What I worry about is this: Dumphik wakes up one morning on the wrong side of a twitter feed.
Melania looks at him funny. She calls him Trumpledumple and pulls his ears. He tells her to go get a name change, since Melania reminds him of melanoma, which, if she didn't know it, due to the bimbo effect known to afflict Slovenian ex-models, is the kind of bad cancer you can get from the sun. Donwald likes the sun. He'd like to own if not the sun than at least a share, a slice, a solar flare. He'd like to build a casino for all the planets to see.
Then there are people around him pooh-poohing his talk about marrying Ivanka. Words like incest come up. Weirdly, Ivanka, in that simpering and insinuating way she has, like her shit don't, like she has never taken even one truly smelly crap, chimes in.
Dumph thinks this might be Jared Kushner's influence since at the end of the day, let's face it, who is this Kushner? Jared is a Jew, right? Jared the Jew. Enough said.
And then there's this guy parading around on Fifth Avenue with a sign saying:
Trump Shot Me
It Didn't Work
I Don't Love Him
Guess What Else
I'd Like To Bust A Cap
Up His Fat White Ass
Can't the secret service, the NSA, the FBI, the CIA what have you grab this guy and throw him into a cement mixer?
Why not? Where in the Constitution does it say anything about cement mixers?
So. . . THIS would be a bad time for Kim Jong-il to launch one of his missiles into the sky.
A bad time for anyone in Iran to be anyone in Iran.
Possibly a bad time for anyone anywhere.
A bad time for Africa, Asia and Antarctica. A bad time for elephants and museums. True not everything would be annihilated. The Jerry Springer show would survive, to show the future, assuming any, what our civilization was really like. Jerry Springer and obviously roaches.
This is what I fear about Trumph in a really bad mood. Call me a worry wort, but what I really fear is what seems to be the his nearly inevitable
psychiatric/psychological resort into war.