Sunday, April 23, 2017

April 23, 2017

Dear Diary,

Today is actually a very exciting day, considering it's Sunday. Usually, Sundays are very sleepy days, when you can slip big stories past the press because everyone's either in church or at some diner wolfing down French Toast and coffee.  Of course, Sunday is the lord's day, which I don't give a rat's ass about gives the peasants working people time to relax and reflect on their miserable proletarian lives pasts and futures.

Today, however, is the first round of you-know-whats in France, and the entire world is watching!  I'd watch, too, but Dr. Morell says I'm still having trouble handling reality the truth any excitement, so I thought I'd jot a few of my innermost thoughts down.

Let's face it, the non-male that everyone is talking about is Marine Le Pen, who looks as if she's on the same track as Carrot Head was during our you-know-what.  She started out with very low poll numbers, but now people are saying she has a real shot at taking the crown becoming President over there, which conflicts me.

On the one hand, she's not my type.  I like brunettes, and as long as we have the wish list out, I prefer them younger and slimmer.  And she needs to do something about her eyes.  Whoever is doing her make up needs to bring them out more, because right now they look like two tiny blue thumb tacks pushed on to a potato.

On the other hand, I have to give her credit, because she calls out muslim thugs doesn't hold back her opinions. She's smart, too. Instead of taking bribes donations from arabs special interests, somehow she gets them to stage terror attacks just before the elections.  That's pretty good. I wish Podesta were that smart, but the best he could ever do was serve up a tray of strong martinis.

Also, Marin's father was a Nazi, and some people think that could put a crimp in things. But anyone who's picked up a history book knows that the French practically passed out party hats when the Nazis cruised down the streets of Paris during the second world war, so I doubt that would matter much.  They sold out the Jews faster than a Beatles reunion at Coachella.  Plus, my woman's intuition tells me that the French might be getting tired of neighborhoods filled with the stench of goat stew and screams of genital mutilations attacks on their real estate customs and culture.

Unlike the you-know-whats we have here, the frogs French have a totally different system  They always have to things the hard way.  That's why they don't win any wars.  They have some sort of round robin thing that's a lot more like a White Elephant game that you play at the Christmas office party, so there are all kinds of run-offs and rounds of votes until everyone just gets bored and says, "Fuck it!" and starts drinking an eventual compromise candidate wins.

Then again, those whiny bastards the brave people of France may chicken out like they always do choose a more progressive path, where compassion and acceptance of non-white mongrels muslim immigrants wins the day.  In that case, I'd sell all our real estate there advise Marine to hold her head up high.

And maybe change her name to Mahmuna.

Subscribe for each day's entry by Email!