The Donald, a nickname given to him by wife #1(the one buried at the New Jersey golf course (Bedminster, hole one) he owns, and converted to his wife’s cemetery for tax purposes, he has been found in contempt of court 10 times, plus he has violated several gag orders and was convicted of 34 felonies. In other words he likes to commit crimes and he can’t keep his mouth shut.
In 1984, the USSR boycotted the Summer Olympics that were held in Los Angeles, California, United States of America. In the fall of 1984, the Detroit Tigers played in the world series against the San Diego Padres. They won the best of 7 series in 5 games.
Also, in 1984, I started my journey through hell at the St. Damien Catholic elementary School, in Livonia, Michigan. The attempted indoctrination into the Catholic church did not work on me. However, an event that occurred at that school kept that year front of mind. Our principal made an announcement. He said the Detroit Tigers were in the World Series. Therefore, students are allowed to wear official Detroit Tigers memorabilia. They could wear it over our usual tie and button-up dress shirt.
I thought that was stupid, so I didn’t do it. In 1985, I turned 12 years old. My parents started leaving me at home to supervise my brother. He was five to six years younger than I was, which is five and a half. They did this on our days off from school. It was a Catholic school, so there were many days off. I don’t think that I did a very good job. I spent more time watching talk shows than watching him. However, he never did get injured, seriously, and, hopefully, my being there made him a touch smarter.
On those talk shows, it (it being Donald Trump) would show up to spill it’s word salad full of superlatives. Some shows, it was invited, some shows, it would just show up. I had no respect for this piece of shit when I was 12. Now, at fifty, I am smarter, wiser, and more experienced. My respect for it is even less, if any exists at all.
One reason Catholic school was a journey through hell was my peers (friends) asking me questions. They would ask, “why does your brother act like a fag?” To which I would respond, “I don’t know, why do you?” I was in fifth grade. He was in first grade. I was fat, and he was skinny. Continuously, he put his shoes on the wrong feet. His feet didn’t have the curve to be able to distinguish between left and right.
Through high school, I thought his being gay was my fault. I believed that I caused it. Fortunately, I met a whore, ten to fifteen years older than myself, and we had a conversation about our siblings. She has a sister that I knew. I liked her more. She too was also a whore, but that is neither here nor there. The only reason that I am using the word “whore” is to express that they’re more sexually proficient than myself.