Look with dawning horror at the presidential line of succession By Pete McArdle
In Major League Baseball, starting pitchers get plenty of press, all the glory, and the really big bucks. But true afficionados of the sport know that a team is only as good as its bullpen, a collection of lesser known pitchers who are called upon when the starting pitcher runs out of gas.
When it comes to the U.S. government, who’s our big stud starting pitcher? Why, that would be “Clueless Joe” Biden, the crusty old conniver who turns eighty in November.
Clueless Joe may have once had a political fastball and the ability to put it where he wanted. But as he turns eighty, Joe Biden’s physically and mentally shot. All he serves up now is slop. Even the lying left-wing media are starting to admit what’s been patently obvious to anyone with a working cerebrum: clueless Joe has run out of gas.
It’s only a matter of time before America has to make that call to the bullpen. And whom do we have warming up in the bullpen, you ask?
Why, that would be the crafty leftie from California, “Heels Up” Harris. Harris earned her moniker by being Willie Brown’s side piece as she, um, climbed the ladder of political success.
As California’s deputy attorney general, Heels Up sent hundreds of blacks to prison for marijuana offenses. But years later, when the political winds had changed, Harris laughed off her prior actions.
Having “evolved” on the issue of pot, Harris smilingly admitted to smoking joints in school while listening to Tupac and Snoop Dogg, neither of whom had recorded anything at that time. Referring to weed, Kammy averred that “it gives a lot of people joy, and we need more joy.”
As our first affirmative action vice president, Harris has been a disaster. As ignorant as the day is long, she answers important questions with hastily thrown together word salads, liberally seasoned with a nerve-shattering cackle reminiscent of the Hildebeest.
Let’s face it: our country’s going to get hammered with President Harris on the mound. But let’s say Heels Up’s time in office is cut short due to illness or impeachment or acute cannabinoid psychosis. Whom would the manager bring in next?
That would be another leftie, the odious Nancy Pelosi, she of the wildly arching eyebrows painted halfway up her forehead. Yet another pitcher way past her prime at 81, Speaker Pelosi would assume the presidency if President Harris were, say, arrested and incarcerated in Guatemala for trying to score a few kilos of prime indica.
A classic limousine liberal, Pelosi believes that the little people should be happy with the crumbs big government gives them while she eats designer ice cream from her twin freezers.
As old, decrepit and heavily-surgerized as Pelosi is, there’s no guarantee she’d be able to finish Biden’s four-year term in office. In the unlikely event that Biden, Harris, and Pelosi all get knocked out of the game, who’s left in the bullpen?
That would be Pat Leahy, the president pro tempore of the Senate. Leahy was originally called “Leaky Leahy” because of his penchant for leaking classified intelligence for political purposes. But at 81, and looking so fossilized that Joe Biden seems vivacious in comparison, Leahy’s sobriquet has undoubtedly taken on a second meaning. Having already announced his intention to retire from the Senate, old, creaky Leaky belongs in the House of Pancakes, enjoying the early-bird special, not the White House.
In summation, with three long years until the next presidential election, America’s starting pitcher is getting lit up, and our bullpen sucks. Don’t think the bad actors in the world haven’t noticed.
Let’s hope that God, in His infinite wisdom, looks out for our country and keeps it safe. Because Biden, Harris, Pelosi, and Leahy certainly won’t.
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