Treasonous Tittyknacker!

The mother of a dear friend of mine is a narcissist.

She’s told me much about her childhood, what it was like growing up with a mother who, through word and deed, took every opportunity not only let her daughter know she was unloved and unwanted but fervently hated. A refrain my friend heard often was “I wish I’d aborted you!” or “I wish you were dead!” When she was small, about 7 or 8, a major fire broke out in the apartment building where she and her mother lived. She had been asleep and was awakened by a fireman who carried her to safety. After leaving the building, the fireman asked the crowd standing nearby where her parents were. HER MOTHER DID NOT SPEAK UP. Eventually, she was claimed by one of their neighbors. I don’t think it can be more obvious that my friend’s mother wanted her to die in that fire. And, my friend said, her mother had been mightily pissed off that she hadn’t.

There were other incidents. When she was a teen, my friend had gone shopping with some of her friends and bought a trendy outfit for a party she was attending that night. After dropping off her purchase at the apartment she shared with her mother, my friend went back out. She returned home to get ready for the party and found the clothes she’d bought that afternoon had been cut to ribbons. When she asked her mother why she’d done this, her mother had just smiled. Then there was the time when my friend was in college. She’d been in an upstairs bathroom putting the finishing touches on her makeup before heading downstairs to the party her mother was giving that night. Her mother walked up behind her and without warning grabbed a wooden-handled brush and began beating her with it. After the thrashing, her mother walked away without a word. My friend couldn’t duck the party, so she covered the welts on her face with makeup the best she could and joined the fun.

And there was so much more. Horrible stuff. It’s a wonder my friend survived–physically and mentally.

Which brings me to 45, that treasonous tittyknacker (gotta love the Brits). I’ve been checking out the news reports of his trip to England. Sometimes I still can’t believe he’s really that delusional. In London, protestors filled the streets. There was a giant orange balloon baby flying around. There was an effigy of 45 sitting on a golden toilet tweeting. Yet he “didn’t see any protestors.” He said the people in the streets were cheering for him. He had a “warm welcome” from the royal family, which I presume includes William and Harry who refused photo ops with him. The Queen walked with him because she had to do it. She gave 45 one of Winston Churchill’s books. Think he’ll read it? Don’t think so. He’ll probably use the pages for toilet paper. He makes an ass of himself with his D-Day speech. Instead of honoring the heroes who fought and died to defeat the greatest evil of the 20th century, he takes the opportunity to praise himself and trash Nancy Pelosi and Robert Mueller. It’s painfully obvious to the world that he’s an idiot, and an uneducated idiot at that. 45 is totally incapable of seeing how everyone is laughing at him and at America. And all of his speeches, whether at home or abroad, are nothing but lies. I can’t remember his name, but the lawyer 45 had before Guliani (also a piece of work) said he quit because “the man is incapable of telling the truth.” Gawd.

Watching and listening to 45, I know just how the duck in the AFLAC commercial feels when listening to Yogi Berra.

Check it out.

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