Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Ding! Dong! The Mitch Is Dead!
Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But someday.
Someday—may it be soon—we'll hear the news that the Most Hated Man in America, the Hypocrite of Hypocrites, Obstructionist of Obstructionists, the Slaveholder of the Senate, has met his entirely natural, but long overdue, demise.
And bells of freedom will ring out across the land.
Ding! Dong! the Mitch is Dead!
Ding dong the Mitch is dead.
Which old Mitch?
The wicked Mitch.
Ding dong
the wicked Mitch is dead!
Hi ho the merry-O!
Sing it high,
sing it low:
wake up,
the wicked Mitch is dead!
He's gone where the nazzes go,
below, below, below,
yo ho!
So let's all dance and sing
and ring the bells out.
Hi ho the merry-O!
Sing it high,
sing it low:
let them know
the wicked Mitch is dead!
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I keep getting E-mails that Mitch is tied with his opponent; I think her name is Amy McGrath. I am doing that 40 day prayer ritual to get the voters to hold our elected officials accountable for both their actions and their inactions. I also went and early voted in person at city hall today. May Mitch's retirement come soon.