What a Surprise

Dear Mr. Trump,

Bob Woodward's book has barely reared its long-awaited head, and I think we already have a consensus:  He's not telling us anything we don't already know.  "We" being everybody on Earth who isn't flat-lining. 

The book is, apparently, a confirmation.  Not a revelation.  Certainly not a fabrication.  Calling the book a fabrication only exacerbates your own Godzilla-like credibility issues, if that's even possible.  For starters, the man has tapes.  Lots of them.  He also has receipts (look it up, on Google), like 2 Pulitzer Prizes, 5 years in the Navy, 12 best sellers.  

And one presidential notch already on his belt.  

Furthermore, I appeal to whatever sense of self-preservation you may possess to think twice about calling for tougher libel laws.  First of all, it's too late; and secondly, you'll only be opening yourself up to a hundred million lawsuits (Ted Cruz might have one.  Certainly Mrs. Cruz does.)  If you think Woodward's book is libel, my advice is to stop paying so much attention to professional barnacles like Tucker Carlson and Sean Hannity, and start paying more attention to your Google search results.  

Grim as all this might seem, however, it's not your biggest worry.  Don't look now, but your Vice President thinks that God is "calling him" to be "president-in-waiting".

Personally I think God has the wrong number, but what does that even mean?  It means that your biggest worry is, perhaps, how your Vice President thinks God is going to help him out on this.

Consider:  Either Pence thinks he's going to step into your office when God gives you a heart attack, or Mueller gives you an indictment.  Or he thinks he's going to take it in 2020.  (Because you're not there for some reason.  Heart attack?  Indictment?)  Or he thinks he's going to run in 2024.  And win.  Unlikely in my opinion, despite the power of God, unless he seriously lightens up on the Juvederm.

So that leaves the first two options.  There might be other possibilities here, of which I'm not nefarious enough to conceive.  

But I'm sure Mike and God are working on it.

Watch your back,

Underemployed

Dear Ted Cruz

Dear Ted Cruz,

Shut up.

Thank you,

Underemployed

Dear Steve Bannon

Dear Mr. Bannon,

Nice "wingman" work on Ted Cruz!  Though mean-spirited bullying is not normally my cup of tea, I do admit that watching Republicans cannibalize each other is sort of a guilty pleasure.

I have a favor to ask.  As long as you've declared war on the GOP, can I give you my wish list?

Here they are, in no particular order:

1. Mike Pence,
2. Steve Miller,
3. Javanka,
4. Donald Jr.,
5. Donald Sr.,
6. Kellyanne Conway,
7. Mitch McConnell,
8. Paul Ryan,
9. Sean Hannity,
10. And, of course, yourself.

There are more - many more - like the fat moron in Texas who wants to fight a duel with Susan Collins, but that's the B-list.  This is a good start.  

Please note I've left out foreign nationals.

Keep it coming,

Underemployed

Curiouser and Curiouser

Dear Mr. Trump,

Every time I think that life under your inspired leadership can't get any weirder, it does.  Especially curious, and often disturbingly so, is your circle of confidants. A few of them would probably pass a psych eval, but I'm pretty sure that if I had to spend five minutes in a room with Mike Pence, Jeff Sessions, Steve Bannon, Steve Miller, and/or Kellyanne Conway, I could probably be persuaded to buy a one-way ticket to Mars.

I will now add Roger Stone to the list, the latest lunatic to emerge from your ever-increasing shadows.  I just can't keep up with all of these people, try as I might.  Much as I wish I didn't have to.

So, yeah, Roger.  Actually he's been on and off the scene for some time now.  A very snappy dresser, I'm told.  Doesn't wear socks, which disturbed Nancy Reagan, but hey! Einstein didn't wear socks either.  That's not enough to put him on my "whoa! wtf?" list. 

But this stuff is:

1. He talks to you more often than I talk to my children.
2. He exchanges tweets with Russian hackers.
3. He once said, "One man's dirty trick is another man's civic participation."
4. He thinks that someone is trying to bump him off,
5. Because he thinks he was the victim of polonium 210 poisoning,
6. And then - yesterday - an attempt at vehicular homicide.
7. Because...why?
8. And...by who?  The Russians?  You?
9. To quote Ted Cruz (God help me, I'm quoting Ted Cruz):  "He's a man for whom a term was coined for copulating with a rodent."
10. But the best reason - and I saw a picture of this, which may finally drive me into therapy - he has a picture of Richard Nixon tattooed on his back.

I think I'm done.  Good Lord, I hope so.  As I've said before, as soon as you start acting goofy, and I believe your "wiretapping" accusations qualify as goofy, one should check out what else is happening in your arena.

(By the way, you didn't use quotation marks in all of those tweets.  Go back and check.)

And if you see Rachel Maddow, tell her to calm down.

Very truly yours,

Underemployed

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.