Curb Your Candidate

 Creative Commons Licensed Image "Donald Trump - Riding the Wrecking Ball" by Donkey Hotey. Some rights reserved.

The other day I attended a rally for the presumptive Republican nominee in Vegas through the miracle of cable network news, which so rarely takes us to his live events as “BREAKING NEWS.” (Insert laugh track here) My excuse was wanting to see the progress he was making in becoming more presidential.

I gave the performance four barf bags (the highest rating on the coveted vomitorium index).

But the crowd was very enthusiastic.

It felt like attending a White Citizens Council meeting with our Six Billion Dollar Man warming up the audience for David Duke, an early endorser who might show up to award him the 2016 brotherhood award (a tailored white muslin sheet).

Not only was the Republican Party’s favorite candidate doing his usual new- Muslims- not-welcome-here rap, but he was going after dangerous second and third generation citizens. This was solving the problem by pouring oil on the fire. It should win him the rights to establish the first golf course in the Caliphate, in return for all the harm he’s doing in getting area Muslims to join he fight against ISIS.

He did not seem drastically interested in improving his presidential persona later that week, either, by doing a teleprompter speech about Hillary being a “world class liar.” He should know, having retired the World Class Liar trophy –the so-called Pinocchio Cup – by delivering big fat lies continuously since the Birther Crisis of 2011.

Then he ramped up his presidential creds by jetting off to bonnie Scotland in the midst of the campaign. Instead of showing his solidarity with Republican troops in the trenches fighting the Occupy the House crowd over the gun bills, he was embellishing his foreign policy skills by finding out why his Aberdeen golf course was losing $6.3 million since he bought it.

I mean, how presidential can you get?

While he was at it, he fired his brilliant campaign manager.

His rich friends were turning down invitations to fund his campaign.

Not to worry! He will fund the campaign himself. He’s rich.

Oy vey. Lock up Fort Knox, if he’s elected, and throw away the key.

The word was spreading the Six Billion Dollar Man, by his own accounting, had been amassing his fortune by failing to pay painters, waiters, plumbers, electricians and others he stiffed on the yellow brick road.

It now turns out the goniff, who bragged about using his own money to pay his primary campaign expenses—he didn’t need lobbyists and other vested interests-- mostly was paid out to companies and services he owned (for example, Mar-a-largo billed for press conference rental, air travel on his company jet). That’s a win- win.

The most amazing thing that happened this past week as the presumptive candidate continues changing into his presidential duds is that the natives are starting to get restless. Apparently, there are a lot of unhappy campers in the party’s higher ranks.

The Rip van Winkle wing of the party, asleep for the last 100 weeks of the campaign, was having an epiphany.

His comments about a federal judge coincidentally sitting in a law suit against the prestigious Trump University for gypping students; congratulating himself over predicting the mass slaughter in Orlando, insinuating the nation’s Muslims and the president were co-conspirators in domestic terrorist plots…

Well, something was amiss.

70 percent of the voters already were saying they dislike the presumptive candidate. And they haven’t heard anything yet as the candidate throws another Muslim on the fires of hate and distrust in the republic and the laws by which it stands, so help us…

Our presumptive nominee may turn out to be the most corrupt, dangerous, dishonest, disreputable, meretricious, untrustworthy carpet-bagger of a candidate since the Republicans robbed the country blind during the Grant administration of 1868.

Something has to be done! The Van Winkle wing of the party is finally waking up to a reality: We can lose big with the loser we selected.

It’s time to curb our dog of a candidate.

Quick!

But how?

I will tell you how we can still Dump Trump in the second part of this three-part emergency series of epistles on the last days of the Republican Party (R.I.P.)

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Marvin Kitman
June 25, 2016