I had an agreement with some friends to charter a jet and head to the islands to celebrate if he either got perp walked out of the White House or died in office, to just really go nuts celebrating.
I say we give Trump his own television channel. Nothing on the channel but him and his 6x8,23/7. Can you imagine? Apart from one hour a day while he’s alone in the yard (other than his Secret Service agents), you could flip to Lockup: Trump Edition and just feel sooooo much better.
I would watch the fuck out of that. For a week or two. Then I’d get bored. So would everyone else. And we’d all stop watching by and large…“The Donald” fading into obscurity, withering away behind bars…no cell phone to tweet angrily on, no hamberders or well done steaks with ketchup, no visitors…not even his own kids. His ego deflating day by day, having to shit on a non-gilded toilet in full view of the guards, a cell full of books that he can’t read. Then, one day, the channel ceases to exist, but no one notices. And, unaware if he is even alive or dead, we all collectively forget he exists and stop talking about him forever.
If Trump got the same treatment as Navalny, the normal people of the world would be celebrating right now.
Maybe they should send Trump to a Sibirian Gulag. Maybe the cold will clear the fog in his brain.
I had an agreement with some friends to charter a jet and head to the islands to celebrate if he either got perp walked out of the White House or died in office, to just really go nuts celebrating.
I say we give Trump his own television channel. Nothing on the channel but him and his 6x8, 23/7. Can you imagine? Apart from one hour a day while he’s alone in the yard (other than his Secret Service agents), you could flip to Lockup: Trump Edition and just feel sooooo much better.
I would watch the fuck out of that. For a week or two. Then I’d get bored. So would everyone else. And we’d all stop watching by and large…“The Donald” fading into obscurity, withering away behind bars…no cell phone to tweet angrily on, no hamberders or well done steaks with ketchup, no visitors…not even his own kids. His ego deflating day by day, having to shit on a non-gilded toilet in full view of the guards, a cell full of books that he can’t read. Then, one day, the channel ceases to exist, but no one notices. And, unaware if he is even alive or dead, we all collectively forget he exists and stop talking about him forever.