Kamala Harris has a new book out, and folks, it’s everything you’d expect from the queen of word-salad politics with a side of elite self-pity. Titled *107 Days*, it’s a behind-the-scenes tell-all of her failed 2024 campaign—and boy, does it read like a therapy session no one asked for.
Instead of reflecting on why her ticket got steamrolled by President Trump and his America First movement, Harris spends chapter after chapter whining about her hand-picked running mate, Minnesota Governor Tim Walz. According to Harris, the whole election hinged on the October 1 vice-presidential debate, where Walz squared off against now-Vice President J.D. Vance. Spoiler alert: Team Blue crumbled, and Kamala wants you to know it wasn’t her fault.
In one particularly revealing moment, Harris recounts “moaning” to her husband during the debate as Walz nodded along to Vance’s remarks. She writes, “What is happening?” as if she was watching a horror movie instead of the guy she chose to be a heartbeat away from the presidency. “You’re not there to make friends with the guy who is attacking your running mate,” she scolded her own VP pick—too bad she didn’t mention that to him before the cameras started rolling.
Tim Walz, it turns out, was never confident in the role. Harris admits that he “fretted from the outset” about debating, but she brushed it off because he was “quick and pithy” at campaign rallies. That’s right—Team Kamala picked a guy to take on Vance, a Marine and Yale Law graduate, based on how well he could toss one-liners at a crowd and wave. Genius.
And just when you think it couldn’t get worse, Walz fumbled a question about whether he was actually present at the Tiananmen Square protests in 1989—a claim he had made. Instead of clarifying, he veered off into a bizarre story about biking in Nebraska. That’s not just a bad debate answer; that’s a GPS malfunction of the brain.
But Harris, true to form, doesn’t take real responsibility for any of it. No, she blames “unfair” attacks, Vance’s “petulant” complaints, and even praises a *Saturday Night Live* sketch for nailing the awkwardness of the whole night. Apparently, the only thing more accurate than Walz’s bike route was the way SNL portrayed Kamala nearly spitting out her wine in horror. It was meant to be satire, but even Harris admits it was “uncanny.”
As for how Walz made it onto the ticket in the first place, Harris reveals that her husband preferred Josh Shapiro, but she ultimately made the call while cooking a pork roast. Yes, the Democrats selected a potential future president based on a decision made between seasoning meat and setting the oven timer. No wonder the campaign performance was half-baked.
This book isn’t just a postmortem of a failed campaign—it’s a window into the dysfunction and delusion that defined the Democrat ticket. Harris and her team had the entire liberal establishment, the legacy media, and Hollywood behind them, and they still managed to lose to Trump and Vance in historic fashion. And now, rather than soul-searching or acknowledging the disconnect with the American people, Kamala is moaning about debate prep like a high school drama coach who picked the wrong understudy.
Here’s the bottom line: When your campaign’s biggest takeaway is that your VP pick messed up a debate and your decision-making process involved pork seasoning, maybe the problem wasn’t just Tim Walz. Maybe—just maybe—it was the message, the messengers, and the complete lack of connection to the working-class Americans you claimed to fight for.
Kamala’s memoir is supposed to be a reflection on the road to the White House. Instead, it reads like a long, slow ride back to reality. And judging by what’s inside, she still hasn’t arrived.