I’m Dreaming of a Trump-Free New Year
I’m finding it easier to tune out Trump and talking heads who speculate on his nonexistent future in politics, media, or even real estate. He’s barely functional now and it won’t get better once he’s a nobody. I’m relishing the prospect of Trump becoming a nomad. He’s burned his bridges to cinders in New York. Now Palm Beach doesn’t want him, either — according to a contract HE signed in 1993 when he converted Mar-a-Lago from a private home to a members-only club to make a buck.
The whole trampy family deserves not a square inch in this country to live, unless it’s a plot among the graves of the 300,000+ Trump has murdered so far with his COVID sabotage.
Perhaps Trump could buy a moldering plantation in the Deep South where he’s still beloved. He could hold rallies for his new neighbors, the poor folks he duped and screwed over, passing a hat to take their last dime for his bogus 2024 campaign.
Now that the Electoral College has made it final and Putin is warming up to Biden, we can stick a fork in the pompous, demented orange clown. He’s done.
Now I’m furious about the 126 traitors in Congress who signed on to that wacko failed lawsuit from Texas trying to negate four other states’ elections. Many of them STILL refuse to admit Trump lost. They’ve taken sedition to a whole new level and it shouldn’t go unpunished.
At a minimum, they have disqualified themselves from sitting in Congress, representing a government they seek to overthrow. Giving them jail terms for sedition would be gravy.
My Christmas wish is for Santa to bring our Democratic leaders spines so they will refuse to seat this bunch in January.
But we know Schumer and Pelosi will give us their default cop-out: “It’s time to move on.” Every time they let Republicans get away with breaking the law, a Trump cult member gets his wings.
The reason for their reluctance is obvious. If members of Congress start holding each other accountable, where does it end? Those who have served long enough to accumulate skeletons don’t want anyone pulling them out of the closet. Corruption didn’t start with Trump, and it didn’t end with Trump. He’s just leaving a fresh mountain of unindicted crime we’ll never move because the most senior members of Congress would get buried in the landslide.
It’s depressing. But at least we’ll be rid of Trump. And a rumor is circulating that Twitter may kick him off.
On the festivities front, it’s been quiet around here as I pull together our very little Christmas. My sister’s ginger cat Alfi and Roc were BFFs when they were kittens and had playdates at my parents’ house. Now, Alfi’s clearly dreaming about what Santa Kitty may leave him under the tree (and if any mice might live in those tiny houses)…
Tony loves the hell out of the old blue perch being on the balcony by the window. He spends most of his days there outside my office (which is preferable to him walking across my keyboard)…
In the evenings, Tony likes hanging out under the tree. Because I haven’t wrapped any presents to put under there yet, his new trick is going UNDER the tree skirt so he can make the bells jingle…
I also caught him carefully pulling one of the tree lights out of its socket, so there’s no telling how many of those he may eat before the new year.
The cats haven’t knocked the tree over yet, but last night I did catch Roc demonstrating for Tony how easy it is to climb it from the inside. It’s a miracle the branches held Roc’s 15 lbs. without detaching.
BONUS: Randy Rainbow gives us a new Christmas carol with “Rudolph the Leaky Lawyer”…