At the field camp, paper-thin tents shudder beneath katabatic blasts of freezing wind, stoves sputter a stingy flame, and a few trudging specks haul shovels through a cold world where extra food and equipment cannot be bought at any price.
He decides to overtrace the moko on Te Rau's face.
I used to have a sign on my desk that said, The Buck Stops Here. The buck stops at the president's desk when he's president of the United States, and he either makes the decisions or he lets them go by default, and you can't afford to do that when you're president.
The Buck Stops Here.
Instead, you got into lockstep with all the other hive-mind libtard drones and voted for the slimy corrupt scumbag bitch who was under two active Congressional investigations (a first in history, BTW), Hitlery Clinton.
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