TAKE HIM OFF OUR HANDS

Let's get one thing straight, since Scott Presler isn't: he's a freak. 

If Republicans had engineered an ideal activist in a lab, then Presler would be the discarded, toxic waste that mutated into sapience. To survive, it feeds itself with grifts, leaching onto cause after cause, slowly annoying its victims (us) to death. 

But Slippery Soctt doesn't see himself—herself? Can't tell—that way. Presler has tried to fashion an image as the GOP's hall monitor, targeting much more powerful adversaries in a desperate attempt at relevancy. His current target is Senator John Thune, who seems to have caught it after the RNC establishment warded Presler away with smoke and garlic. 

At least they learned from their mistakes? Never let a vampire inside. He might host orgies in your office and post sick photos of it on Craigslist. 

But that hasn't seemed to stop simps like Rand Paul and Maye Musk from sucking up to him, even at the risk of alienating true Republicans, like this guy on Twitter. 

Here's the thing: Scott Presler is a flaming liability, more interested in setting parts of the GOP on fire rather than unifying it. Republican leaders rely on votes. Shady opportunists like him deal in outrage. And retweets. 

Take his resume for example. Before rebranding himself as the GOP's voter-registration celebrity, Presler promoted QAnon hashtags and embraced conspiracy theories. That's not exactly the sort of background that inspires confidence among institutional Republicans. 

And don't get us started on his lifestyle. Even the mainstream media couldn't look away from his miscreant sexual conduct and past calling card on the questionable-at-best casting site, Explore Talent. 

Controversy isn't just a bug in Presler's personal brand. It's the product. And the GOP needs to cut itself away from him. Fast.