This is just a friendly, gentle reminder that while you were playing Rambo in DC, we turned the state of Georgia the loveliest, most vibrant shade of blue anyone has ever seen. Which is why my drink of choice tonight is Champaign, and my message to you lot is this:
After you go fuck yourselves for whatever amount of time you deem reasonable — you’re big boys so it’s your choice — please feel free to crack open a cold one, make yourself a nice spam sandwich and chill. Cuz in about five minutes, you’re going to have a great paying job at a wind turbine manufacturing plant, with paid family leave and the month of August off. Plus you will have guaranteed healthcare for you and your family, which will continue even when you’re fired from the wind turbine plant cuz of your meth addiction. (No judgement, been there.) You will hit rock bottom and be arrested when you’re caught cooking meth in your bathtub, but you will NOT be shot by the police or put in prison for a decade. You will receive addiction treatment at a top-notch drug treatment center and beat that monkey right off your back. Good for you!!!
In the meantime, your grandma will live so long due to the availability of affordable, world-class healthcare, you’ll kinda be wishing for death panels so you can finally get your hands on that set of commemorative Christmas plates you’ve always wanted. But please don’t fret, grandma’s demise and the plates are coming eventually. You will also inherit her farm in Kansas, which is NOT a lifeless field of dust next to a toxic stream because grandma and her neighbors have learned about regenerative agriculture. And you’re pasture-raised, grass-fed cows will produce so much delicious organic milk, you’ll finally have enough extra cash to buy yourself a cherry red Tesla electric pickup, which you’ll drive all over the country on your summer vacations, visiting every pristine National Park in the land. And you’ll do so without a care, cuz there’ll be solar-powered charging stations along every highway in every state.
Then, after many happy years of unabashed liberty and comfort, when you’re ready to retire, your children will NOT be moving back home just in time to ruin your plans for a dream retirement on the coast of South Carolina, which will NOT be inundated by 40-foot high, 300-degree waves and inhabited only by mosquitos the size of badgers. (We could not save Florida, sorry.) This is because your children will have become millionaire TikTok stars, which will not make you proud. But who cares cuz that grass-fed organic ice cream cone on the porch of your beach house on the still lovely and temperate shore of South Carolina is just the best thing ever.
So, cheers! Wishing you all the best in the years to come. You’re welcome.