avatarT. Kent Jones

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2003

Abstract

sh everyone who voted by mail or voted early. The libs were given life-or- death voting information –at full volume — but they couldn’t be bothered to PAY ATTENTION. If these so-called “educated” shitheads won’t learn, why should their votes count the same as mine?</p><p id="7635">Week Ago Me doesn’t deserve representation.</p><p id="8a9e">By voting by mail, I missed the final fever pitch, the rageful, apocalyptic raining blood climax of the campaign. Why is this phase less important than a calm, rational assessment of the issues? Lizard brain has to eat, too.</p><p id="6ea3">Week Ago Me suppressed my own vote.</p><p id="5d97">Harry Truman said if you can’t stand the heat get out of the kitchen. Truman was a Democrat, and therefore, a child sex trafficker, (I learned that this week, too).</p><p id="323c">He was also exactly wrong.</p><p id="6bf7">Real democracy means staying in the kitchen until the heat of a million shrieking dark money ads raises boiling pustules of truth in your brain.</p><p id="d027">And<i> then</i> you vote.</p><p id="ef29">I will never let me get away with this shit ever again.</p><p id="b8f3">***</p><p id="1611"><i>Thanks to Betsy Denson!</i></p><p id="41a7"><i>The T. Kent Jones <a href="https://medium.com/muddyum/t-kent-jones/home">omnibus </a>never closes. Free Parking!</i></p><div id="bba5" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/election-day-cards-that-say-i-care-c0d29463e1ea"> <div> <div> <h2>Election Day Cards That Say, I Care</h2> <div><h3>Go Vote — that’s not a request</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*bvGWyUY4O8uZTn2_m8A3cQ.png)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="ecef" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/previewing-the-zombi

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MIDTERMS AND CONDITIONS

Stop My Steal

Don’t ever let me do that again

created by CRAIYON

Dear Board of Elections:

You may have received a ballot from me indicating my choices for the 2022 midterm elections.

Throw it out. Burn it. Compost.

That ballot is invalid, a fraudulent attempt to undermine the will of the electorate.

The person who filled out that ballot was not me.

That was Week Ago Me, before seven days of intense political advertising permanently changed the way I think about politics, America and the outer limits of my fight-or-flight response.

Week Ago Me didn’t know anything. I didn’t know the libs were sending pandemic checks to the Boston Marathon Bomber, or that they were hiring 87,000 new IRS agents to audit middle-income families and small businesses, or that they were busy stripping every dime from the police.

Week Ago Me sat with his thumb up his ass while Democrats wallowed in crime, corruption, woke perversions and mind control of every stripe. Week Ago Me hadn’t been force fed hours of ominous voice-overs, a catalog of horrific black and white imagery, and an inbox full of doom.

Week Ago Me voted by mail. I thought it would be a convenient way for me to exercise my civic duty.

Week Ago Me thought he didn’t need that last week of political ads to solidify his opinions on candidates and issues.

Week Ago Me was a gaping asshole.

I was undecided. I just didn’t know it.

Now, fortified by sensory overload, Week Later Me is scared and angry and terrifyingly alive. I want to hurt all the people who hurt me.

I want to punish everyone who voted by mail or voted early. The libs were given life-or- death voting information –at full volume — but they couldn’t be bothered to PAY ATTENTION. If these so-called “educated” shitheads won’t learn, why should their votes count the same as mine?

Week Ago Me doesn’t deserve representation.

By voting by mail, I missed the final fever pitch, the rageful, apocalyptic raining blood climax of the campaign. Why is this phase less important than a calm, rational assessment of the issues? Lizard brain has to eat, too.

Week Ago Me suppressed my own vote.

Harry Truman said if you can’t stand the heat get out of the kitchen. Truman was a Democrat, and therefore, a child sex trafficker, (I learned that this week, too).

He was also exactly wrong.

Real democracy means staying in the kitchen until the heat of a million shrieking dark money ads raises boiling pustules of truth in your brain.

And then you vote.

I will never let me get away with this shit ever again.

***

Thanks to Betsy Denson!

The T. Kent Jones omnibus never closes. Free Parking!

Click the skull. Join the party.

Brand art courtesy of David Todd McCarty
Satire
Midterm Elections
Politics
Political Advertising
Kent Jones
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