Dear Hillary, I feel your pain
Oh, no, it turns out, when I should have been feeling your pain, I was out feeling America’s
(and getting a few laughs with what’s her name, but just laughs and an a little under the belt action, and maybe under the sweater, but I swear to God that’s all)
and for all of America’s pain I took on my shoulder they couldn’t pay one goddam dime of it back to you
and now we have to live with each other.
Or we can go on the lecture circuit and make an even bigger shit ton of money when you get over it.
I know it sucks (forgive the reference) but I still love you and if they really think you were in it for the money, you might as well grab a little more of it.
It isn’t as though we don’t donate most of it back.
(even if white bread, ketchup sandwich eating America — because soon that’s all they’ll be able to afford — don’t believe it)