I saw Thomas Massie a month after Rhonda died. He was a ghost- alarmingly thin, eyes sunken, moving like someone who hadn’t slept since his world ended. Devastation hung on him like a second skin. When I offered condolences, he could barely respond. He was just numb. Hollowed out. A husband who’d lost the love of his life and the mother of his children.
And yet here we are: the same political sewer parading out SSR-eyed women with wild, ever-changing sex allegations against opponents they can’t beat.
But the timing of this one! Weeks after I saw him and he was reminding himself to breathe.
This is desperate and vile, but not surprising. After all, disgusting, predatory, woke shit is the loser’s signature tactic when they can’t beat a man at the ballot box.