A weird thing that's occurred to me more than once: I have a very difficult time imagining Donald Trump laying down, shutting his eyes, turning off a bedside lamp and going to sleep for the night. I mean, I can PICTURE it, but the whole thing seems fucking preposterous.
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I imagine him, wide awake in silk pajamas, sitting in a White House recliner until a timer suddenly turns off every light in the room. And then he just sits there, seething in the dark, until the sun comes up.
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One thing is for certain: at some point the hair has to come down. So take those images of him getting ready for bed and compound it with whatever unholy nightmare he's hiding up top.
End of conversation
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Imagine being the aide/staffer who's job is to figure out which TV the president fell asleep in front of and gently scrape him up and quietly coach him to the Royal Bedchamber. Ugh.
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The President of the United States: https://youtu.be/X21R6tpeaJs
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Movie version: Craig T. Nelson IS President Donald Trump.
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Holy shit that's my dad. Excuse me while I go deal with this existential crisis.
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