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You know, I make fun of “The View” a lot, but that’s only because they keep talking. Those hands are always clucking.
They get to say stupid stuff for an hour every day, and then I get to say stupid stuff for an hour every day, except on purpose, but every now and then, one of those dingbats inadvertently says something that reveals modern liberal thoughts so perfectly, it deserves further study.
You know, like a weird serpent that washed up on the beach, and you want to poke it with a stick. Take the COVID lockdowns. Remember all the small businesses that went under? All the children scarred psychologically and emotionally because they couldn’t socialize with each other?
It broke up marriages and ruined what I had with Taylor Swift. Well, never mind all that stuff, because COVID also taught Sunny Hostin how to get her groceries delivered. Yeah, I know. Amazing, but that means it’s time for…
SINGERS: Living your life and you’re feeling low, you don’t know what is true. You don’t know what’s true. So you quick-flip through the channels to watch Sunny on “The View.” Oh, my God the stuff she says is dumb. Where the Hell did they get this woman from? She’s a host who’s always crass and lame. With lots of nonsense to proclaim. If you want a show where people know the host is stupider than you. Then set your DVR to watch Sunny Hostin on “The View.”
Nicely done, Jean. You are hired for one more day. So, Sunny, I bet you haven’t been in a supermarket since COVID for about three years.
SUNNY HOSTIN: I haven’t been in a supermarket for about three years. That’s when I discovered Instacart, and I give them a big tip because they don’t always pay their people well. And that’s been an issue, I think, for the company. But man, you can get toiletries, you can get fire logs. You know, those big Bounty towels, you don’t want to carry them? Somebody else goes.
Fire logs? She had to tell the audience that she tips big because even she knows she sounds insufferable. Hey, I’m an ——-, but at least I tip. This dame probably virtue-signals on the toilet, but that’s not the point here. While everybody else was trying to figure out how to survive as the government told us, that breathing in public could kill us, Sunny was lolling around in her big house, clicking on pictures of arugula while mixing Cocoa Puffs into her Haagen-Dazs.
Oh, the oppression. I wonder if she wiped down the groceries herself or had her maid do it. She tips her too.
Sure, lots of people started getting their groceries delivered during COVID because we were told it would help save the world from the deadly virus that suddenly appeared for no apparent reason, leaked by no particular world government. We’re all in this together. We’re all in this together, remember? Just like Jonestown.
But unlike this chick, we didn’t think it was the best thing that could have happened to us, although it did get Joy Behar to wear a mask. Oh, you make me sick. It’s funny, her being named Joy is like me being named Ugly. But we didn’t breathe a sigh of relief that we’d never have to set foot in a grocery store again.
I love grocery stores. I treat them like strip clubs. I’ll spend hours in the cookie aisle staring at the Keebler elves until I’m aroused. Then I’ll stick a fiver in the bra of the old lady handing out free samples.
I’m only kicked out when security thinks my jean shorts are too small. They can never be too small, but most people went back to the grocery stores when the emergency was over. We went back to normal.
True, I went back to not washing my hands and instead happily sneezing on the elderly. But if you work on “The View” or anywhere else in liberal media, you’re insulated from the world, just like blubber insulates them from the cold.
Oh, I give those poor people a big tip for scurrying around, gathering food for me and hauling it to my mansion. Yeah, thanks for the 20 bucks, lady. That’s good for two to three gallons of gas so I can get back home to my kids who are having baloney sandwiches for the ninth night in a row for dinner and urinal cakes for dessert.
You know, when the rest of us criticize the lockdowns, the lingering effects, people like Sunny just wave it away because it hasn’t affected them at all. For her, it was one giant excuse to sit at home and dip Eskimo Pies into alfredo sauce.
She doesn’t care because she doesn’t have to. It’s a class thing, and it’s why she plays the race card so often, so you don’t notice it’s a class thing. Her life stinks of classism.
Crime is on the rise? Just hire private security. Illegals are flooding into the country? Don’t live near the border. COVID? Just stay home forever. Let the peons take the risk for me. Schools suck? Hey, more idiots to watch “The View.”
This lady is more out-of-touch than Janet Yellen’s barber, and it is a barber. It’s the old Howard Stern rant: You idiots who need freedom are killing people. Why don’t you just sit at home like me in my Hamptons compound and work from home? Again, let the peons take all the risks.
My God, how the mighty fart man has fallen. These elites are so isolated, they’ve forgotten that most Americans don’t get paid to sit in a comfy chair pontificating about everything all day.
Nope. Some of us are cameramen whose names I don’t know. But maybe one day when we finally strip away this phony race war, it will finally expose this elite mentality and we’ll find out Sunny is just like Marie Antoinette, except she says, “Let me eat cake.”
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