In all 12 minutes of his campaign, I never saw a single person come out in support of Bill de Blasio. I think he was the most universally disliked candidate across the board. Someone should give him a prize for that.
Luckily for everyone, he finally put an end to his campaign, and the New York Post honored its death with a fitting tribute on their front page.
— New York Post (@nypost) September 20, 2019
The obituary reads,
Bill de Blasio’s presidential campaign, May 15, 2019-Sept. 20, 2019, dead of ego-induced psychosis. Neighbors said the body had been in rigor mortis for some time.
It died doing what it loved best — being as far away from New York City as possible. It was surrounded in the end by friends, MSNBC hosts. It’s in a better place now– a Park Slope gym.
Whether it was in the empty churches of south Carolina, the sun-kissed empty deserts of Nevada, or begging someone, anyone, to talk to de Blasio at the Iowa State Fair, the campaign always gave 100% — and always polled at 1%. “Can’t” was never part of its vocabulary. Neither was “won’t,” “please stop,” or “this is a dumb idea.”
The campaign is survived by hotel industry officials who expect favors from City Hall. And 8 million suffering New Yorkers.
In lieu of flowers, de Blasio asks for donations to his slush fund.
Y’all, I think it’s only right that we all send an ice pack de Blasio’s way to help him deal with that burn. I almost feel sorry for him, having to return to govern a city that hates him so freaking much. But I still feel worse for New York.