The nice petting gent of the excited states, Joe ‘BFD’ Biden, took some time out from his riveting appearance in front of a circus tent in Pennsylvania to vent some righteous indignation in Donald Trump’s general direction.
Even though, Joe doesn’t realize that paraplegics can’t stand; even though Joe thinks that Franklin Roosevelt was president during the 1929 stock market crash and then went on TV to explain it; and even though Joe doesn’t know the glaring difference between gamut and gambit, the man clearly means business. Note the steely gaze; the pregnant pauses; the stentorian delivery; the professional hair restoration.
Note, too, the audience’s apparent approval of sexual assault as a concept, or maybe just as a Clinton campaign ‘attactic’.
Biden: But what he said he did and does is a textbook definition of sexual assault.
Crowd: thunderous applause (Translation: “Yeah, give it up for rape! Woo-woo-woo!”)
And thanks to Joe, we now know why the media can’t be bothered to investigate any of the many accusations of totally legal, painfully ethical, and achingly moral activities by Hillary Clinton and/or her campaign. It’s because they spend all their time badgering Biden about a nonsensical and absolutely irrelevant hypothetical.
Biden: The press always asks me, don’t I wish I were debating him. No, I wish we were in high school I could take him behind the gym, that’s what I wish.
Crowd: thunderous applause (Translation: “Yeah, give it up for battery! Woo-woo-woo!”)
Now there’s an image: two pugilistic septuagenarians with the linguistic prowess of fifth-graders, the temperament of third-graders and the intelligence of first-graders duking it out behind some high school in Jersey because it’s neutral turf, man.
JOSEPH ROBINETTE BIDEN: BUSTIN’ SKULLS FOR THE LADIES!
Helpless women, rejoice! For you have a valiant defender in the man who not only likes to swim naked in front of his female Secret Service detail, but who literally cannot keep his hands off of any woman—or child—who passes within fourteen feet of him.
Because he’s the hero women deserve
—even though some of them are technically girls,
or boys,
or cops—
but not the one they need right now. Or ever.
So he’ll hunt them.
Because his hair plugs can take it.
Because he’s not a maestro.
He’s a silent gropian,
a watchful molester,
a White Knight.
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