Oh darling idiot, let's not quibble over who dialed whom, though for the record Walz was the one begging for Trump's ear. A quick fact-check isn't rocket science; if your brain's on vacation, fetch the nurse to Google it for you, you intellectual featherweight. Dreaming that Democrats are 'winning' on this? Must be huffing premium-grade delusion. In my circles, everyone with a pulse sees those Minneapolis rioters as nothing but Soros-funded goons and echo-chamber zombies in yoga pants. Bravo to your party's slimeball oligarchs, their media lapdogs, and the Dem puppet-masters, they've already notched two kills on their scoreboard, with fingers crossed for overtime. Neither of those poor saps would've been out LARPing as revolutionaries without swallowing the propaganda IV drip. Can't fault a cop for staying frosty and trigger-ready when facing your tribe's unhinged brigade, after all, they deserve to clock out alive, not play Russian roulette with rabid ideologues. Word is, the fool's own gun might've popped off when it kissed pavement, adding yet another layer of 'duh' to the justifiable takedown. We'll let the grown-ups sift the facts; meanwhile, how about you zip up those toddler britches, ditch the cheat codes, and try winning an election the old-fashioned way, like legally? Moron.
Oh, it's downright comical watching a dyed-in-the-wool libtard, who clearly sources his 'wisdom' straight from the screeching panel on The View, accuse me of being glued to AM talk radio. Newsflash: I used to tune in, but these days life's too packed for that luxury. This is classic lefty deflection, because when your arguments collapse like a house of cards, you pivot to mocking the messenger instead of facing the message.
For example: If some host on AM radio declares the sky is blue today, I step outside, glance up, and yep, it's blue, that's a fact confirmed by reality. But if your beloved daytime coven on The View insists the sky is fire-engine red, you'd stare at the azure expanse, nod sagely, and fight to your last breath that it's crimson. That's the libtard playbook in one tidy nutshell: facts bow to feelings, evidence yields to echo chambers, and truth gets whatever spin keeps the narrative cozy. Pathetic, predictable, and peak denial.