In case you’re wondering what on earth to tell your children after the massive, landslide defeat Hillary Clinton faced at the smallish hands of Donald Trump, here’s a helpful guide:
“My dear, sweetie pie, Che-Barack,
We lost. We lost badly. It was a horrible thing to witness, but it happened. And it happened in a yuge, YUGE way. Total bloodbath. Wasn’t even close. We got our collective butts kicked, whupped, and spanked. It was a worldwide embarrassment. I can’t emphasize enough what an enormous defeat this was.
And though our bleeding hearts were so desperately set on electing the first president with different genitals than all the others, a truly noble pursuit I think we can both agree, we failed. Did I mention we failed, badly? Yeah, anyway. We failed because we set ourselves up for failure.
Do you realize, my little vegan sunshine, that we chose a con artist as our candidate? It’s true. We didn’t want to believe it, because she pees in the ladies’ room, but she was a total fraud. Sure, she said all the right things, things we all wanted to hear, even though just a few years or months ago she was saying the exact opposite things, we just slurped them up like soy lattes with extra extra whipped cream (free roam and antibiotic free, of course!) We just lapped them up. You might say we took the bait, hook, line and sinker.
Sure, she wanted us to believe that all those insanely disgusting and shocking WikiLeaks revelations were just an act of foul play by the Russians, who yes, ironically we all believed had been permanently “Reset” after her first gallant and historic act as Secretary of State of giving the Russians a repainted plastic spring-loaded “That was easy” button you can pick up at the counter of any local Staples store. (I guess that’s to be expected from the top diplomatic official in an administration that gives the queen of England an iTunes playlist for a gift.) But yeah, she told us all it was just Russian shenanigans, but the reality is, she’s one messed up chica. Pure evil. Heck, as it turns out her campaign manager and longtime advisor, Jon Podesta, even practices some really whack, satanic blood rituals in his free time, not that any of that matters, because whatever you want to be or do or feel or identify as is perfectly fine with me, my precious poopsie whoopsie…as long as it doesn’t include being white, male, conservative or (gulp) Christian — goodness, I shudder at the thought!
We also discovered through the tsunami of revelations about her and her close network, that she’s actually in bed with the worst of the banking and finance giants. You know the ones we like to hate so much? You know, the ones we protested last summer in the park, tweeting anti-capitalist messages from our iPhones (yeah, the ones we waited in line in a tent on a sidewalk overnight to buy so we could show all our friends we got them hours before they got theirs just so they could see that we are more die hard fans of Apple than they are?) Capitalism is the worst, isn’t it? How awful. That 1% is so not cool. So mean. They really need to die…all of them…painfully…because that would be social justice, dearie. Anyhoo, as it turned out, Hillary was every bit as much in the pocket of Wall Street as the rest of those meanie-pants republican war monger greed devils are. She’s not only part of the 1%, she’s their henchman who promised in secret emails to do their dirty work behind closed doors and away from the public eye, not to mention against our wishes! Can you believe that?
And then there’s the fact that she’s also taking bribes, ok, “charitable contributions”, from all the worst women-oppressors in the world. Saudi Arabia is the least of the offenders, but she got millions and millions from just them. She even tried to conceal her shady deals from auditors, probably because she knew it would force our friends in the media to actually report something negative about a democrat, if you can imagine! Yeah, she’s pretty much more the 1% than Trump, Romney and the Koch brothers combined. Makes sense she would want to hide that from us, doesn’t it? And that’s ok, as long as she’s hiding it from the GOP too.
Yeah, we liberals like to talk about fighting corruption, but we decided to make the queen of corruption our poster girl. In hindsight, that was kind of Common Core of us, wasn’t it?
We pretty much picked the most awful candidate we could find. Sure, Charles Manson or Ted Cruz (oh good heavens, did I say his name? I’m sorry, sweetie – we agreed not to ever use hate speech like that, didn’t we?) might have been worse, but other than that, she was pretty much a scrape from the bottom of the barrel. I mean, that shrill voice of hers nearly cracked our windows more than once. And that laugh was straight from a b-movie villain. And, my word, what was with those fruity pantsuits? Who could really want someone like that?
She wasn’t exactly polished either. There was that whole Basket of Deplorables thing (which talk about the pot and kettle!), there was the “What difference does it make now?” talking about heroes who died under her watch thing (wow, can you be more heartless?), not to mention all those times she attacked women who her husband sexually assaulted, laughing about getting off a child rapist, and she even got kicked off the Watergate investigation team because she was so unethical. Yeah, she was about as polished as a gravel road. Not our finest hour.
And, in contrast to Obama’s charismatic shuck and jive that we are all so happily and helplessly hypnotized by, we chose board-stiff, angry old lady who yells at kids for walking on her lawn. How did we expect to win with that? Ok, yeah, we liberals control the media, Hollywood, universities and now the school system at large, not to mention we can rig voting machines to change votes from republican to democrat at will, we stuff ballot boxes with false ballots, and have hundreds of thousands of undocumented immigrants and dead people voting democrat every election, so we should’ve had it in the bag regardless, but still. We hired the female version of Archie Bunker, for Climate’s sake. What were we thinking would happen?
Plus, there was that whole “under investigation by the FBI” thing. True, that doesn’t really happen unless you’re either a political enemy of Our Holy Barack or you’re in the middle of some heavy criminal stuff. We kinda knew it could blow up on us, but we didn’t want to admit it to ourselves. We were about to elect a human with XX chromosomes, for goodness sakes! Besides, we all have a weird Stockholm Syndrome thing going with her husband, the womanizer who we should despise and yet instead elevate to the status of deity, which makes us want her for her last name — I know, weird — Freud would have a hay day with us, I’m sure. And we had the Attorney General in our pocket too — we knew they would scare that wet noodle Comey into cowering into the fetal position (a very perilous position around liberals, as we all know), so it’s not like we thought she’d be convicted like anyone else who had done what she had done, but it’s hard to sell a serial criminal to the American electorate. We shouldn’t have tried. That looney bird socialist or the pretty boy from Baltimore would have been better choices for us, for sure. Shame they didn’t have the same gender identification as she did, after all, we were with HER, not HIM.
Bottom line, Honey Bunches, we messed up. We were running against a reality TV star who was more a cartoon than a man. SNL actually stopped phoning in their political comedy for this guy and still we lost to him because we chose the old grey mare…er, philly…or whatever those people in red-state, flyover, dumb****kistan call those animal horse things that are girls.
We lost horribly, monumentally badly and now we get to spend the next four years whining about it as liberals like to do when we don’t get our way. So instead of thinking, “Hmm, maybe I get what it was like when Obama won and then commenced mocking, belittling, taunting, ridiculing, oppressing, and harassing republicans” and then trying to find a way to work with our neighbors to make America a better place, let’s start working on your protest sign. Maybe we can complain about the electoral college not being a safe place. Either way, I think moping, complaining and continued mocking is the way for us to go, little one.
I’m glad we had this talk, now let’s be responsible citizens and go throw eggs at a Chick-Fil-A.”
There you go, that’s what you tell your kids.
This is assuming you didn’t first rip them from your womb and sell them for parts in a noble act of feminist convenience, of course.