I don’t know how everybody else here regards politics, but I try to balance my cynicism with an equal amount of vague optimism and cover it all with a liberal helping of (usually dark) humor. So when Trump was elected in 2016, after my initial despair passed I tried to convince myself it might not be SO bad.
But like it or not, we’ve ALL grown somewhat accustomed to Trump’s insanity and evilness in dribs and drabs and increments over the last four years. I thought about that last night while Trump was raving on twitter under the influence of god knows what drug cocktail, in the middle of a global pandemic and economic crisis, and I realized if you’d beamed quasi-hopeful me from November 2016 into the present I would have had an immediate and severe nervous breakdown. And although that thought gave me a good laugh, I also cannot WAIT for this shit to be over. I’m so fucking tired.
Michael Cohen describes Trump doing it himself. Long rear hair flipped forward, then back, side hair combed over, hurricane of VO5. All to cover the scars from failed hair plugs. That scene alone will make the movie “Disloyal” worth the ameros.
I am utterly baffled by his complete lack of self-awareness, his risible bridge-and-tunnel cluelessness: here's a guy for whom appearances are paramount, yet who looks pathetic, and has truly terrible, laughable taste in decor and other cultural signifiers. Perhaps that boy from Queens figured he'd never carry off the pose of a real Upper East Sider, so he decided to look like a mafia don from New Jersey instead.
Every Trump property I’ve been by or in has been hideous or worse. His esthetic is limited to shiny and golden (except for the brutalist protrusion on Manhattan’s upper east side).
He has no taste, was raised by people with no taste and is a moron, so taste cannot be expected from someone like that — and Donnie is proof.
We’re well into the Decadron Dreams stage of Trump’s dumpster fire. When he comes down, and into the long-hauler phase of post-COVID debilitation, the level of Tweet whining should reach grounded-teen levels.
The idea that Trump thinks Jackson was "good" (because he killed Indians) but qualifies it "for his time" (because he didn't dye his hair) is so, so -- well I'd say funny but I think the word I want is "true."
So I don't usually like to talk about my health issues but they seem germane to the post. I have sarcoidosis. It's not a really bad case and I manage it with low doses of steroids. Prednisone to be exact. However, sometimes I have to take large doses. Like when the smoke set in here in Oregon recently, I started having some breathing issues and my doctor bumped my dosage up to 40 milligrams per day. I then reduce the dosage every three days until I'm back to my normal dose of 5 milligrams a day, which is not much more than your body produces anyway.
Then I'm "normal".
You don't want me running anything when I'm on high doses of steroids. "Roid" rage is real. I'm edgy, angry, occasionally have thoughts of suicide and would punch any motherfucker who talks sideways at me without a hitch. Therefore, I go on sick leave - don't want make any career ending comments at co-workers, and I just sort of withdraw and try to stay out of trouble. My dear wife and my close friends all keep an eye on me - thank goodness for that.
Anyway, if Trumps nukes Portland, Seattle or New York, the three cities he seems to hate the most, I won't be surprised.
Donnie’s problem, I’m sure, is that the ‘roofs and other mind altering drugs he’s taking for Covid is a huge shock on a body that never, ever did drugs before. Donnie, too, knows nothing about tripping.
So. Insane and tripping: gotta be a winner for getting re-elected.
Nice one, Roy.
I don’t know how everybody else here regards politics, but I try to balance my cynicism with an equal amount of vague optimism and cover it all with a liberal helping of (usually dark) humor. So when Trump was elected in 2016, after my initial despair passed I tried to convince myself it might not be SO bad.
But like it or not, we’ve ALL grown somewhat accustomed to Trump’s insanity and evilness in dribs and drabs and increments over the last four years. I thought about that last night while Trump was raving on twitter under the influence of god knows what drug cocktail, in the middle of a global pandemic and economic crisis, and I realized if you’d beamed quasi-hopeful me from November 2016 into the present I would have had an immediate and severe nervous breakdown. And although that thought gave me a good laugh, I also cannot WAIT for this shit to be over. I’m so fucking tired.
Can I sit next to you?
Absolutely. Join me on the “60% of the country says give him the hook, already, we’re dying here” bench.
And to think I was not sold on Roy's shtick that Donnie was some sort of druggie and now we have him (Donnie, not Roy) tripping balls on steroids.
Fiction tried to outdo reality and failed. Only Donnie could make that happen.
No doubt about it, Will Rogers *was* the best president!
Shoulda never gone to Alaska with that Willey Post guy. I mean, jeez, didn't he ever watch any of those Road Runner cartoons?
Extra-great piece.
But what I'm'a wondering about that maybe someone here can help me with: Who did Donnie's 'do while he was in Walter Reed?
Michael Cohen describes Trump doing it himself. Long rear hair flipped forward, then back, side hair combed over, hurricane of VO5. All to cover the scars from failed hair plugs. That scene alone will make the movie “Disloyal” worth the ameros.
Not sure. I thought I read somewhere that it’s like an hour long process.
Maybe the steroids were needed to give him the strength to wrangle his ‘do.
I am utterly baffled by his complete lack of self-awareness, his risible bridge-and-tunnel cluelessness: here's a guy for whom appearances are paramount, yet who looks pathetic, and has truly terrible, laughable taste in decor and other cultural signifiers. Perhaps that boy from Queens figured he'd never carry off the pose of a real Upper East Sider, so he decided to look like a mafia don from New Jersey instead.
Every Trump property I’ve been by or in has been hideous or worse. His esthetic is limited to shiny and golden (except for the brutalist protrusion on Manhattan’s upper east side).
He has no taste, was raised by people with no taste and is a moron, so taste cannot be expected from someone like that — and Donnie is proof.
For the first time I feel like I might actually survive long enough to see this production staged.
“Coke Spoon River Anthology”! Take THAT, Mr Masters!
(Just realized that people have been referring to him as Fat Nixon when actually he's Fat Coolidge.)
We’re well into the Decadron Dreams stage of Trump’s dumpster fire. When he comes down, and into the long-hauler phase of post-COVID debilitation, the level of Tweet whining should reach grounded-teen levels.
The idea that Trump thinks Jackson was "good" (because he killed Indians) but qualifies it "for his time" (because he didn't dye his hair) is so, so -- well I'd say funny but I think the word I want is "true."
[MILLER drags TRUMP to a new portrait at the end of the hall, which is of ADOLF HITLER.]
MILLER: Gaze upon it, sir! Your brother in Valhalla!
TRUMP: Holy fuck! My old man had one just like it! Oh, man, it gives me the old pep.
I'll bet Miller keeps a flag with a swastika on it in his office.
So I don't usually like to talk about my health issues but they seem germane to the post. I have sarcoidosis. It's not a really bad case and I manage it with low doses of steroids. Prednisone to be exact. However, sometimes I have to take large doses. Like when the smoke set in here in Oregon recently, I started having some breathing issues and my doctor bumped my dosage up to 40 milligrams per day. I then reduce the dosage every three days until I'm back to my normal dose of 5 milligrams a day, which is not much more than your body produces anyway.
Then I'm "normal".
You don't want me running anything when I'm on high doses of steroids. "Roid" rage is real. I'm edgy, angry, occasionally have thoughts of suicide and would punch any motherfucker who talks sideways at me without a hitch. Therefore, I go on sick leave - don't want make any career ending comments at co-workers, and I just sort of withdraw and try to stay out of trouble. My dear wife and my close friends all keep an eye on me - thank goodness for that.
Anyway, if Trumps nukes Portland, Seattle or New York, the three cities he seems to hate the most, I won't be surprised.
Duck and cover folks.
Donnie’s problem, I’m sure, is that the ‘roofs and other mind altering drugs he’s taking for Covid is a huge shock on a body that never, ever did drugs before. Donnie, too, knows nothing about tripping.
So. Insane and tripping: gotta be a winner for getting re-elected.