Dear Donald

Dear Donald Trump,

Congratulations on winning the election! It must be such a relief. Now that it’s over you don’t have to pretend you’re pro-life or religious or that you give a damn about building a wall at the Mexican border.

Maybe you can get the religious Republicans who voted for you to be pro-choice too! Here’s how. You tell them that when abortions are illegal, more unwanted children get born. And unwanted children end up being costly to the taxpayer. Most of the time, their parents can’t afford them. They’re a burden on welfare, food stamps, the school system. Then by the time they’re old enough to be productive members of society, they’re more likely than wanted children to be committing crimes instead. That means they’re costing the taxpayer in cop salaries, court time, prison accommodations. None of your base likes to pay for welfare, food stamps, schools, public housing or prison. All of that is costlier than just offering free and widely available contraception /¬†abortion services.

It goes against their morality? Well, you tell them that these folks don’t live by the same set of moral standards they do anyway. Why would they want their tax dollars to go towards services for these people to continue reproducing? Why fund their immorality?

Speaking of religious convictions, you’re secretly an atheist, aren’t you? Oh, all right. You’re not. I’ve known people like you. You don’t even think about all of that spiritual, metaphysical mumbo-jumbo. Waste of your time. Maybe that’s something you can spread to your voter base too! Here’s how. Show them all your glorious business winnings. Your apartment in NYC, your piles of money, your illustrious orange.. err.. I mean… golden hotels soaring skyward. You’re a winner. Everyone wants to be a winner like you. They want to be just like you and guess what? You’re too smart to believe in god. You have better things to do. You got this far without a god — maybe they could get where they want to go too if they’d ditch that dead weight. What a waste of time, religion. Right?

Because once you’ve gotten them to let go of their Christian god, you know what? You can be their god. I’ll say it again. You, dear Donald, can be their GOD. It’s one thing to be a winner. That’s cool and that’s great, but lots of people are winners. How many people are gods? Just think of the glory. You’ll be the bigliest, winningest winner of them all.

Oh, but if you’re they’re god then you have to take care of them. They’re like your little children. And I know you love children, you have so many and they’re great. I heard that you liked some parts of Obamacare: that’s a great start! Also, did you know that the United States government currently pays 2nd most per capita in the entire world for health care? That’s not including what companies pay for their employees or out of pocket costs for individuals. Just government spending. That’s a terrible deal. We are getting a terrible deal on health care. It’s because we aren’t bargaining with¬†drug manufacturers, care providers, hospitals. But when you’re the god of all your voters and you want to take care of them and make sure they’re in good health, you can change all that. You can do all the negotiating and make sure our government doesn’t get ripped off. You’ll make the best deal. We’ll get health care like Sweden has for a fraction of the cost. Everyone will have health care. I have faith in you.

Okay, that’s enough talking, you’ve done a good job reading all this. Have you a nice Big Mac now. And remember: you’re gonna be these people’s god. You have to take care of them.

Exotic dancer

Why is it a common euphemism for “stripper”?

“Exotic dancer” makes me think of people wearing masks like this, loincloths and stomping around a bonfire, hooting and hollering. What’s exotic about a girl with too much makeup, fake boobs and dyed hair taking off her clothes? That sounds very run-of-the-mill. American as apple pie. Un-exotic. Stripperly.

Not that I’m down on stripperly things. If men want to ogle and grope, the least they can do is pay for the privilege. I doubt there are many jobs that pay as well per hour and don’t even require a high school degree. Power to strippers.

Lap Desk in Vegas

Today, a co-worker asked if there were any spare lap desks. Then he quipped “I guess I’ll have to go to Vegas to get one.”

All the boys, less naive than I, chuckled. Meanwhile, I imagined him wandering around a Costco sized warehouse full of thousands of different kinds of lap desks. A wonderland of different colors, sizes, shapes, consistencies, materials…

Eyes widening, I asked “Is there really such a place to buy lap desks in Vegas? I want to go!”

It turns out it was a pun. About lap dances. herpderp.