In Which Our Intrepid Blogger Delivers a Warning
The old election sign by the side of the road once read
BERNIE
2020
but, bent by the weight of the wet, heavy February snow, it now reads instead
RNIE
2020
Naturally, as I drive by, my witch's eye automatically reads
HORNIE
2020
Old Hornie for President? I find myself thinking. F*ck, I'd vote for Him any day of the Moon.
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Good riddance to bad rubbish.
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The snow, like the truth, has been burying the most stubborn of Trump signs still scattered around our village.