Cut Biden Some Slack

Yesterday – like any other day – Joe Biden said something stupid.

During a phone call with the family of a fallen soldier he implied – yet again – that his son died in Iraq:

My son spent a year in Iraq, that’s how I lost him.

That’s not how he lost him.

His son Beau died from brain cancer in America; and his other son, Hunter, the deadbeat crackhead, started fucking his dead brother’s widow within months, because he’s also an ignominious scumbag who’s addicted to whores.

But cut the President some slack, will you?

He’s ancient. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He has the mental capacity of a retarded baboon. His mind is aimlessly drifting through space.

Every day Joe Biden has to be reminded who the fuck he is à la 50 First Dates and they inject him with all kinds of weird concoctions just to get him through the day.

He smells; he wears a diaper. He’s revived about twice a week because he keeps dying of old age.

In a functional society a man like this would be taken to a field and shot in the back of the head, but America is no such thing.

In America, a man like this can become President.

But cut him some slack. He’s a fucking ghoul.


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