Everyday I fantasizes about feeding the bourgeoisie to komodo dragons after the revolution. As the news about his ailing health trickles in, I’m slowly realizing that I will never see Mitch McConnell being eaten alive by komodo dragons

Everyday I fantasizes about feeding the bourgeoisie to komodo dragons after the revolution. As the news about his ailing health trickles in, I’m slowly realizing that I will never see Mitch McConnell being eaten alive by komodo dragons

Sounds like the concept of a great jazzpunk level