During the surreal presidential inauguration, it was hard to ignore the deer-in-the-headlights expression on the Third Lady's face as her glance darted back and forth between the throngs of screaming protesters and the repulsively tiny fingers on her husband's shrunken hand as it ceaselessly roamed her stepdaughter's backside, one child-sized finger focused on the very center of its target, attempting over and over again to break through the fabric barrier as if it were a parched desert traveler and its longed-for destination the last drop of water on earth.

Bro since I got dirtpilled on Tuesday I have made sooo many worm friends and made them soo many little houses to get married in. Me? Lonely? No you’re the lonely one u lawn owning freak