Dear President Trump, Let’s get real here, shall we? You didn’t wear the face mask in the Ford plant today because you didn’t want to have lines of white, un-Cheeto’d, skin showing when you took the mask off. Given that you had to make a speech and would have had to temporarily remove the mask … Continue reading un-Cheeto lines in the sand
Dear President Trump, Happy May Day. Happy International Workers’ Day. Happy (I guess….. not) First Day of the Fourth Month of Life As We Knew It No Longer Existing. And here we are. The stooped woman wearing the same brown corduroy pants and turquoise coat she wears every day is walking her (very) elderly chocolate … Continue reading Mayday, mayday!
Dear President Trump, I’ve got two things on my mind this morning, both of which are follow-ons from letters earlier in the week. The first has to do with whether the king-makers have drawn any lines in the sand that you aren’t supposed to cross or if the point is for you to sow maximal … Continue reading Two things