Starts as Donna Bash but falls into lap of Vincent Price

[nanana]

Both Harris and Trump seem to be ready to start WWIII but also to be saying that they wouldn't.  For example, Trump seems to want to de-escalate Ukraine, whereas Harris doesn't seem to want to de-escalate Ukraine. Both Trump and Harris seem to want to de-escalate Gaza, but Trump seems to be in Miriam Adelson's pocket about expanding the glass parking lots around Israel to the West Bank, though he also says he'd stop the violence on day one and seems to be making headway among at least Michigan Muslim's population.  I     don't trust either of them to let their fawning voters in on the cigar-room-equivalent back deals.  Biden just called half the country garbage, which not even Lincoln had ever done.  There are at least two faces (trump/harris) maybe even three (RFK Jr) or four (Stein) or five (West) or even our own dear faggot Chase Oliver (Libertarians) in the high heels race to govern.  My baton is burning my hands, and I    am just looking to sneak into a relay race to pass this burning baton to some unsuspecting hermaphrodite in a misgendered port-o-potty and make sweet love while ravens, crows, and other city-birds gobble down evidence of malfeasance of either one or the other bird-party, wearing my sexy clothes to make the faggots submit, or maybe it was to make the doms leak and bulge, fuck I    forget the script, started improvising, suddenly Larry David was voyeuring the audition and asked me to play Janet Yellin in the sisters of Perpetual Indulgence production of Ben Hur meets Empress  Xoe of Byzantium.  I  tried to find a free elephant- or camel-ride on UBER, but they said that the fart tax would be $21000 per intersection, each of which has either a stop sign, a tri-color flashlight gobbling up wind farm credits.  I    decided to shoot myself out of this iOS videogame, ready to break the screen from the inside, but I     knew that my efforts would only simulate owner-tears and cause a long telephone call with an empathy-trained CSR who ultimately was eunuched into offering a $10 discount on a new 10-year plan that offered ONLY a 40%-per-year fee-escalation and connected me with RocketMortgage, who would be willing to bill the first payment to my non-existent great-in-vitro-grandchildren which they would fund in return for permanent ownership.  I    tried to get out of the call by failing a headache, but their neural scans revealed to all, including well-meaning-but-vulnerable "ME" whoever the fuck that is that the speaker was 94.77% likely to be a situational liar.  That was exactly the percentage that my childhood priest estimated when I    was found upside down on a st andrews cross in the confessional at my best friend's church. Oh the webs we weave when we practice to deceive.  

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, YOU FUCKERS, FUCKEES, GLOVES (PASSIVE FISTEES), AND VERSATILE VIRTUALS AND PHYSICALSl, NO MATTER WHAT PARTY(BOY) D / R / L / I    YOU MAY WISH TO HAUNT!