Sunday, May 12, 2024

Heeeeere's Donny!

 

Sometimes, I wonder if I try to diagnose Trump from afar just a little too much, you know? What do we make of a segue to praise a (deceased?) fictional serial killer? Is it an awkward joke--or are we just being softened up to find out Trump has eaten a man? (Suddenly the last puzzle piece of the "Q" op slides into place as the uttermost human taboo has been broken.)

Is it really any better that this is probably more evidence that his brain has finally rendered into burger fat and sleaze? Not that Trump's fans in Wildwood or anywhere else seem to care, as of yet. Actually, they seem to be devolving right along with Trump.

(Uh, yes--this is real.  Diapers today, and there will probably be lobotomy stalls coming to Trump rallies in the near future.)

Do you want to know what's sad? My next damn post I'm working on involves this Trump clown, too. He should have been laughed out of political life over birtherism back in 2011--permanently. And yet, here we are.

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