His dementia is so powerful and so amplified by the media that upon his death even our own memories of him will disappear. The severed thread of fate will lie limp upon the ground and the world will rot on without knowing why.
Sleepy Joe yearns to return to his sarcophagus, for his wake cycle is at an end, and he has obtained enough adrenochrome to sustain his dreamless slumber for another aeon
No, he's made the final transformation into Dark Brandon and has absconded to the Florida Everglades to wage a people's protracted war against the United $$naKKKe$$ of AmeriKKKa
There is an idea of a Joe Biden; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real Joe: only an entity, something illusory. And though he can hide his cold gaze, and you can shake his hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense your lifestyles are probably comparable... He simply is not there, cornpop.
That could be, though- and I don't know what hours the convention holds- I feel like noon or something early afternoon would have been more sensible. Although I guess they're trying to minimize the spotlight now
Think of Joe Biden less as a living human being, and more as a perennial stand-in for the frustrations and corruption of national party-machine politics.
And I learned that, uh, it makes a difference. This was the diving board area, and I was one of the guards. And they weren't allowed to it was a three meter board. If you fell off sideways you landed on the damn the darn cement over there.
And Corn Pop was a bad dude. And he ran a bunch of bad boys. And I did and back in those days and to show you how things have changed, one of the things you had to use, if you used pomade in your hair you had to wear a bathing cap.
And he was up on the board wouldn't listen to me, I said HEY ESTHER! YOU! OFF THE BOARD! OR I'LL COME UP AND DRAG YOU OFF!
Well he came off, and he said, "I'll meet you outside."
My car, this was mostly, these were all public housing behind you. My car, there was a gate out here. I parked my car outside the gate. And I, he said, "I'll be waitin' for you."
He was waitin' for me with three guys with straight razors. NOT A JOKE!
There was a guy named Bill Wrightmouse, the only white guy and he did ALL the pools, he was the mechanic.
And I said what am I gonna do? And he said, "Come down here in the basement. Where mechanics where where all the pool filter is."
You know the chain? There used to be a chain went across the deep end. And he cut off a six foot lump of chain he folded it up he said, "You walk out, with that chain. And you walk to the car and you say, 'you may cut me man, but I'm gonna wrap this chain around your head.'"
I said you're kidding me. He said, "No if you don't, don't come back." AND HE WAS RIGHT!
So I walked out with the chain. And I walked up to my car. And they had in those days used to remember the straight razor you'd bang'em on the curb get'em rusty put'em in a rain barrel get'em rusty. And I looked at'em.
But I was smart, then. I said, first of all I said when I tell you get off the board you get off the board I'll kick you out again but I shouldn't have called you Esther Williams. I apologize for that. I apologized but I didn't know if that apology was going to work. He said, "YOU APOLOGIZING TO ME?"
I said I apologize not for throwing you out, but I apologize for what I said, and he said, "OK" closed the straight razor and my heart began to beat again.