the forehead, with a meat tenderizer, to assure I had his attention.

I’m pretty sure he’d cry. Oh, he’d call me dopey names at first, but eventually he’d cross his arms, put on his pouty face, and start wailing like a schoolgirl. Sideshow Don is more than just a weakling, you know, he’s also thin-skinned. Copious tears would be shed. 

And this, my friends, is how I cheer myself up from the daily assaults on normalcy and order. I daydream about demolishing an old, failed, monotonous, self-serving, sinkhole of a human being. It brings me happiness.

See, I resent bullies, especially the stoopid ones in positions of power. And I really resent being treated with disdain and contempt, although I find it oddly transforming. It charges me up. And pisses me off. And focuses my mind like a laser. Then, shazam, words shoot out of me with uncharacteristic eloquence. No actual thinking is involved, either; my brain shuts down and my mouth goes on autopilot. I simply stand there and listen, wondering where the sharp logic is coming from. Not me. I’m misguided, not logical, so who the heck am I channeling?

I’ve no idea.

Sideshow Don’s latest racist tirade is, of course, iniquitous and menacing, but the bigger outrage is the Republican party. If there is a God (which the indecency of the ‘Christian’ right tends to disprove) no Republican will ever again be elected to serve in this country. Not even their meddlesome pals in Russia will be able to save their pasty white skin.

As for the lunkheads who mindlessly chant (in three-syllables or less, please) lock her up and send her back and no-bel, I crafted a rabid chant to drown it all out: you’re such chumps. It works nicely. Now, kindly stick your heads back in the sand (or wherever) and leave ’em there. Thank you.

copyright © 2019 little ittys

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