Some wit declared that President Trump is now living rent-free in America’s head. I believe this is true, and it’s got to stop.
A typical day:
8 a.m. – I wake up and check Twitter to ascertain the day’s Trump-related outrage. I read a few tweets from thoroughly unpleasant Trump fans and from equally revolting Trump haters.
8:15 a.m. – After reading these tweets, my day is effectively ruined.
9:00 a.m. – I make coffee and vaguely recall that Starbucks is in trouble for something pro- or anti-Trump-related, can’t say which.
10 a.m. – Trip to the mall and walk by Nordstrom. Wonder if the store is gaining or losing customers based on the Ivanka flap.
Noon – Have lunch at a Mexican restaurant. Wonder if the Hispanic employees are shooting me hostile glances, or if I’m just imagining it.
2 p.m. – Home again. Time to check in with Twitter. More hostile tweets, from the public and from Trump himself.
5 p.m. – Decide to surf a little porn. Stumble on a site featuring Russian hookers peeing on one another.
7 p.m. – Prime time for cable news. Must select among Fox outrage, MSNBC outrage, or CNN outrage.
10:30 p.m. – Need relief from all the Trump coverage; time for some comedy. Fallon, Kimmel, and Colbert all doing monologues on the Trump administration.
Midnight – Time for bed. Can’t sleep. Visions of Steve Bannon and Rosie O’Donnell keeping me awake.
This cannot continue. I’d move to another country, but all of them seem to be equally obsessed with Trump. Also, they all have Twitter.
One Last Football Story
© 2010-2019 grouchyeditor.com (text only)