Brexit, Texit and Sexit



Brexit, Texit, and Sexit. I’ll explain later. Now, to begin with I don’t care how anyone makes their living. Like the good book says, we all have fallen short of the glory, and brothers and sisters, I’m no exception to the rule. From leaving the country, and changing my citizenship in order to marry a seventeen year old girl to beating a guy over the head with a shotgun, when I tell you that I’ve done it all that is not a metaphor. Politicians fall into a special category. They seem to have a “get out of jail free” card, indeed, a “don’t go to jail in the first place” card, or even a “don’t mention that, next question” one! I should be so blessed.

Ted Cruz for example. Came on the national scene like a combination of Thomas Jefferson and Davy Crockett, ending up “allegedly” having more girl friends than Brigham Young, and the only thing that stuck was that booger on his lip. And Hillary. Had sex with Yoko Ono. And that ain’t tabloid stuff folks. Yoko outed her herself! Except for the child there is little proof that John Lennon even did that, but then, he WAS on drugs. Bill Clinton was legendary in that department, but then he WAS married to Hillary. Now the result of that marriage has cloned itself and we’ll have endure another seventy years of the Clinton “die-nasty.”

Then there is Donald Trump. If something appears to be to good to be true, trust me, it usually is. Flag waving, cussing, money slinging “Johnny America” captivated the race for the White House from his own Air Force One. He used an approach right out of Mien Kamph, and like it or leave it, that method works. If you take someone who missed one bean on their plate, and convince them that someone who doesn’t look like them ate that bean, it will convert into a vote. That’s the way it is folks, wish it wasn’t, but there ain’t no Santa Claus.

Trump is a real estate broker. Now, I’m gonna bust your bubble here, but I was in real estate for years, and they are, shall we say, a breed apart. The very charge of the Texas Real Estate Commission is to protect the public from the wiles of real estate “professionals.” There are so many ins and outs that it takes a governor’s commission just to keep up with it all, and Donald Trump is a consummate real estate broker. He’s also a Yankee, and that’s never good.

Let me give you a simple broker bait and switch. A buyer buys a house, but he doesn’t have any credit. So, the seller, wishing to dispose of the house, allows the buyer to assume the note, leaving his name on the line with the promise that after two years said buyer will apply for a new loan, and release the seller. Well, two years pass, seller calls up and asks about the application. Broker tells him that the buyer applied . . .the bank said, “No.” And that’s an easy one, folks. Entry level stuff.

Real Estate brokers have a little thing called, “Float.” Money flows through a brokerage, and don’t fool yourself, it’s soaked in KY Jelly. Oh, sure, there’s all the rules and regulations about escrow, and this crow, and that crow, don’t mean doodlie-squat. If a real estate broker gets his/her hands on your money just hope SOME of it finds its way back to you, and don’t call me a liar because I’VE done it. Hey, never said I was a Jesuit Monk, ok? I took every single penny of the damage deposits from a fairly large property management company, bought stocks with it, returned a profit, stayed solvent, put the profit in my pocket and the commission blessed me like I was Padre Pio. Read the commission the riot act concerning my actions IN THEIR OWN WORDS!

Now, do you really think Donald Trump is going to change his stripes when he takes the oath of office? If you do, have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on sale. Oh, and the City of New York will let you assume the note providing you will apply for a new one after two years. The pitiful thing is this line of reasoning will work better than anything Obama and the democrats have come up with in the last eight years. Heck, the money’s all Monopoly money anyway, what difference does it make, and it’s all them folks on welfare what done it.

What does Brexit, Texit, and Sexit have to do with all this. Brexit: Checking out the ol’ golf course in Scotland. The Donald flew over there. He floated back. Them that have ears, let them hear, Texit: We’re leaving folks. We really are. You’re fixing to swear either Madi Hari or Scrooge into office. You Americans have lost your rabbit-ass minds. Sexit: What your economy will be after we leave. Like they say down on Mulberry Street, “Bada Bing, Bada Boom!”

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The Butcher Shop is an alternative news source based in the Tea Party Tribune with an eye on God, family, and preservation of America. It is a collection of minds started by Bill the Butcher, a conservative op/ed journalist who began publishing forty years ago. We strive to make the articles informative, entertaining, and diverse. All you see will cause you to stop and consider. We try not to drone on with the same old day after day clap trap that may have driven you away from mainstream media. You will read things here that you will see nowhere else. We are from London to Austin to the Escalanté. So, what’s your cut of meat? Shop around. The Butcher Shop is happy to fill your order.