The Grand Old Party

In the aftermath of the 2020 Presidential Election, I miss Florida’s place in the sun but first, allow me to congratulate our new president, Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. Has a ring to it, no? His lovely wife Jill. Splendid. Donald Trump would highlight his son Hunter but I’ll think of Beau. I’ll think of first dog Major. And the new cat! Oh, and he’s 78 fucking years old. At the risk of being canceled due to Ageism, that’s just too damn old to be the President of the United States. I argue that Ronnie Reagan and Donnie Trump prove it: it’s not a job for old people, regardless of the hair dye and the many, many lies. Joe had no choice in the matter, however, practically drafted by the American people to step up and DO SOMETHING about Trump’s insanity, but he did always want to be president. The late Donald Trump, not as in dead, just as in he won’t leave the White House, is as lame as any duck in history but I choose now to ‘turn a corner’ and NOT enumerate his ridiculous to sublime losses and mishaps since Trump woke to the news on November 4th that the election results were not in his favor, they were in his disfavor, in fact, to the tune of SEVEN MILLION votes.