Don’t wait, call eight-eight-eight imp-each

Here’s a business-man who won a national election. And here he is marketing himself as the next glorious United States President. Here he is as vendor selling tickets to a New Year’s Eve blowout he’s throwing at his own headquarters. Here he is, marketer and merchant, selling access to his own private event at his own business, at his own residence, where he lives. For five hundred bucks.

Mar-a-Lago, the pricey private resort in Palm Beach, Florida, sold hundreds of tickets at more than $500 a piece to an annual New Year’s Eve extravaganza planned for Saturday night that will feature a very special guest: the president-elect of the United States of America and his family.

Pity our poor Donald, he doesn’t know this is all wrong. He doesn’t know this will get him impeached. He doesn’t understand this is all legally forbidden and totally disgusting. He will soon be shocked to find himself a constitutional scofflaw, and a total dick, and a national disgrace. He doesn’t understand that he’s now got a job with actual rules and requirements.

So he will break the law without a shred of remorse. And he will pooh-pooh the Constitution over and over again. And we will react by being somewhat compelled to question him politely, or scold him somewhat, and eventually do everything we can over the next eight years to beg him please do not be a douche. Because we are all suckers and totally pathetic and altogether too nice. Because we are a bunch of losers, for sure. So we will do our best.

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