I don’t think people caught the slogan correctly. It’s “Make America GREAT Again.” Grrrrr-8. Great. Not Hhhhhh-8. Hate. Grrrrr-ate. Actually, America is starting to grate on my nerves, so if there was ever a time in history when America grated on people, Trump’s made it grate again.
But you know what the real problem with America is? People who hate Trump. Hate, hate, haaaaate Trump.
You know what else the problem with America is? People who love Trump. Love, love, looooove Trump.
You know what else the problem with America is? People who love Obama. Love, love, looooove Obama.
You know what else the problem with America is? People who hate Obama. Hate, hate, haaaaate Obama.
You know what else the problem with America is? Greta Van Fleet. Has anybody seen them and Led Zeppelin in the same room? I didn’t think so.
You know what else the problem with America is? People who point out the problems with America.
You know what else the problem with America is? Media that act as a magnifying glass focusing intense attention on a cow patty, causing it to ignite, then media coverage fuels the fire to five-alarm status. And, of course, media arsonists are the first responders. If idiots stage a rally and there are no cameras to cover it, do the idiots make a sound?
You know what else the problem with America is? Almond milk.
You know what else the problem with America is? Politicians who are elected based on their campaign promises (say, a mayor who proclaims he won’t raise taxes) then proceed to do the opposite of what they promised. By the way, what’s up with El Paso’s recent trend of electing rich guys for mayor? At some point I’m pretty sure Mark Cuban and Slim Shady or whatever that Mexican zillionaire’s name is will be our mayor.
You know what else the problem with America is? Liquor superstores filled with enough alcohol at cheap prices to give the entire Universe a month long hangover. Twice. Wait, that’s what’s great about America.
Speaking of…Neighborhood status as of the dog walk which just took place after writing that last sentence: One house condemned, one needs to be, one neighbor is playing Elvis loud enough for Elvis to hear it, one is painting his house bright blue, two dogs jumped on top on their rock wall and barked menacingly and the new store that recently opened a few blocks away making it the closest convenience store to our house has a young couple and toddler in matching Laker’s jerseys attached to three sweepstakes slot machines in a corner and bongs and condoms at the impulse buy spot near the register. Cashier: “Is that it?” Customer: “Yeah, just the diapers. Wait, I’ll take that orange crack pipe and a Mini-Me condom. Damn, I’m glad you had those right next to the register!” I think the store’s named Crackpipes and Condoms. And Diapers. That last part is probably why the condoms are by the cash register.
I’m old enough to have lived through some dark episodes in America’s history, like when everyone had big hair and wore Member’s Only jackets and drove K cars or when Will Farrell was making movies and P Diddy couldn’t decide what to call himself. Those times don’t seem so bad now. Well, maybe they do but protests and rallies didn’t turn into riots because everyone just felt embarrassed wearing their Member’s Only jacket while driving their K car to the rally or stupid spending $8 on a Will Farrell movie. Maybe they should’ve been protesting bad taste and lousy cars. Or maybe everyone attending a protest nowadays should be forced to put on Member’s Only jackets. It may be a panacea to the violence.
In lieu of bringing back Member’s Only jackets, I’m starting a company called Riot Gear that sells rally, protest and riot essentials like bricks, Molotov cocktails, clubs, bottles of urine, white hoods, black scarves, tasteful shirts and signs with catchy phrases like ‘THIS GUY’S AN IDIOT!’ and ‘NO I’M NOT, HE IS!’ I’m also writing a book titled 101 Protest Chants for Any Occasion because whipping out “Hey, hey, ho, ho, blah, blah, blah has got to go” is like flashing a not well endowed collective IQ. No one has ever accused protesters of being witty, which makes me think we should protest witless protesters. Anyways, if you can’t beat ‘em, make a buck off ‘em. And that’s not a problem with America.
Now it’s time to run out to the nearest liquor superstore and make America great again. Before it grates, again.