Well, the clevenless weekend is almost upon us, and before the planet swirls down into

a fathomless and unnatural 72-hour darkness that will make the dam denizens of hell wipe

their flaming brows with gratitude that they haven't been condemned to remain on Earth.

Let's take a jolly look back at the days just past, and review the events that make us

all feel we're living in what used to be the greatest country ever to turn to ashes

wreaking with the feta de Roma of insanity and corruption.

For the last several days, the choice that has been set before us in the upcoming presidential

election at last became clear, and the differences between the candidates were made manifest

through their actions.

Hillary, you'll remember, tripped, climbing up a flight of stairs, causing some reporters

to speculate that her pure hunger for power had turned her mind into a percolating, warm,

ridden soup no longer capable of controlling the actions of a body in which the soul had

been eaten to nothing by greed and evil, leaving the flesh to begin the process of decay

even before the onset of death.

Donald Trump, meanwhile, tried to declare his economic policy for America's cities, but

instead of saying cities he accidentally uttered a rude expression for a woman's breasts, revealing

that even in the midst of his speech, he was thinking back to those great days with Bill

Clinton, unconvicted pedophile Jeffrey Epstein's jet nickname, The Lolita Express, when Trump

and Bill could share a nice cold cocktail and a nice warm 15-year-old, and joke about how

funny it would be if Trump decided to run for president and destroy the Republican party,

leaving Hillary Clinton a clear path to the White House and then prison.

Meanwhile, during a conversation with reporters, Hillary accidentally referred to Trump as

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