I had heard @berniesanders was twenty feet tall, with a full chest of hair that refused to stay enclosed, his flannel shirt always popping open at the collar.

I caught a glimpse of him once through the trees of a forest full of the sound of bitching and complaining. It was from this vantage point, some 40 yards behind him, that I noticed the two button, old-timey pajama bottoms of a child. At first I was confused, but then he casually reached behind him, dropped the flap, and took a dump all over a small ranch style house in the Whalepool county of Wisconsteem. Then I understood. The glare off his asshole was blinding. And when the smell finally reached me, it had a righteous pugnacity that filled me with hope.

Thank you, you asshole.

photo-credit