What's It to Ya, Moby Dick?

I find it hilarious that snobzis are so angry that another layer of skeeze and sleaze has been peeled from that bad combover masquerading as a representative of the party of Abraham Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt.

Don't bother googling snobzis.

I made it up sitting here; it's a snob (which we all know when we see) and a Nazi (however you choose to define the latter) and it describes me and a whole cohort of white (mostly) guys who had the schooling, the opportunity, and the sharpened elbows (look at blazers) to grab for the big bucks and succeeded at it, present company excepted, and are now faux-flummoxed that one of those we never let sit at the cool kids' table has revealed himself to be a scuzzball.

Donald, Donnie, Don. Shame on you and on us. From the moment you glided down the escalator in your Monument to Me namesake building, insulting just about every Mexican and Hispanic as the opening movement of your Self-Love Symphony, we knew who you were: pond-scum. And we knew you didn't care that we knew. Nice touch, that "and I apologize if anyone was offended."

We've spent the last year plus putting lipstick on a pig, mostly as an act of self-deception. The part that makes me smile, or grimace, because they look the same, is why we think any of the 'revelations' about who you really are makes any form of a difference to those who've adopted you as one of their own. And I'm sure we're not done peeling the onion.

And all this time I thought the party's primary interests were Gas, Oil and Petroleum. Learn something new every day, I guess. Attention: Paul Ryan, Mitch McConnel, Mike Pence and all the sucker fish who swim around you: When you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas. Happy scratching.
-bill kenny