I woke myself up from a nightmare last night. I was in Washington and walking at night toward the White House when lights flashed and I saw the statues on the lawn, lit up in a golden light. When I put on my distance vision glasses I saw these huge stone pieces and all of them were of Donald Trump. In one he was swinging a golf club, in another dressed in a gaudy military uniform and saluting toward another statue of himself. this one was dressed in a tuxedo. There were more but the lights began a pulsating motion and I was afraid I might have a seizure.
Luckily, I woke myself up, heart racing and thoughts tumbling around in my brain. I was afraid, very afraid, of what I might see inside the White House.
I think I have an idea, though. Some weeks ago, I was reading People magazine when an article with pictures appeared about The Donald and his Manhattan residence. It looked as though Michael Jackson and Liberace were the inspiration or maybe the decorators.
Shouldn’t there be a limit on bling, glitz and bad taste for any occupant of the White House?
Oh, the whining about the Grand Old Party. I can’t remember when it was grand but am sure it was never as bad as it is today. I do love the discord and the way they don’t see how this awful outcome came about. Does anybody remember G.W. and his payback about his daddy? or Cheney and Rummy? With that memory come the deaths they caused, the debt, the unemployment, the loss of status in the world. I almost forgot ISIS which they fostered through their warmongering.
Then, let’s move on to the Tea Party. There is blame aplenty for the Republican angst.
Much as I do like to go didn’t I tell you that hey will eat their own young on live TV soon? Everyone is, I’m sure, sick of hearing me say that. But I’m not at all sick of saying it. I am sick of having to watch it.
Watching Trump is like having nausea every waking moment interspersed with yelling at the TV.
Could we please, please have a 24 hour moratorium on him. Just a day without this narcissistic bigot. His promises are like a carny barker’s cures for acne.
And don’t buy any of it that spews out of him – he will do whatever takes his fancy, and then brag about his net worth, his intelligence, his awful awesomeness.
We all need a vacation from this joke of a presidential race.