Donald Trump is a cunt. He has been a cunt for his entire worthless life. He might not be the most racist president, but he is certainly the cuntiest. He is campaigning by being as cunty as any human being has ever been, buoyed by the barbaric whoops of his crowds of cunts. He surrounds his cuntish self with as many cunts as can fit into whatever space he’s in, with his staff of cunts and his cunt family. He’s aided and abetted in his cuntiness by the cunt Republicans in Congress and the cunts in right-wing media who praise him as fulsomely as one might describe a lifeguard who rescued you from a shark. Except that lifeguard is not a cunt and Donald Trump is and he wouldn’t lift a finger to save you.
If you’ve voted already, you know that feeling of hope and anxiety and promise, a suppressed giddiness that is overwhelmed by our 2016 PTSD. You just felt good voting that cunt out of office. It was like you got to say, “Yeah, Donald Trump, you cunt, take that” as you dropped your ballot in the box or the mail. You allowed yourself to imagine how enraged and scared that cunt is gonna be when he loses. If he loses. No, when he loses.