No forgiveness can save Trump’s terrible Thanksgiving



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I hereby thank that as of January 20, 2021, the only stories I will read with Trump’s name in the title will be the cheesy stories about his bankruptcy or divorce, his depositions and his tax returns (when this audit will finally be finished, which I guess will be soon), and any tabloid speculating on whether Ivanka will go to the Met Gala or jail, or go into exile in the Xanadu that she and Jared are building at the club in Trump golf course in Bedminster, New Jersey with four new pickleball courts, a relocated helipad, spa and yoga complex, and an expanded “cottage” comparable to the golden mansion they will leave behind in Washington.

I won’t be tempted by stories about Trump descendants running for office, because there won’t be any.

For those who fear they will never get rid of Trump, watch as he shrinks before our eyes in a minute in Washington from leader of the free world to a broken real estate developer to ears in debt. On Monday, Trump was just another 74-year-old tramp who drove around the golf course in a motorized cart, wondering how long it would be before his next cheeseburger.

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