Hey, I’ve got a most important color correction to make. Last week, I claimed what happened on Election Night wasn’t a Blue Wave so much as a Pink Wave, which was a bit hasty on my part. I wanna tighten that up a bit, since we now see that a true Blue Wave did indeed happen, with us Cerulean Folk picking up 35-40 seats in Da House and winning a couple nice tasty races for Senate (Rosen and Sinema).

But as for the precise color of this nation-saving event, well, if the Blue Wave was fueled by the Pink Wave of dynamic and righteous women candidates, that leaves us with—what? What do you get when you combine blue with pink? I’m rolling with lavender, baby. We just had us a very fragrant Lavender Wave, and it smells so nice. Even with Dum Dum trying to poop on our post-election party on the morning after with his bitchy little move involving Sessions and “Mr. Clean” Whitaker, he still couldn’t mess with my rastaman vibration of beaming happiness. Every day since Election Night, it’s been so very pleasant to wake up and remember, “Oh, yeah, man, we got Da House.” The Lavender Wave—a most effective and organic anti-depressant!

Florida. Again. Jesus. Fuck Florida. Again. The upside of climate change will be on that day when effing Florida is finally inundated by the rising sea. Give it back to the storks, gators and turtles. Apparently, people can’t live down there without turning into incurable kooks.

One of the great wins of this election was Harley Rouda edging out that evil wanker from Orange County, Dana Rohrabacher. Remember in ’16, when Trump ballwasher Kevin McCarthy said, “There’s two people I think Putin pays—Rohrabacher and Trump.” So, yeah, it’s that Rohrabacher who just got told to hit the sidewalk. He was an out-and-out embarrassing comrade of the Kremlin, an open wound oozing all over Congress on behalf of Big Daddy Vlad, and it was astounding he had racked up a streak of 15 straight terms in Da House.

Thank the Lavender Wave that this treasonous sack of traitor tripe just got rocked with a point-blank kick to the rubles.

Mr. Mueller? We’re ready for you on the set! I’m thinking now that the diligent Mueller and his team of pitbulls is ready to rock with some tasty perp walks, having laid properly low throughout the election season. Do I get to see Roger Stone, a.k.a. Zippy the Pinhead, in cuffs for Thanksgiving?

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