Folks, I’m so steamed I could fry an egg on my forehead! The Jeffrey Epstein client list—that filthy roster of high-flying perverts and power-hungry creeps—still hasn’t seen the light of day, and I’m about ready to bust a gasket! This is the kind of thing that makes my blood boil hotter than a Texas sidewalk in July. The FBI’s sitting on this list like a hen on a rotten egg, and I’m here to tell you: it’s time to crack it open and let the stench out!
For those of you who’ve been living under a rock (and I ain’t judging, because rocks are probably cleaner than Washington, D.C.), Jeffrey Epstein was a slimy, jet-setting scumbag who ran a sicko sex trafficking ring for the rich and famous. We’re talking politicians, CEOs, Hollywood bigwigs—the kind of folks who think laws are just suggestions. The feds raided his operation, grabbed his little black book, and now they’re acting like it’s the recipe for Aunt Mabel’s secret meatloaf. Well, I say hogwash! The American people deserve to know who was pals with this creep, and we deserve to know NOW!
NAME THE NAMES!
The FBI’s got this list locked up tighter than Fort Knox, and it’s driving me up the wall. What are they hiding? Who are they protecting? I’ll tell you who: their buddies in the elite club of champagne-sipping, caviar-slurping fat cats who think they’re above the law! These are the same clowns who lecture us about “transparency” while they’re covering up dirt that’d make a sewer rat blush. If there’s nothing to hide, then why’s the FBI acting like they’re guarding the Holy Grail? Spill the beans, G-men! Let’s see the names!I can just imagine the excuses. “Oh, Ed, we can’t release the list—it’s an ongoing investigation!” Baloney! This investigation’s been “ongoing” longer than a soap opera, and I’m sick of it. Or maybe they’ll say, “Releasing the list could compromise national security!” Double baloney with a side of bunk! The only thing it’ll compromise is the reputations of some big shots who thought they could party with Epstein and skate free. Well, I say it’s time to name names and shame shames!
And don’t give me that “privacy” nonsense either. Privacy is for folks who pay their taxes and mow their lawns, not for creeps who allegedly hung out with a guy like Epstein. If you’re on that list, you don’t get to hide behind “due process” while the rest of us are left wondering which of our so-called leaders was sipping martinis on Pedophile Island. The public’s got a right to know if the people running this country—or starring in our movies, or signing our paychecks—were buddies with a monster. Period.
WHAT YOUR FRIEND ED IS LOOKING FOR
Now, I ain’t saying everyone on that list is guilty of something. Maybe some of ‘em just had a burger with Epstein at a charity golf thing. Fine! Let’s see the list, and they can explain themselves. But if you’re innocent, why’re you sweating bullets about this thing going public? The only folks who want this buried are the ones with something to hide, and I’m madder than a wet cat that the FBI’s helping ‘em do it.
Here’s what I want: I want J. Edgar Hoover’s successors to march into a press conference, slap that client list on the table, and read every dang name out loud. No redactions, no excuses, no “we’ll get back to you.” If it’s 500 pages long, I want ‘em to read it till their throats are hoarse. And if the list includes some of their own, well, tough cookies! Clean house, FBI! The American people are fed up with secrets and lies.
This cover-up is a slap in the face to every honest, hardworking citizen who just wants the truth. We’re out here scraping by, dealing with gas prices higher than a kite, while the elites play hide-the-dirt with their pals. Enough is enough! Release the Epstein client list, or I swear I’ll drive to FBI headquarters myself and start banging on the door with my shoe!
So, to the feds, I say: quit stalling, quit stonewalling, and quit protecting the creeps. The jig is up. Let’s see that list, or I’ll be madder than a porcupine in a balloon factory—and trust me, you don’t want to see that! Write to your congressman, raise a ruckus, and let’s get this done. The truth ain’t just a suggestion—it’s a necessity!
Yours in righteous fury,
Ed Anger
1 thought on “I’M MADDER THAN A BULL IN A BOUNCE HOUSE ABOUT THIS EPSTEIN CLIENT LIST COVER-UP!”