You elected a creepy, rapey, orangey deplorable as the 45th President of the U.S. who will gleefully wipe away President Obama’s legacy and escort our country straight to Hell.
You put your faith in a racist, sexist, ableist, homophobic, xenophobic, islamophobic cheeto with tattered tufts of possum fur plopped on his head to lead the free world.
You pushed Hillary down the stairs and voted for a Twitter fingery zillionaire who wears baggy public defender suits that belong in the darkest corner of Burlington Coat Factory.
No, seriously, this really happened. The “greatest country in the world” handed our mighty military and nuclear codes to a 70-year-old 5th grader without any political experience–on any level–whatsoever.
Trump is little Connor in Walmart who does spazzy snow angels on the floor when mommy doesn’t buy him a toy. At age 70. And it’s our ugly reality for the next four years orrrrr until he’s impeached or caught in bed with the enemy or suffers a massive heart attack mid-Twitter rant.
We’re trapped in the Twilight Zone with an Oompa Loompa-colored game show host-turned-“President” in the White House. This might be Hell and we don’t know it yet.
OK, so Hillary wasn’t your favorite choice for President. Cool. We all settle sometimes and she was the lesser of all evils. A Taco Bell at 2 am when you’re hungry. I’ll admit she’s shady and dances terribly (oh, and there’s that notorious crime bill) but she was clearly the best option to hold it down until Iyanla fixes Cory Booker’s life.
Millions refused to vote altogether (or wasted their vote on spooky Jill Stein or doofy Gary Johnson) and won’t really get it until Trump repeals Obamacare, unplugs their granny from her dialysis machine and throws her into the streets.
Right now, at this very moment, Trump is already the worst President in American history (with the worst cabinet ever) and he’s not even President yet.
His Vice President Mike Pence reportedly supported electric shock therapy to “cure” gay people. His top deplorable Steve Bannon spewed slimy hatred as Breitbart’s White Supremacist-in-Chief. His Attorney General pick Jeff Sessions was deemed too racist for a federal judgeship by a Senate Judiciary Committee in 1986.
Wait, there’s more: Trump’s pick for Urban Housing & Development Ben Carson chatted with a bear in the wild as if it were Winnie the Pooh asking for directions to the nearest honey pot.
The brilliant dummy (who knows nothing about housing or development) also turned down an earlier cabinet position because he lacked political experience even though he ran against Trump for President. No, that’s not bizarre, at all.
Trump’s future ex-wife Melania is somewhere plotting her escape after accidentally becoming First Lady. She just wanted to blow her billionaire sugar daddy’s money but now she actually has to do stuff and say things, out loud, in public. Oh nooo.
According to multiple reports, Trump is considering Mittens Romney and his crispy mom jeans for Secretary of State and picked wacko white lady in an Indian lady’s body Nikki Haley as U.N. Ambassador. Her mama named her Nimrata Randhawa so Imma call her Nimrata Randhawa.
Trump’s America might not scare jaded Americans or too-cool-to-care millennials who refused to vote but I’m nervous about 2017. Hate crimes are WAY up. Gun-hoarding rednecks with John Deere tattoos are fired up. My President is orange. This can’t be life.
It’s nearly impossible to be optimistic when I see our “President” arguing on Twitter like a 12-year-old Taylor Swift stan with hot pink braces.
Cops are still using unarmed Black youth as target practice. America cares more about dogs, killer whales and gorillas than Black lives. Real-life supervillain Sheriff David Clarke (who believes Black Lives Matter will join forces with ISIS) is under consideration for the Department of Homeland Security. Stressful.
At this point, I wouldn’t be shocked if Trump canceled Black history month, shut down HBCUs and banned Beyonce. All I can do is pray I’m not sold into slavery on the Cracker Barrel patio in 2017.
If you’re plotting on leaving Earth on President Obama’s last day, let me know. I’m serious. I have gas money, delicious snacks and make excellent playlists. I’ll even drive the spaceship if necessary. At this point, I’m open to living anywhere else in the universe that’s not America, the deplorable and I’m 100% sure I’m not alone.