My brain has shut off any further acknowledgement of our new Handmaids-Tale-Meets-Idiocracy timeline until I can get at least three stiff drinks in me, but I can’t help but focus on the “Defcon 1 Nuclear” sauce, and how I can practically taste the disappointment.

Misogyny’s a helluva drug.

Honestly, same.

Afraid your safe space is being violated, boy-o?

I feel your pain. I had to cancel my trip this year because of the kid, and now I don’t think I can ever go back knowing there’s a Trump animatronic in the Hall of Presidents.