Great Idea

Dear Mr. Trump,

I've got a great idea.  Why not host a golf outing for North Korea?  

I'm sure Kim wouldn't mind a little Florida sunshine, and you two could duke out your differences on the golf course.  Hell, he might even defect!

If it works, you'll never have to haul your sorry ass away from Mar-a-Lago again.

Think about it,

Underemployed 

Dear Mr. Trump

Dear Mr. Trump,

I'm a little depressed.

Not about you, per se.  The moment I wrote you off as a nutcase, you lost the power to depress me.

Even when you hold up some bullshit piece of "legislation" (like you really understand legislation), glowing with your "Look at me!  I'm a big boy now!" face (actually scarier than your "Mussolini" face, which makes you look like something crawled up your butt and died), I remain immune.

No, what depresses me is that sea of happy (mostly white) faces that seem to populate your every photo op.  Much more depressing than you is what crawled out of the woodwork after you.  Smiling and applauding, they are always there, seemingly unaware of...well...anything. 

But you.  (Where have I see this before?  Oh, yeah.  North Korea.)

Now, given that these people are not certifiably insane, are apparently competent enough to match their belts to their shoes, and haven't be gelded, what would motivate an entire roomful of people - not to mention 292 or so Republican members of Congress - to encourage the tantrums and (potentially dangerous) antics of a petulant, mentally and morally deficient, giant orange man-baby?

I'm at a loss.

Since they can't possibly all be completely stupid, it must be either greed or fear.  Now, no amount of money is going to make nuclear winter or global warming any more fun and, personally, I can't imagine how someone could possibly be afraid of you.

Unless...

1. Your BFF Steve Bannon and his dirt-digging machinery at Breitbart have something to do with it.
2. You are Washington's Harvey Weinstein.  (Are you Harvey Weinstein?  The similarities are striking.)
3. There are a lot of things about you that I don't know anything about.  Things I wouldn't understand.  Things I couldn't understand.  Things I shouldn't understand.

What I do know is that this doesn't bode well.  At the very least, it's creepy.  And your "base" is starting to look like a Village People fancon.

Maybe Donald Jr. could shed some light here?  They don't call him "Fredo" for nothing.

Perplexedly yours,

Underemployed

Conspiracy Alert!

Dear Mr. Trump,

The news was a bit unsettling this morning.  

There's Houston still breaking our hearts, and they haven't seen anything yet if the EPA continues its rather disinterested approach.  Please tell Scott Pruitt (if you can find him) to turn off  the video game and get to work.  

Then there's North Korea thumping its chest today.  I hope you're tired from your trip to Houston, and you won't do anything too strenuous when you thump back.  Maybe you could apply your "Never Met a Dictator I Didn't Like!" philosophy to finding a way to make friends with this guy.  Or just agree to designate the chest thumping as "For Display Purpose Only".

But the BIG news, and this is what you really need to worry about, is the seizure of Russian posts in DC and New York.  Are you finally getting tough on Putin?  I'm guessing no, that it was the State Department's (i.e., Jeff Sessions') idea.  There seems to be something of a search going on.  And a cover-up, too, given the column of black smoke coming from the San Francisco consulate. 

I mean, they weren't electing a pope in there.

So what is Mr. Sessions looking for?  I propose one of the following:

1. Stuff to exonerate you.
2. Stuff to convict you. 

Given the recent bumps in your relationship with Mr. Sessions (who might have a long memory), I'd choose #2 and take up drinking if I were you.

Think about it:  President Pence/Vice President Sessions.  It could happen.

And it would made Steve Bannon very, very happy.  

Just a heads up,

Underemployed