Can You Imagine the Inauguration?
Since the reelection of President Dipshit, I’m handling things better than I thought I would. It was a huge kick in the tits for a few hours to realize this country hates women so deeply that we’d put a buffoon with a penis back in the Oval Office before a perfectly competent woman who has risen to amazing heights in her profession.
My emotional progression over the last few days has been despair, rage, and now a sort of calm, amused disbelief.
Can you imagine what that inauguration is going to be like? He can barely utter a coherent sentence anymore. He’s having trouble walking and opening garbage truck doors. He falls asleep in the middle of things. Reportedly, he shits himself constantly.
Will Melania show up to the ceremony this time, or will she even bother? Will they have to cut it short when he gets too tired and cranky and needs a nap? Will he even be able to repeat the Oath of Office? Who knows.
And then what? Are they going to be able to continue to hide his meltdowns and temper tantrums from the press? He’ll do his best to keep the press out of the White House, of course, but the media is going to LOVE that he’s back in office. It would be nice to think that this time around they’d do their damn jobs and really dig into the depravity going on in the t-rump White House, but again, who knows.
