Between the Rock and a Hard Place

This is an outrage. It defies common and uncommon sense alike and I demand a recount. More than that, I demand an answer. For this is the greatest affront to democracy since John Gorton voted against himself and lost the job as Prime Minister. I don’t know where to start. Tell the media. Alert the Supreme Court. Demonstrate in the streets because this travesty must not be allowed to stand. Because, when all is said and done, I simply refuse to accept the result. I cannot concede that Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson is now the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’.
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Commander Cohen, President Trump and General Pessimism

I did not see it coming. Looking back, there’s every chance that history will record this as the week that previously earth-bound pigs sprouted wings and started their own commercial airline. Doubtless, those who dislike science will refer to the events of the past few days in support of their position, citing the fact that hell has just frozen over and turned itself into a twenty four hour ice-skating rink as evidence that climate change is bunkum. Quite honestly, I thought the chances of Donald Trump being elected President were much the same as me being crowned Miss America. But in dismissing the Donald I overlooked the one ingredient essential to every reality television show – a surprise ending.
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Middle Aged Rage Against the Machine

There’s a tipping point, I think. A moment beyond which there’s no going back. For me, it arrived just last week. Each year, my brother Cameron and I are the same age for exactly four days. Tradition dictates that for those ninety-six hours we must squabble like seagulls over the world’s last remaining chip. Such infantile behaviour is probably forgivable, even mildly endearing, during childhood. That this kind of malarkey should have survived into adulthood is something about which I am slightly ashamed. In my defence, I can only say this: he started it.
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