We loose.  No doubt.  The Closed Minded, Racist, win.   I guess I shouldn't be surprised.  My kind should have been extinct by now.   One really has to wonder how we got this far.  I've never been good at making money.   Shit, when I was twenty-five I was the victim of a car accident and didn't sue.  I remember when the at-fault driver's mom called me.   I could tell in her voice she knew she had a sucker leaving money on the table.  "I'm glad to be alive," I said.  And I was, for during the car accident as my beat-up VW Bug was ramming the car that had run the red light (by the Police Officer's Report), I felt an Angel grab me from behind my shoulders and whisper:  "It's going to be alright."

When I woke up from the totaled-out car accident, I was laid-out on the ground a few feet from the car not knowing how I got out alive.  It was all surreal and somehow my fault, I was sure.

I refused the ambulance and had the police drop me off at the hospital (they did things like that back in 1984).  

Anyway, I never sued.   And of course, I never got ahead in life either.

I won't bore you with all the details, but, I'm a passive, non-aggressive guy.   Over the years I've had business partners screw me on film deals where they found a way to justify not giving me my share of the profits.  You know, distribution cost or who knows what.  Most recently,  I found out for the last ten years I've been paying for the common-area electricity for my condos due to a wiring mishap.

"That's okay," I said, "Just fix it."

I guess I'm just lazy.

Anyway, I wrote a poem for Donald Trump.  Here it goes:

Donald Trump is a chump.
He has a big-fat rump.
Every time he turns around.
We all get dumped,
on.


Sensor that Steven Bannon

racist chickn