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chhotiiSo, I get it. I voted for Bernie in the primary too. I have never loved Hillary; I've disagreed with her on various things over the years and yes, she did make a big stupid mistake with the e-mail server. It was indeed a tearful moment when Sanders made that motion at the end of the roll-call.
But I CANNOT listen to you talk trash about Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine right now. I really have zero patience with your bitter complaints about how the Democratic party is run. It's like... How do I explain? Imagine the following scenario:
You and I are chained together at the wrist. After wandering through the woods, we have been captured and imprisoned in a turret by a gigantic orange homicidal ogre. On the walls of the ogre's dwelling are hung many axes, which he is constantly sharpening, and many chain-saws, which he is constantly oiling. He stomps around blustering about how he is going to dismember us. Tonight is the night he cooks stew, which means we go into the pot. I hear him stomping up the stairs, revving his chainsaw.
I hear an engine drive up?... and a strange sound?... We go out on the balcony of the turret and see a cherry picker rising up to meet the balcony. Someone is here to rescue us, just in the nick of time! Is it the handsome and charming Prince Bernard, who is known to ride around on his great white horse and rescue people? To think he has a cherry picker in addition to a great white horse! *swoon* But no, as the cherry picker gets closer I see it's driven by Froggit, the farting, acne-pustule covered, slightly irritating jester. Well, never mind. All I can think is cherry picker. On to the cherry picker. Escape from the the ogre.
As I try to leap towards the cherry picker, though, the chain on my wrist catches me and holds me back. You are standing like a stone. You are muttering "oh no, not Froggit. Where's Prince Bernard? Odious Froggit. Are you sure you trust Froggit enough to get into his cherry picker? You know, I was forced to lodge with him in a inn one time, and he thought it was funny to poke me in the neck with a paint-brush as I was trying to fall asleep." Meanwhile at the top of the stairs appears the ogre, brandishing two axes, three chainsaws, and a harpoon...
OMG FUCK just shut up and get on the cherry picker now now now
Hillary might be Froggit, sure. But everyone from Bernie Sanders to Michael Bloomberg is trying to suggest that you should just get on the cherry picker already.
But I CANNOT listen to you talk trash about Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine right now. I really have zero patience with your bitter complaints about how the Democratic party is run. It's like... How do I explain? Imagine the following scenario:
You and I are chained together at the wrist. After wandering through the woods, we have been captured and imprisoned in a turret by a gigantic orange homicidal ogre. On the walls of the ogre's dwelling are hung many axes, which he is constantly sharpening, and many chain-saws, which he is constantly oiling. He stomps around blustering about how he is going to dismember us. Tonight is the night he cooks stew, which means we go into the pot. I hear him stomping up the stairs, revving his chainsaw.
I hear an engine drive up?... and a strange sound?... We go out on the balcony of the turret and see a cherry picker rising up to meet the balcony. Someone is here to rescue us, just in the nick of time! Is it the handsome and charming Prince Bernard, who is known to ride around on his great white horse and rescue people? To think he has a cherry picker in addition to a great white horse! *swoon* But no, as the cherry picker gets closer I see it's driven by Froggit, the farting, acne-pustule covered, slightly irritating jester. Well, never mind. All I can think is cherry picker. On to the cherry picker. Escape from the the ogre.
As I try to leap towards the cherry picker, though, the chain on my wrist catches me and holds me back. You are standing like a stone. You are muttering "oh no, not Froggit. Where's Prince Bernard? Odious Froggit. Are you sure you trust Froggit enough to get into his cherry picker? You know, I was forced to lodge with him in a inn one time, and he thought it was funny to poke me in the neck with a paint-brush as I was trying to fall asleep." Meanwhile at the top of the stairs appears the ogre, brandishing two axes, three chainsaws, and a harpoon...
OMG FUCK just shut up and get on the cherry picker now now now
Hillary might be Froggit, sure. But everyone from Bernie Sanders to Michael Bloomberg is trying to suggest that you should just get on the cherry picker already.
