Posted on 05/12/2024 5:07:53 AM PDT by MtnClimber
When brave Sir Biden rode south from Scranton toward the dark, fetid swamp of D.C., he was not afraid to die.
No, based on his many, many tales of personal bravery, Joe was not at all afraid of being killed in nasty ways.
Like being mashed to a pulp while driving a 16-wheeler, or getting knifed in the gut in the Puerto Rican neighborhood where he grew up, or having his brains beat out by racist police while bravely standing with a black family on their porch.
Nor was Biden in the least concerned about being sliced to shreds by Corn Pop’s rusty razor, or being left to rot in a South African jail after being detained while trying to visit Nelson Mandela, or drowning in shark-infested waters during battle after being nominated to the Naval Academy.
Heck, he wasn’t even the least bit worried about having his legs torn off playing Navy football — it was only because Roger Staubach was already at the academy that valiant Sir Biden retreated to Delaware U.
Fearless Joe likewise laughed at the prospect of being eaten by cannibals, as his Uncle Bosie was, or coughing up blood from black lung disease like his coal-mining Kinnock forebears, or completely tearing a pectoral muscle during a push-up contest with one of his constituents.
Sir Joe was so tough that he often fantasized aloud about getting into it with Donald Trump behind the gym, blithely ignoring Trump’s obvious advantage in height, weight, reach, age, accomplishment, intelligence, and real-world experience.
(Excerpt) Read more at americanthinker.com ...
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