Freud is all about lip gloss and wrist scrunchies and starting coven grade shit threads.
When FT closed he lost his couch mojo and should change his nic to Elsa of Arendelle.
And...when he was in the FT secret cave, he would call Trump a bag of orange, desiccated skin stretched over 250 pounds of french fries and cheese puffs with the intelligence of a fossilized marshmallow peep.
He said a brain damaged opossum butt texting could produce a more coherent tweet than Trump, that a constipated donkey had a better grasp on foreign and domestic policy than that literal bag of dog shit on fire, Donald J Trump
and a lot worse...
and now freud is fluttering around like a blue bird singing Trump love 24/7