Here at the Compound we’re drinking strong coffee, dusting off the Steuben and cleaning guns while, ahem, loyal staff polish the Mess silver.
A lot of this fast-paced, hi-stress action takes place on the porch, where Blue Eschaton has set up in vigilant defense.
In related news, it seems that Hillary wasn’t able to address her party faithful on election night because she’d fallen into a psychotic, drunken rage, clawing at long-suffering staffers while hurling inanimate objects at Mook and the well known Satanist, John Podesta.
|A Typical Texan Tailgate|
Hell hath no fury, eh? America, looks like you dodged a bullet.
God bless Texas,