Kamala Harris hasn't been looking well lately.  She gave a maskless interview to CNN's Dana Bash a week ago, and she looked much more jowly and wrinkly than she did just three months ago, when she took the oath of office.  She has a bit more junk in the trunk now, and gone are the purple, maroon, and ivory suits; it's black or navy all the time now, the better to hide the extra jiggly bits.  A lot of her sentences now begin with "Well, I mean," signaling the intellectual vacuity she's settled for, as though she's completely given up on trying to sound smart.

Is the stress of not being able to do her job getting to her?  Does she have Imposter Syndrome on steroids and the medication has stopped working?  Or does she have some awful knowledge of a certain future event the rest of us don't know about and is coping with it the best way she can?  On April 23, she gave a speech to the IBEW Local 490 in Concord, N.H., and she slurred and giggled her way through "I think it is important to look at folks like Haley and Kelly and also say we're gonna take note of the fact that during the pandemic 2 million people, 2 million women people (pause, nod, nod, giggle, giggle) became unemployed."  (Is that funny?  I don't get it.)  Is she spending her days with Jose Cuervo now?  Sipping Vodkawaiian Punch from the juice bottle?  When her secretary accepts an engagement for her, does she whisper into the receiver, "Mrs. Harris would appreciate the offer of a teeny martooni upon arriving at the venue"?

Remember those early days, when she was maquillaged to perfection and could toss her deliberately casual hairdo back and forth without it losing its place, wearing bossy power suits with the shoulder pads out to here, patinaed with the insecurity of a Chihuahua always ready to fight but hoping everyone watching would think she was a Presa Canario?  Yeah, good times.

During a meeting with "top immigration officials" on March 24, Mr. Biden gave Mrs. Harris the job of sorting out the border problem.  She hasn't hurried to do any border czarring since then, but we know she's not going to visit said border and witness firsthand the mayhem and destruction happy slappies from every country on the planet are causing for everyone at, on, or around the southern border.  The fact that border states are declaring emergencies and suing the Biden administration goes unmentioned.  She gave a snide-snippy-snap answer to Adam Sexton's legitimate question on Friday (I'm paraphrasing): "Why are you in New Hampshire pushing infrastructure when you should be at the southern border?"

"I'm not going to play political games," she huffed, and changed the subject.

Does she know something we don't?  Is she not bothering to contact her travel agent because she knows something is going to happen that will make the whole investigation pointless?  Plenty of Republicans went down there and came away shocked out of their minds, with pictures.  Mrs. Harris, by contrast, has had phone calls with the presidents of Mexico and Guatemala.  I'll just let that hang there.

I suspect Mrs. Harris doesn't have to keep pretending to be second in line to the head of the Executive Branch of government  for much longer.  Every Democrat with any self-awareness at all is defecating in his pantaloons over the Arizona audit, over which they have lost control and they know it.  If it turns out the way the red half of the country expects it to, the Dems are cooked.  Next up will be Pennsylvania, then Michigan, then Wisconsin, then Georgia.  Then there will be a countrywide, eardrum-bursting shriek of despair as the blue half of the country swoons and faints because that means (oh, the horror!) that Trump actually did win the 2020 election, and there will be a constitutional cataclysm the likes of which this country has never seen.  

After the audits are over and the truth can no longer be fried, dyed, or denied, I can see Nancy at her post-apocalyptic press conference with her lipstick smeared and chocolate half-donuts under her eyes insisting that "Everthin' ish fine.  Itsh fine, fine, we got everthin' unner control" as Insanity is standing off to the side, clearing his throat, waiting for the right time to introduce himself.

Twenty years ago, when we bought this house, I told my husband I wanted to build a 12' high stone wall around the entire property with gun turrets every 10' to keep out the reavers that will start reaving as soon as society starts to fall apart.  He just laughed.  He's used to me saying bizarre things out of the blue, but when I bought three cases of N95 masks, yards of plastic sheeting, and boxes of masking tape from Amazon as SARS was racing to the Canadian border in '03, he never said a word.  These days, I've been catching him browsing "isolated cabin/property in Michigan" online, and I don't have to ask him what he's thinking about.  I already know.

Image: CNN via YouTube.

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