Barry’s farewell and The Don’s big debut

So last night our increasingly irrelevant petulant man-child cult leader president gave his swan song to an adoring crowd of followers and the media (but I repeat myself), heralding the impending end of this nightmare and the kickoff of what appears to be Barryfest 2017, wherein we are subjected for the final week and change of this disastrous administration to listening to his worshipers sing his praises to the rafters.  Listening to them prattle about his “popularity” (brought to you by the same polls that said Hillary would win in a landslide) is sickening.  Enduring their nonsense about how he was so decent and scandal-free leaves one wondering whether to burst out laughing or vomit (or reflexively start rattling off the list of both his petty, childish actions and still-unresolved scandals).  Still, watching their tears and wails of “will I ever stop crying?” has a sweetness all its own.

Of course I didn’t watch this idiocy.  I’ve been waiting eight long years to ignore this speech, and considering the dawn on the horizon I’m almost willing to say it was worth it.  Almost.

Then today our President-elect gave a press conference as a hard rebuttal to the fairy tale lies spread by BuzzFeed and CNN, and in no uncertain terms let lots of the assembled press have it with both barrels.  He reduced CNN’s Jim Acosta to blubbering as he told the feckless reporter to stop being rude, he wasn’t getting a question, his organization was fake news and spread lies so no, you don’t get respected today.  It was beautiful.  Finally, someone fights back.  I have thought for a long time, even back when I was still 100% in Ted Cruz’s corner, that if Trump won the election, we’d be in store for the most fun four years in a long, long time.  Boy howdy was I ever right.

Trump even seems to have thrown a wrench into Barryfest, though it appears the cult will not be so easily thwarted.  News specials and parties still continue on as sure as Code Pink will send adults to confirmation hearings dressed up in ways that would make four-year-old princess-imitating girls at a tea party tell them to dial it back a few notches.  As for me, I have but one thing to say to dear leader on the eve of his departure:



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