Can we #ImpeachTrump now? I feel like the kid trapped in the family station wagon on a long road trip. Are we there yet? It’s been two years. Can we do this already, or do there have to be mushroom clouds first?
I swear that my head almost explodes every time I hear the man start to speak. Something about his whiney, wheedling tone just sets my teeth on edge. It’s not some high moral thing that I don’t listen to him speak. Ever. In reality I cannot listen to him speak without being driven slowly insane. A sense of self-preservation keeps me from listening to him. A sense of self-preservation born of too many times being hoodwinked by Amway charlatans, bible thumpers and snake-oil salesmen. I know their type now, having schooled myself on their untrustworthiness over 50 years of life experience.
I know an evil lying bastard now, the moment he clears his throat and starts to speak. Nothing that voice says will be truthful, so there is no point in paying attention to it.