When I came to, after reading Donald Trump will be the Republican nominee, his wife came to mind.
If The Donald gets elected, she’s the First Lady.
How can that be when she looks like Miss January.
Perhaps I do dwell in the past, but she’ll step into the shoes of Abigail Adams, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Jackie.
Sorry, I’ll compose myself.
How is this possible?
As much as she resembles Butch Cassidy minus the charm, Hillary would at least bring Sundance, I mean Bill, to the winner’s circle.
He’d be the First Gentleman, in name only of course, since that famous blowjob of his, sort have robbed him of the title. Talk about returning to the scene of the crime with egg on his face, which could explain why his cholesterol is so high.
One can’t help but think of how beautifully dressed Jackie was, by Oleg Cassini, along with countless other classic designers, as well as Diana Vreeland being a mentor of hers. She’d call her at the Metropolitan Museum of Art when she curated their annual costume exhibit, for pointers.
Who’s Melania gonna call? 1-800 CAN YOU MAKE THIS ANY TIGHTER?
And what kind of a name is that? She sounds like a country off the coast of Spain.
Frankly, I wish Ivana was still the current Mrs.Trump having more gravitas. Okay, not much more, but at least, she doesn’t look like a paper doll.
Trump goes through wives like gym socks. I picture a closet with several hanging in garment bags with expiration dates, you know, like baloney.
As Peggy Noonan wrote in the Wall Street Journal, and I’ll paraphrase.
“Our choice of leaders will either be a lunatic, or one who is morally corrupt.”
Rather than cast a ballot, should we just toss a coin?
Electing Donald Trump is like voting for Aaron Burr who, in a fit of pique, if you remember, shot and killed Alexander Hamilton, our first and most revered Secretary of the Treasury under George Washington.
If Hillary becomes president, we’ll be taking tips from Captain Bligh.
Where are the likes of Jefferson and Lincoln, Teddy and JFK, even with his zipper down?
The Presidency of the United States is in trouble. It needs a paint job, a make-over, or at least a tryout in New Haven.
Don’t know about you, but come election day, I’ll be wrapped in black bunting, a flask unscrewed, before getting screwed, in my purse, humming Taps. .