In the next book I write I’m going to air all kinds of dirty laundry from inside the Whitehouse. The easy access I have to the inner workings of the current administration reveal information far beyond what you get in official presidential tweets. Not that the president tweets very much or shoots off inane opinions about world issues while sitting on the toilet. He’s not that shallow.
But lately he’s been asserting that there is no dirty laundry to be aired, and that just blows me away. The presidential airspace is full of clotheslines designed specifically to air out the recently-cleaned dirty laundry. So, agreed, not actually dirty, but formerly dirty and now being aired out to dry.
If you’ve bought into Sarah Sanders party line that “this president has never generated a single piece of dirty laundry,” consider this: the reason you rarely see Melania is that the president has ordered her to wash dirty laundry and hang it out in the Whitehouse yard surreptitiously, behind cleverly-designed barriers that foil paparazzi cameras. Or else she can kiss that US citizenship goodbye, because he’s sick of her talking about bullying all the time. And no, he didn’t have sex with that trollop Stormy Daniels or any other hot babe porn stars.
Instead of this dirty laundry witch hunt, would someone please look into Hilary Clinton’s dirty laundry?
If I were assigned the job of managing kids brought into the US illegally, the first thing I’d do is separate them from mom and dad. I have long believed in dividing and conquering, especially when it comes to kids and their parents. Keeping them together fosters an air of clinginess. Separating them enables you to enforce sensible parameters around behavior.
Next, I’d make sure we have the operation staffed by people who are highly adept and experienced at separating children from parents. We’ll spare no expense to make sure that only the finest separators are staffing our separation facilities! Our competitors have inferior, less-experienced separators. These Bozos go soft so easily right when they need to show toughness and resolve. My separators know to put a stop to 10 and 11 year olds’ penchant for hugging their toddler siblings. What is this, a therapy session? In my day if you needed a hug, you’d grab a plush toy and squeeze it.
And finally, I’d get rid of plush toys.
Have you met any of my friends? Let me tell you something, they’re a bunch of real jerks!
Between Tim, Mark, Todd, and Eric, you’d think one of them would shoulder some of the group’s emotional baggage, but no. All that baggage has to fall on my shoulders.
Then there’s Bob, who’s constantly contributing emotional baggage to the mix and is rarely shouldering it. Meanwhile, he has Howard, Steve, and Chris as his trusted lieutenants, willing to take a bullet for him, willing to shoulder great heaps of emotional baggage on his behalf, and still he is running a deficit between the emotional baggage he contributes and the amount he and his team shoulder.
This drives me bonkers! Get your shoulders into it if you want people to identify you as someone who has both give and take responsibilities, in terms of baggage that’s emotional in nature.
Meanwhile, I asked a couple of my enemies (you know who you are) about the fake emotional baggage they’re allegedly – and I do mean allegedly – contributing to the community, and it turns out they don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. It’s so refreshing! They’re extremely strong and powerful in their denials. They tell me that they are actually contributing emotional energy, not baggage. That’s the kind of attitude I wish some of my friends would have. Instead, they are meek and mild and friendly.
The reason that you can’t understand the dichotomy between my friends and my enemies is that I have a kind of a double-negative sort of thing going on.
Score one for my enemies.
If I were a genius, my aim would be to be very stable, as those are the kind of geniuses that my data tell me are in short supply these days.
Unstable geniuses? They’re everywhere. You can’t walk down a country lane without encountering an unstable genius. You find them encamped in the local greasy spoon in West Podunk, VT, seemingly normal until you sit down beside them and order poached eggs over corned beef hash, whereupon they start ranting about string theory and shake you down for your opinion of it. But the only theory you have related to string involves cheese, your theory being that string cheese is actually not cheese, but almost-edible plastic.
Watch out, because your average unstable genius will get ticked off when s/he attempts to explain the nature of matter, the relationship between particles, and the origins of our universe, only to be confounded by your mind-numbing references to a dairy product.
If I represented you in the court of public opinion, I’d say, “Look, where is my client, the average dunce, supposed to have heard about string theory anyway, in the fake science books?” And then I’d make references to your coming to this country via chain migration from some shithole, which will tick off your long-form birth certificate-wielding American mother.
As I write this, I realize that while I’m not, personally, a genius, I nevertheless am becoming more and more unstable by the minute.
Heading back to my own personal shithole to see if my long-form Canadian citizenship documents are in good working order.
J'Biden Era Haikuage
People's Arms. That's right!
200 million shots
In 100 days
We are good people
But we still have far to go
Repair. Restore. Heal.
There's nothing new here
The Affordable Care Act
We're restoring it
Democracy is fragile
The world is watching
Strategy is based
On Science, not politics
Truth, not denial
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