The GOP is my dog
The dog shits outside in the rain, I still have to pick it up. And now my house smells like wet dog so maybe I spray some Febreze.
Meanwhile my dog is spending the rest of his day licking his junk wondering when I'm going to feed him again.
I keep trying to find the point, but there really isn't one. My dog is going to shit somewhere and I am going to clean it up; one of these assholes is going to be POTUS and we're going to be stuck picking up the shit.
|I wish I just stayed in Cabana 18.|