Tag Archive: Andrew Yang

Divine Advice For Tulsi Gabbard

Today is International Women’s Day (in the middle of Women’s History month), and I’m wondering why the hell the whole country keeps saying that there are no women left in the 2020 presidential race. Sure, I’m hanging on by a thread, but I’m still here, dammit. At least for now. I made a lot of enemies when I kicked Kamala Harris’s ass on the debate stage over her social justice failures, and then I further enraged the party when I dared to fight Hillary Clinton after she called me a Russian asset. The Democratic establishment doesn’t like it when people call them out on their bullshit, and the lamestream media is more than willing to go along with whatever narrative the elites put forward. Maybe I should have played nice in the beginning. Maybe I should have waited until I had more support before taking the gloves off, but that’s…
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Divine Advice For Nicolas Cage

Dear DA, I know I seem like a buffoon for spending all of my money on alpacas and Hyundai Elantras so the alpacas can have demolition derbys in the Elantras to entertain the many fine and strange prostitutes that inhabit each of my many mansions, but it’s like you said, it’s harder for a rich man to get into heaven than to dry hump a camel through the eye of the needle, dude. So I blow all my money and think of it as an investment in my angel’s wings. After all, you can’t take it with you (can you?) and I have my earthly needs. Ghost Rider should have been in that movie with Thanos. I was actually banking on it, as that would have been truer to the comics, but those Disney people screwed me. That mouse has got teeth. Everyone warned me, but I didn’t listen. So…
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Divine Advice For Andrew Yang

Dear DA, I’m one of the 47 Democrats running for president, the Asian one named Yang. Not that one, the other Asian. The one who’s trying to bribe everyone into voting for me. One grand a month free and easy, yo, from the Yang Dog. That’s what they used to call me in my hood in Schenectady. It’s a little town in Upstate NY. There’s a rose garden and an old-timey movie theater and absolutely nothing else. That’s why I had to choose the thug life. To get some respect, yo. First, I have a confession to make. No one really used to call me the Yang Dog. I just made that up. I’m not even sure why. I thought it would make me sound cool. If you just add “Dog” to the end of your name, you’re cool. At least most of the time. I thought it would work…
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