Wednesday, January 4, 2017

His Problems Are Now Our Problems. All Of Them.

Let's start with something simple: that blue suit that he's been wearing since last summer--seemingly without having it cleaned or pressed.

Guy who purports to be soooooo RICH and he can't afford a suit that fits better? Sure.

Just because you're a bloated, flabby, gaseous toad doesn't mean you can't find a good tailor.

Billionaires don't generally dress like door to door toupee salesmen. Real billionaires, that is. Even those creepy Silicon Valley libertarian twats can pull together a respectable look.

While we're talking about The Orange One's Wealth, how many other "billionaires" can you think of who plaster their name on nickel and dime items? Steaks? Neckties from China? Christmas ornaments? New Year's Eve parties? Really?

And how come no major American banks will lend to him? Cuz he's such a "successful" negotiator?

All those foreign "lenders" that Big Boy has had to rely on to stay afloat--Deutsche Bank, the Chinese, Russian Mafia, whatever--will want something in return for their silence about Der Trumps' real financial situation.

To say the least, it will be very strange to have a President in hock to so many foreigners.

Now that the entrepreneurial triumph known as Trump University has been sent to history's ash bin, what about all those other lawsuits, 30 or so, wasn't it, that he still needs to deal with?  Probably all groundless, nuisance suits, huh?

Then there's his attention span, or rather his attention deficit disorder.

There might be, and admittedly I'm guessing here, but there might be a few issues that come up that require more than a ungrammatical, misspelled tweet to deal with. (You'd think someone with such a big, good brain would be better at something tweens master in a morning.)


Finally, when Big Boy dies--sooner rather than later, one hopes--who's getting stuck with all that debt he's so proudly accumulated?  I'm guessing Tiffany.

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