Works like this: I feed you Moon Nukers a straight line, and you hit me with a punch line in the comments.
Berkeley students plan to celebrate the arrival of Ann Coulter on campus by…
Works like this: I feed you Moon Nukers a straight line, and you hit me with a punch line in the comments.
Berkeley students plan to celebrate the arrival of Ann Coulter on campus by…
…having a gathering complete with fireworks! And to add to the HotTime in the old town they’ll have pepper spray.
…knitting new hats.
… skipping classes, faking fainting spells, soiling their birkenstocks, quietly asking one another “who is ann coulter?”
. . . recreating Krystallnacht, with the deliciously ironic twist that the victims will be denounced as the fascists.
Forty years of darkness! Earthquakes, volcanoes… The dead rising from the grave! Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together… mass hysteria!
…So be good for goodness sake…Whoa-oooo…
…by placing her on double secret probation.
…retreating to their safe spaces.
…trying to burn her in effigy, but they’ll fail because she’ll be in Berkeley…
Berkeley students plan to celebrate the arrival of Ann Coulter on campus by…
sacrificing a live rooster.
Jagermeister shots.
celebrating like Detroit after they won a basketball championship.
…burning her in effigy, attempting to shut down her event, smashing windows, starting dumpster fires, then going home and pleasuring themselves by imaging that Ann Coulter is their girlfriend.
Only the female protestors do that. Cis-males (or whatever they called themselves) will use their old standby, Michael Moore.
Berkeley students plan to celebrate the arrival of Ann Coulter on campus by…
waxing nostalgic about Berlin…1938.
donning black shirts and then claiming they weren’t…err blackshirts.
finally settling on the correct number of pronouns.
channeling their inner inquisitor.
…convincing themselves they’re really going to save the planet this time.
Pretending that they actually make a difference in the greater scheme of things.
…masking their identities but not their rage.
…letting it all hang out at a Soros-funded pot and booze party and telling stories about how great things were in the ’60’s. Peace, love, dope. Groovy, man.
…eating marijuana-laced cookies and brownies and then later claiming they’ve ‘got the munchies’ in the middle of a riot.
Berkeley students plan to celebrate the arrival of Ann Coulter on campus by…
…engaging in ritual chanting to repel the evil spirit, followed by ceremonial combat with the invading heretics. Students are encouraged to watch the Berkelian tribal activities and submit reports on their observations of this violent but fascinating religious culture.
…by comparing her to everyone they mimic, you know, kinda like democrats…oh wait.
They’ll help her sell more books by proving her point, once again:
The demon is a mob, and the mob is demonic. The Democratic Party activates mobs, depends on mobs, coddles mobs, publicizes and celebrates mobs—it is the mob. Sweeping in its scope and relentless in its argument, Demonic explains the peculiarities of liberals as standard groupthink behavior. To understand mobs is to understand liberals.
… airing of grievances; feets of unusual strength: Collectivists for the arrest of us!
… banning the use of the word “man” at the next Burning Man festival, which they invented.
…. changing the name to Banning Man festival.
… skipping class. [That can be read three ways. All are correct.]
…. putting their fingers in their ears while singing “Antifa-la-la, La-la-la-la.”
… using some focus-group-created rehashtag.
… Larping their way through the rest of their lives.
… posting selfies of themselves at another Failapalooza.
… using some focus-group-created [reichashtag]. 🙂
toking up.
going to the Oakland Coliseum tonight to see the Athletics’ game, even though this is an off day for the Athletics.
pretending that they weren’t turned down by Stanford.
They will be in mourning, probably wearing black armbands (which they will add to the litter when it clashes with their outfits or when Coulter leaves, whichever comes first), and drown their tremendous sorrows in booze, pot and any other drugs of choice.
I suspect that if they do celebrate, it will be by blinking a quick hello to their appendices and I am not talking about the ones found at the end of books.
…throwing a party…You know, there’s going to be sex, drugs, rock-n-roll… chips, dips, chains, whips… You know, your basic high school orgy type of thing. I mean, uh, I’m not talking candlewax on the nipples, or witchcraft or anything like that, no, no, no. Just a couple of hundred kids running around in their underwear, acting like complete animals.