This is how the former game show host and current Republican front runner for his party's nomination for "President" chose to greet his followers on the always ironically named platform Truth. Not for the first time, I considered trying to turn off the access this screeching tangerine has to any portion of my brain. Responding in any way to his messages or his followers is like tilting at windmills. Big, scary, stupid windmills that can't find the caps lock key. Of course, this is a challenging metaphor since his royal wackness insists that windmills cause cancer and kill birds and cause whales to beach themselves.
How will the next eleven months roll with this kind of holiday cheer as a blueprint for the One Day Dictator?
2024 is an election year, and just maybe coincidentally a leap year. That means that unless one of the ninety-one current counts against him lands him in jail without access to a keyboard, we will all continue to hear way too much from this deeply flawed human being for all those days leading up to Election Day. This includes February 29. Three hundred thirteen days. I don't know about you, but I am looking forward to the end of this seemingly endless torrent of spite and malice. I don't know how much more of this I can take.
Wake me up when November ends.
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