Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

It's me, your old friend, and I take back every rotten thing I've ever said about you. 

I was just kidding, anyway.  My admirable colleague, Chris Collins (R-N.Y., not very bright), says you are "just a fun guy", so I'd like to think that you've enjoyed many a good laugh at my political shenanigans.  But I promise I'll never do it again.

Let's start over.  We can make this work.

For you, O Tremendous One Of Tall Towers and Huge Hands, my Republican friends and I are willing to SACRIFICE THE WELL-BEING OF EVERY PERSON IN THIS COUNTRY, as well as our collective integrity, that we may bask anew in the warmth of your orange glow.

To show our sincerity and esteem, we've cooked up a humdinger of a health care bill that we think we can ram through the Senate before September 30th.  This is our gift, and proof of rudimentary competence, to you.  So you don't feel like you have to look elsewhere for the love and appreciation you so crave and deserve.  The bill is actually even worse than any of the other ones we've tried to pull off, if that's possible, but who cares?  Only Democrats.  Oh, and any Americans who need decent health care, but only the ones north of the Mason-Dixon line who can read and/or aren't passed out on opioids. 

They'll come around.  They always do.  Even the Democrats will, if we legalize marijuana.  Trust me.  All will be forgotten and forgiven by November 2018.

I hope. 

Now please stop eating Chinese food with Nancy Pelosi.  It's more than I can bear.

Faithfully yours forever and ever, until the end of time,

And I really mean it,

Lindsey Graham