Anyway, last night I didn't blog about Trump possibly referring to himself as a king over interfering with New York local politics over "congestion pricing" or with his daft, ahistorical and ignorant ravings over whether Ukrainian president Zelenskyy is a "dictator" (while Vladimir Putin has ruled Russia for a quarter century, and no, the temporary interregnum of Nukesy-Pukesy the Drunken Hate-America Elf does not count). I wrote a short science fiction story instead because it gave my brain a rest from what can only be described as imprecatory cursing bordering on being entered on several watchlists, from Homeland Security to St. Peter's.
But my problem coalesced for me in the above picture of our US Vice-President, JD (Jimmy Donuts?) Vance, sitting there with his Little Lord Fauntleroy awkward short-looking trousers. Jello Dildo Vance never learned how to buy pants. When I say "Big Men in Kids' Pants" I am not talking about in a Matt Gaetz way or a Tate Brothers' way--although their pants truly also don't fit and make them look stupid and juvenile. Also, they fuck underage girls. (That's called "statutory rape" in law-and-order world.)
I mean they have never learned to pull up their big boy pants and pretend they have a "crisis of manhood" when they have a crisis of not figuring out --not the "man" part--but the "adult" part.
Donald Trump and Elon Musk are the real machers, so I will leave Vance alone for a minute--and he's used to it! And they never earned a callous between them. Billions of dollars, yes. Did a 70 hour week of physical on your feet pallet jack and register banging work-no. Never climbed poles, fought fires, worn a hardhat but never used the equipment but for show. Their work is investing.
