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Hillary And Trump Walk Into A Bar ~ The Election Closes In

lafnqroz

[It is the countdown, folks – so count along.]

~ What’s your poison, Donald?

~ I know what your poison is, Hillary.

~ What’s that?

~ You drink the Kool-Aid.

~ You’re the one who mixes it, Donald. I don’t touch the stuff.

~ It makes you nasty.

~ I’m starting to think you have a fixation on nasty women.

~ I like women.

~ You like to do things to women, Donald. It’s a big difference.

~ They love it.

~ They’d love to let you know how much they love it – I’ll grant you that.

~ So, you get all the women beating up on me, you think it will make you win?

~ A lot more than that is going to make me win.

~ What’s that?

~ You, Donald. You being you. Really, all I have to do is stand there and be superior.

~ They love what I say – the people you help crush. They just love it. Believe me.

~ They love it, Donald.  They love hearing it. But they look at you and they see something they don’t want.

~ What?

~ They don’t want a president who will take them down with him. That’s self-preservation, Donald. Something you’re good at.

~ There’s nothing wrong with looking out after yourself.

~ There’s something wrong about only looking after yourself.

~ You’re kinda hawt when you’re a know-it-all. We could have been quite a team. Taken over the country.

~ Team?

~ You know – married.  I would have got you out of that pantsuit.

~ We would have to get something more than a marriage certificate.

~ What?

~ A murder/suicide pact.

DE

(image)http://www.madhyamam.com/en/sites/default/files/lafnqroz.jpg

Obama And Trump Walk Into A Bar – Election Closes In

bar20fight20morguefile20mcandea_0

 

~ What’s your poison, Donald?

~ The USA is poison – believe me.

~ Not to worry. I’m lancing that for you.

~ You use a sword and you stab in the back.

~ Sword of Justice.

~ And you like to twist it.

~  Look at the Statue of Justice.

~ Isn’t she blindfolded?

~ Yeh – so keep your hands to yourself.

~ A man gets certain thoughts, sometimes.

~ A man keeps them as thoughts, Donald.

~ We gotta put our hands somewhere.

~ Try your pockets.

~ Oh – that shit’s for other people. I get what I want.

~ Not this time.

~ You don’t think I’ll be the 45th president?

~ That slot is reserved for a woman.

~  Ugh – such a nasty woman.

~  Hillary cleaned your clock, Donald.

~ You think so?

~ Wiped the numbers right off your face.

~ When this is over, do you think you could hook us up?

~ With Hillary?

~ Yes.

~ You’ll have to ask Bill.

~ Oh, he won’t mind.

DE

(image)http://news.psu.edu/sites/default/files/styles/threshold-992/public/bar%20fight%20morguefile%20mcandea_0.jpg?itok=AC_X8Igi

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