If you listen close enough, you can hear his spirit shatter.


Watch as White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer ruins a fake news journo trying to equate a Trump tweet with a national crisis. Aye, behold the question so dumb it shamed everyone in the room with contact stupid. If you listen close enough, you can actually hear the poor fool’s spirit shatter.

Be forewarned, the fake journo will appeal to an impressive display of polysyllabic mastery; he will employ some very, very big words like “independent judiciary” and use phrases like “the influence, or the appearance of the influence” to challenge the greatest intellects and philosophers of our time.

And, oh, those expressive, wildly gesticulating hands! how they so effectively underscore his trenchant and brilliant insight with mesmerizing neurolinguistic command!

It is a true wonder to behold his cerebral broadside to Trump’s chosen means of communication, the Twitter feed.

But then Sean Spicer bitch slaps him with a reality check, and it is a slap so hard even his grandma got a bloody lip.

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Methinks I am a conspiracy theorist. Art thou? Thou block, thou stone, thou worse than senseless thing, for whilst thou slept didst this become a badge of honor. Informed dissent shall always prevail, wherefore art thou worthy, or art thou this unwholesome fool in the group conformity experiment herein?

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