My support for Trump began probably like yours did.
Similar to so many other Americans, I was tired of the rhetoric in Washington.
Many other Americans were tired of not eating.
In 2015, I fell in love with the idea of the protest candidate who was not bought by corporations. A man who sat in a Manhattan high-rise he had built, making waves as a straight talker with a business background, full of successes and failures, who wanted America to return to greatness.
I was sold.
Like a goddamn Easter ham.
I began realizing the man really resonates with the masses and would bring people to the process who had never participated before.
For example, a guy dressed up in a Trump Wall unitard.
It wasn’t long before every day I awoke to a buzzing phone and a shaking head because Trump had said something politically incorrect the night before. I have been around politics long enough to know that the other side will pounce on any and every opportunity to smear a candidate.
Particularly using his own words, and some kind of a recording device.
I’ll say it again: Trump never intended to be the candidate. But his pride is too out of control to stop him now.
So he’s helpless in the face of it? Boyfriend is an adult. Stop letting these people off the hook.
I, too, think our country has gone off track in its values. I, too, think that we need a dramatic change of course. But I am, in my heart, a policy wonk and a believer in coming to the table with necessary knowledge for leading the free world.
Which is why I signed on to do press for a guy who managed to fuck up selling meat.
Trump made me believe. Until I woke up.
Fuck her, okay, for having any part in Trump’s situation at all, but I gotta say, at least she’s doing this now, before the election. George W. Bush’s people all waited until he was out of office and OH YEAH THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE WERE DEAD before they were like, “I said all along that guy was a fuckup, okay?”