Time to invoke the 25th Amendment.
Earlier today, after spending hours trying to digest/swallow Putin’s President’s nominee for the Supreme Court, I tried not to vomit. That continued as I tried not to go ballistic over the fact that the Senate Finance Committee cheated by changing the rules for reporting nominations out of committee and sent PRICE — nominee who wants to gut Obamacare, Medicare, Medicaid and Social Security — out for an up or down vote on the senate floor. You see, in the real world — pre-Trump — the Senate had rules. They followed those rules. And things worked out OK.
Now? Not so much. Things don’t seem to be going quite so well.
So naturally, I thought of poop. And my friend Nikki/Jordan provided the backup for my concerns. Sloths.
So I’m figuring that the Trump Administration is a collection of sloths, all holding in their shit for a week at a time. And that explains how miserable they are. Constipation doesn’t make for happy government nominees.
This explains everything.
If he did it in a vacuum, it wouldn’t matter. If nobody listened to him, it wouldn’t matter. If nobody took it upon themselves to act on his comments, it wouldn’t matter.
But people do. When Donald Trump Tweets, others act.
And it’s never pleasant.
We’ve all heard the stories. Most recently it was this one:
Chuck Jones, who is President of United Steelworkers 1999, has done a terrible job representing workers. No wonder companies flee country!
What happens after Trump Tweets?
Threats. In phone calls, on social media, in the mail.
Trump himself doesn’t threaten. Like the folks who clean his toilets, he has people for that.
“Cyber Brownshirts” will do the dirty work.
I know he’s a Hitler Youth, not a Brownshirt.