When Hillary Met Bill.

Listened to the love story of Hill and Bill as told by Bill last night.  Aw.  “In 1971, I met a girl.”

What can I say about that, looking back at the long vista of years since they met, forty-five times has the sun circled the earth, telling such a tale of love.  Aw.

I truly cannot and will not write here my opinions and impressions of the people attending the DNC, the people outside the arena protesting, advocating for legalization of pot, dumping water on Geraldo Rivera’s head; burning the American flag, stating (with handkerchiefs over the lower half of their faces) that they hate America but why should they go somewhere else since they’re from here; the mothers of black young men who were killed by police officer, such as Michael Brown’s mom and Trayvvon Martin; no family of slain police officers; no mention of Isis; the threat of global warming; America Ferrera stating Donald Trump would claim she was a rapist; Elizabeth Banks complete bombing in her joke about the fog machine; the people not knowing where Hillary actually stood on anything but never mind, she made it, she’s a woman, that’s the bottom line;  I truly will not comment here on my opinion because I think even I would be shocked at what I would say, perhaps be extremely disappointed in myself for such a low lapse from Christianity.  So, I won’t go there.  The most I will say that the bulk of these people are like a sub-culture, like the Moonies, or, no I won’t go that low.  It’s like they’re living in an alternate reality.  And they can vote.

 

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