(cross-posted from Rooting for Rouda)
... if I may be excused for restoring to what, these days, may be interpreted as a misogynist stereotype. (It was actually coined in the late 17th/early 18th century by my fellow-countryman, the satirical playwright William Congreve).
Well, anyway, it seems that Tr*mp is finally confronted by a person as narcissistic, as ruthless, as implacable, as insatiable of media attention and personal adoration, and as lacking in decency and human compassion as himself.
Will the redoubtable Omarosa bring him down to size, where others--including all those craven Republicans in Congress--have notably shirked this urgently necessary task?
The great irony, of course, is that she is his own creation, made after his own image. Perhaps this monster will succeed in exposing the arrogant presumption of our Dr. Frankenstein. Perhaps the mob of angry, terrified villagers will turn tail, and show up with their pitchforks, shrieking at the White House gates.
We'll see.
Meantime, we last defenders of sanity and truth must show up at the polls and vote for Harley Rouda in November. Am I right? Will you bring your friends?
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