Y2K, Anybody? Letter to Ciscomani

This will prove shorter than most articles since the House.gov site restricts the message to 2000 words. I’m just particularly enraged today. He’s just so damned effective at making us hate him.

Oh, wait… He protects pedophiles?! Thank goodness they’re boys–Trump can let that one go.

For a little comic relief, here’s Bessent after he crammed his clown face into a makeup tin just before sporting his proud suckuppery to the fat orange turd.

Oh, don’t forget desecration of a national monument. I guess racist general statues can stay, but the rose garden, checkers, and the first lady’s only refuge from his smelly, rotting flesh just burns away.

Okay, back to my letter…

Ciscomani inspires special hatred in me–he’s my representative, though you’d never know it. He does love money, though–he’s a crook, a liar, and a thief. The district attorney here will have a field day with his deep corruption. Maybe he can wipe with Trump dollars once he’s in prison.

I don’t know whether it matters one way or the other, but I want you to account for Trump slobbering his image on currency and passports. Or the cage fighting. Or the ballroom. Or the war.

You said you voted for the BBB because you wanted able-bodied medicaid recipients to go back to work. I submit that you’re far more of a welfare queen than they are. You do nothing. You don’t offer any meaningful representation, and you pick up your fat paycheck every pay period at our expense. Do your goddamned job.

It’s impossible to overstate the disappointment in you–Trump is a deranged infant, but at least he might not know any better. You are a petty enabler, useless, and soon to be ousted from office.

But it won’t end there. I will coordinate civil suits against you for incompetence and dereliction of duty. Most seriously, you have reneged on your solemn oath to defend the US Constitution against the very real domestic threat. You make up a special class of particularly despicable bottom-feeders–you genuflect not to the Lord Savior you claim to cherish, but a monster you’ve helped deliver to our doorstep.

Shame. We’ll prosecute you for this.