A convention of wormy communist parasites would not be complete without femboy David Hogg yammering about gun control.
I bet he and Comrade Clayton talked looong into the night, if you know what I mean. They have so much in common: both grifter parasite commies who have never worked a real job in the private sector. Both have never employed anyone. Both are non-profit grifters promoting commie shit like gun bans and tranny crap.
My friends Amy and George at Winter’s Beef were working hard the last few days and weeks. They load up the coolers and trucks early and head to farmer’s markets which are hours away.
They have their website available for buying steaks and burgers. They remind you a week or two before any holiday weekend to stock up for your holiday parties and even give you great recipes for their steaks and burgers.
FAKE ranchers also talk a lot about a website, but then six months later…no website. Totally forgotten like the failed Substack project. Because it is MUCH easier to sit in mom’s upstairs bedroom in the air conditioning and cry about how unfair life is.
You see, the website project will NEVER get done. That’s because fake ranchers have no actual products to sell. How do you sell non-existent products on a website? You can’t.
I think I DID see Comrade Clayton at the park the other day though…..
I always wondered why Robert Francis put his hands protectively around Comrade Clayton Tucker….
Comrade Clayton went from short hair and clothes you might find in the men’s department to looking like a lesbian at a hemp rally….
The purse…the fupa…the longer hair…
It all makes sense now….
As the kids say: “OK groomer!”
Weird. Now that Robert Francis is officially running for governor, you’d think Comrade Clayton would be pumping him (pardon the pun) on his Twitter and FB pages non-stop. But Clayton Tucker has been strangely silent about Robert’s entire campaign.
Maybe it’s because even Comrade Clayton knows O’Rourke is going to get destroyed in November and can’t be bothered to waste any typing on him.
OR, maybe we need to ask Clayton to show us on a doll where Robert Francis touched her/she/him/his.
Yes, yes we know about your “big news”: you’re transitioning to female. I guess we can add “Freedom from a ball sack” to the list above.
You just know that Comrade Clayton Tucker has been poised over his laptop in his parents’ upstairs bedroom for the last 48 hours masturbating to ERCOT dashboards and waiting for the power to go out so he can blame the GOP for not “fixing the damn grid”.
He doesn’t actually suffer if the power goes out, mind you, because his house his parents’ house (208 S Western) is less than two blocks from the police station – and is likely protected from any rolling blackouts as critical infrastructure.
It wouldn’t affect him one bit – he just needs something to cry about. In fact, he’s probably under the covers watching Bernie Sanders Netflix documentaries while mom brings him hot cocoa and milk.
Out here in the boondocks, we have had uninterrupted power all week. That’s even WITH ice and wind storms, which nobody has any control over. We enjoy this level of service because bad-ass guys called “linemen” go out into the shit storm and keep the lights on. THAT is a real job. Comrade Clayton has never had a real job in his life, so he doesn’t appreciate that either. He thinks electricity comes from a hole in his parents’ wall.
Funny how the global warming that Comrade Clayton is so frightened of has actually resulted in two extremely cold winters in a row.
I’m sure his hero Beta Male O’Rourke will “fix” the grid by adding more shitty windmills and solar panels in the unlikely event he becomes governor. Luckily, we haven’t imported quite enough foreign invaders to make that happen yet. Also, Texas is now a lot stricter on proving your ability to vote – much to the chagrin of Comrade Clayton Tucker. He absolutely HATES voter ID laws.
“We’re like two balls in a nutsack, yo!“
Just a reminder: there is not a single windmill or solar panel installed at Clayton Tucker’s parent’s house OR his grandpa’s ranch where he runs around pretending to be a “rancher”. Not one. I wonder why that is? What’s stopping you from installing all that stuff yourself, Comrade Clayton? I mean, besides not having any net worth. You could always beg Dad for the money.
