While pacing an empty classroom after hours, door shut and blinds drawn, dictating a clumsy outline for why the movie “Overboard” (1987)- yes, “Overboard”- provides sufficient evidence for the success of a Trump/Sanders dream ticket, I can’t help but feel like I’m sneaking pop-rocks after brushing my teeth. I’m in too deep and I’m clapping wildly at show ponies. Dogs jumping through flaming hoops. Hot dogs and Easter candy. Junk food. Bullshit.
None of this means anything, but I can’t quit Donald Trump.
I’ve become a political junkie cheering for a puppet show. I want to see Ravishing Rick Rude with the WWF gold- taunting the fat, out of shape, low-T, liberal sweat hogs. I want the mere words “President Trump” to be a passive aggressive trigger striking rotten disdain into the hearts of all who oppose.
Now cut the music.