You seem full of hope, but somehow I am beginning to feel like Charlie Brown with Lucy holding the football.
However, hope springs eternal, and I’m praying for Trump and Pence every day.
The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
I don’t have hope as I know certain things. You watch too much MSM and pay too much heed to the IQ of 60 crowd on here.