Everybody Knows

I've come to the conclusion that President* Trump is at his scariest whenever he says, "Everybody knows."

Here is a partial list of what Mr. Trump thinks everybody knows:

1. He calls his own shots.  (Who else would be this stupid?)
2. "...largely based on an accumulation of data."  (I shudder to think.)
3. His hair is real.  (That's a good thing?)
4. As is He, Himself.  (Ditto.)
5. The Russian 'story' is fake news.  (Not.)
6. And there is no collusion.  (Speaking strictly for himself, of course - so he says - but still.  Not.)
7. Everybody's against him.  (This worries me.)
8. James Comey is a showboat, a grandstander, a real nut job.  And crazy.  ("I know you are, but what am I?")
9. The system is rigged.  (Agreed.  But by whom?)
10. He had the largest inauguration crowd, period.  (In spite of what you might have heard/seen/counted/cared about.)
11. Jeb Bush is a wuss.  (Obviously.)
12. Steve Harvey.

This is but a sampling.  There's much more.  Mr. Trump may not be in contact with the Russians, but he appears to be in constant contact with the little green people on his home planet.

Mr. Trump, I assure you there is one thing for sure that everybody knows:

You're toast.

The Real Issue

The minute I saw the Republican candidates all lined up on the stage, chomping at the bit to get debating, I knew who the nominee would eventually be.

 

And how did I know this? 

 

Hair.  It was all about the hair.

 

Needless to say, my vision of next November's election began with noticing that Donald Trump's hair looked a little weirder than usual.  Donald Trump's hair has always befuddled and, dare I say it? disturbed me.  It has befuddled me because it's not like he's poor, or clueless, or doesn't care.  He's a gazillionaire and goes to great lengths to get his hair to look that way, which can only be described as "surreal".  And I have been disturbed, because it creates an eerie connection with Bill Gates that can't possibly be coincidental.

 

Jeb, I promise you, Woodrow Wilson would never have been elected president if TV had been around back then.  Along the same lines, Mr. Huckabee, your likeness to Hubert Humphrey is doing you no favors.

 

Rand.  Dude.  If that's a perm, stop it.  If it isn't a perm, cut it.

 

Chris, are you trying to look like "Big Boy"?  I mean, is it necessary to have the hair, too?  You haven't noticed?  Don't get me wrong, darling.  Personally, I find the resemblance rather endearing on account of the nostalgia I always feel when I see you.  Because I knew, as a small child, that we were near Grandma's house as soon as I saw that jolly guy smiling down at me from the top of his restaurant.

 

Scott Walker?  A walking ad for Hairclub for Men.  To be fair, some of the hair on the back of his head may have defected and moved to Megyn Kelly's eyelids.

 

Ben, your hair is okay.  But you're going to need more than okay to distract people from the growing suspicion that you hear voices.

 

(Where did this Kasich guy come from?  Did I spell that right?)

 

So who's going to be America's Dream Date?

 

Marco Rubio, of course.  With Ted Cruz (the thinking man's Donald Trump) right behind him. 

 

It's so obvious.