An Open Letter to Every Stupid Moron Who Voted for Trump

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When you dragged your sorry little no-note prick into the voting booth and then decided to jizz all over democracy, you liked it. It made you feel like a man, didn’t it? Made you feel all powerful and shit, huh?

Did it feel as good as the time you beat your wife? Was it better than your fantasies of sodomizing your daughter, your son? I know you deny having those thoughts.

Let’s face it, I know — we all know — you have these obscene, ungodly thoughts, even if you deny them. You carry them inside of you even when you shout glory hallelujah Jesus on Sundays to try to make them go away — but they don’t go away. You just have to shout louder and louder and into megaphones — and still, they don’t go away.

You voted for Trump for the same reason a person would own an AR-15 — because you’re terrified of what you are, way down deep inside yourself. And honey, I can’t help you with that. No one can. Not even Jesus.

You voted for Trump because you really, really, really hate your mother. You hate women. You certainly don’t want to hear from them. You certainly don’t want them running things.

(Any women out there who voted for Trump, well, you should have known better. Done better. Even if you didn’t care about yourself and your well-being, you should have…