I don’t know why I hate him so much, just the sight of him boils my blood. He’s a sniveling little weasel doing what he’s ordered to do by the Trumpets … apparently because he, too, has received Russian money for one of his paltry investments … but he’s so BAD at it. All of it. The lying. The jack stories he concocts to cover his tracks, which are always uncovered. His inability to stand still without cringing or flinching.
Devin Nunes … I keep wanting to call him Nevin Dunes and give him a pencil mustache … looks guilty when he first wakes up in the morning. He’s done something bad in the night. Peeked through a hole into the adjoining bathroom. Thought wrong thoughts. Wrong! And then it escalates from there …. Devin walking, Devin avoiding, Devin fleeing, Devin trapped and forced to approach a microphone.
And then Nevin Dunes opens his mouth to speak!!! His vocal quality is somewhere between a robocaller and cats fucking. I can’t listen for more than a minute or two.
Nevin … sorry, Devin … won’t be able to keep this up for much longer. He’s bound to crack. Prediction: on the witness stand when it comes to that, he’ll cry and cry and cry. Blame everyone from Trump to his mother. Wipe his eyes with his dunce cap.