Our health care premiums are going through the roof.
The same money that bought a week’s worth of groceries when Trump took office will now feed your family through Thursday.
Food banks are begging for donations because they don’t have enough food for all the people who are showing up.
Troops are in our cities. The wrecking crew tore down our White House. Bribes are flowing in. Billionaires are raiding the national treasury. Corruption is wide open. Lies flow like wine.
And We the People are getting poorer, more afraid, and less free with every passing day.
The man responsible for all this — the guy who, along with his stooge Republicans in Congress, is fighting tooth and nail to cut off health care for millions of Americans — threw himself a little soiree last weekend. It was, as my granny used to say, a dilly.
I’m old enough to remember when Jackie Kennedy invited Pablo Casals to play at the White House.
I also remember when John Travolta danced with Princess Diana in what — dare I say it — sure looks like a ball room to me. Too bad Trump tore it down.
I remember when every president we elected tried to represent the best of this nation in his entertainments.
All I can say is, if the party Trump threw last weekend for himself and his swaggering bunch of billionaire buddies is our best, we have sunk way down low from what we used to be.
The primary “entertainment” was near-naked show girls waving fans and exhibiting their bodies in a strutting “dance” …
… while other near-naked girls gyrated in other dances
… and yet another almost naked girl sat in a giant champagne glass and kicked her legs and shook her breasts.
Trump’s whore clergy love to describe him as the Biblical King Cyrus. Personally, I think Trump’s a lot more like Herod.
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