12/5/18: The funeral of George H. W. Bush proves to be a tribute to a man who fought and nearly died for his country, a fine family man, a compassionate conservative, always a gentleman.
By comparison, albeit unspoken, in the front row sat the Big
Orange Buffoon. The Bush family had to promise beforehand that no one would
take shots at Trump in their eulogies. Otherwise, Trump wouldn’t come.
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George H. W. Bush, pilot during World War II. |
I, for one, found myself pondering who might speak well of Trump at his funeral someday. His first two wives? The Playboy Bunny he was boinking while Melania was pregnant and caring for Barron, their baby boy?
Any of a wide variety of former aides, now convicted felons?
Perhaps, when Trump finally waddles over the rainbow, his tax
accountant will reveal the secrets of how he avoided paying a single dollar,
most years, to support the government he would one day lead. An X-ray of his
bad foot might be displayed, the foot that kept Trump from serving in Vietnam.
We would finally know which foot it was since Donald J. could never remember. His children might cite wisdom he passed along
in tweets. Sarah Sanders might wander up to the podium and start lying out of
habit, pointing out how mean the press always was to her boss – what with
reporting on all the stupid sh*t he said and did and did and said.
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