Listen, I’m a guy that rolls with the punches. To wit: last week, my neighbor made a big stink about my rose bush sticking out onto his driveway, and I didn’t smash his fucking head with a crowbar. Instead, I stuck a knife in all of his car tires and his cat. And the voodoo doll I made of him with burlap and a lock of his hair that I cut off his head while he was sleeping. And so maybe, yeah, he died or whatever, under what the authorities called “mysterious circumstances”. BUT. I didn’t smash his fucking head with a crowbar for giving me lip. And that is just one reason why I’m the President.
The More Things Change, the More the Voices in My Head Tell Me to Kill