Today is as bleak as an empty cup of coffee. They tell me that the numbers don’t lie. They say that to appease the stunned silent…and yes, I know what I did there. Not today grammarians. Not today.
The optimist in me left somewhere in the wee hours of the morning, right around the time the electoral college shat red numbers all over common sense, hope, sanity and balance.
There is no solace in knowing that the very same who voted for Donald Trump will find out soon enough that they are not the right kind of American.
I believe one Trump-lovin’ woman found out already. On stage, the president-elect shook hands with his male supporters and added a hug and kiss to the women. Well that is all except one. He stopped short of her and I watched her expectancy of the same treatment fall to the floor. Left hanging for a freaking handshake and thank-you kiss on the cheek. She had to go to him for that air kiss…right, Omarosa?
I have no passes to give to anyone who voted for Donald Trump. You clearly don’t care about anyone else except your own. Just don’t cry “it takes a village!” when realization hits and cross your fingers there’s room in a sanctuary district for you.