Twelve

A Gallery of Regrettable Tees

The Last Four Years As Told By Amy's Laundry Pile*

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Remember when we thought this was enough? 

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Remember when we thought Mueller would save us? 

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Remember when we thought impeachment would stop the madness? 

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Remember when we were all probably more excited about a candidate (or two! or three or four or five!) that we did not get?

Remember what happened the last time that happened?

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Well. At least this one aged well. Like a fine, slightly wrinkled bottle of wine. 

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*It's a tremendous laundry pile. The biggest, most beautiful pile. 68 stories tall, probably, people are saying. Many, many people are saying, and asking me about the pile. How did I get such a tremendous pile, such a vast amount unfolded laundry? And I tell them the truth: Because I am smart, because I can pick out sweatpants and a goddamn t-shirt just as easily off the floor as out of a drawer, and because the only thing that's even more tremendous than my laundry pile is my tremendously unbelievably massively big-league level of crippling election anxiety. Also I've been tremendously and entirely too busy doom-scrolling and screaming at my phone. 

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