Bitch Slapped
Text below the X link.
Mr. Star Spangled MAGA on X (formerly Twitter): “Dear @CAgovernorListen up you wanna-be president…You’re about to get Chernobyl’d. Half of this is about you chasing Trump’s shadow like a desperate groupie.The other half is your 2028 campaign getting skull-fcked by reality.You’re out here in 2025 acting like you can… / X”
Dear @CAgovernorListen up you wanna-be president…You’re about to get Chernobyl’d. Half of this is about you chasing Trump’s shadow like a desperate groupie.The other half is your 2028 campaign getting skull-fcked by reality.You’re out here in 2025 acting like you can…
Dear
Listen up you wanna-be president… You’re about to get Chernobyl’d. Half of this is about you chasing Trump’s shadow like a desperate groupie. The other half is your 2028 campaign getting skull-fcked by reality. You’re out here in 2025 acting like you can steal the spotlight from Donald J. Trump, the man whose every tweet hits like a fckihg meteor. You’re not a rival bro. You’re fanboy with a restraining order just waiting to happen.
Your obsession with Trump is so creepy it makes stalkers look like they’re just dropping by for coffee. Every time you speak his name you do so to bring attention to yours. It’s so cringey and pathetic that it literally makes me say the word “ew” out loud. Every time you open that Botox-stiffened mouth, it’s “Trump’s bad, Trump’s evil”. He’s out there commanding arenas while you’re posing for selfies in a state that smells like a landfill’s asshole.
And California? Holy shit Gav. San Francisco’s streets are so caked in crap and needles you’d think it’s hosting the Shit Olympics. Homeless camps are bigger than most suburbs, and the only thing growing faster than the drug trade is your ego. Your whole vibe is a pathetic attempt to out-Trump Trump, and it’s like watching a chihuahua try to out-bark a fcking lion. President Trump could sell ice to penguins, while your speeches sound like a yoga instructor reading from a self-help book.
Does the name “bitch ass” ring a bell? That’s you. You’re so desperate to be the anti-Trump you’ve forgotten how to do the job you were elected to do. Every X post, every press conference, every fcking breath you take is about him. Trump is living in your head like it’s a penthouse suite, and it’s fcking glorious to watch you unravel. And that brings me to your doomed 2028 Presidential run against J-Dizzle.
Fast forward to 2028, Gavin, and you’re still chasing that White House pipe dream like a dog humping a lamppost. You’re gearing up to face JD Vance, Trump’s heir apparent, and let me tell you, you’re gonna get your ass obliterated so hard they’ll name a crater after you. Vance is a gladiator bro. He is as sharp as a switchblade, real as a Rust Belt bar fight, and carrying Trump’s MAGA torch like it’s the Olympic flame. You? You probably have meetings in saunas and wear socks up to your knee. Do you wear garters too?
You’re just a prissy little bitch boy with a state that looks like a zombie apocalypse fcked a landfill. I’m sorry, I meant JoJoFromJerz. Vance will shred you like a pitbull with a chew toy, because he’s got the heart of America and you’ve got the soul of a corporate retreat. Voters will see right through your bullshit, because you’re not fooling anyone with that plastic smile. He will point right at your state and say, “That’s what this fcker does,” and the crowd will lose their minds.
You’re not just gonna lose, Gavin. You’re gonna get humiliated. Stop dreaming of the White House. You’re not Trump. You’ll never be Vance. You’re just Gavin Newsom, the dipshit who fcked California and thought he could bullshit America. Eat shit. San Francisco has plenty.
In freedom, Mr. Star-Spangled MAGA
