When it comes to guns and hunting, I'm no shrinking violet. I've been quail hunting with Nolan Ryan, and even with J.R. Ewing himself, the late Larry Hagman, and believe me it was way cool.
But the thing is this. The event was for charity, and we ate every quail we killed, which wasn't many. In fact, the caterer had to supplement the banquet that followed our hunt with store-bought birds.
The point is; hunting defenseless animals is okay if you're going to eat what you kill.
But anyone who hunts simply for the pleasure of stalking and murdering one of God's most spectacular and rare creations, just to have a trophy, is sick. And that's what we see in the spit-polished Trump boys, Eric and Donald, Jr.
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| Woot! Woot!Woot! Glad this crap is finally over. Now we can go shoot some big cats. And we don't even have to take our stinky sister. |
There's been a lot made of how wonderful The Donald's children are, and how he himself must be okay if they're so outstanding.
In math, they call it the 'transitive property'.
Okay, I'll buy it.
His adult sons' unusual need to kill big animals for fun bespeaks the family's pathology. They are sickos, and they are their father's sons. Therefore, he's a sicko. Transitive property.
So now we know what "down-to-earth" rich kids do for fun. Just like what every other red-blooded American fella out there does: goes on African safari and kills him some close-to-endangered species in a virtual shooting gallery. Noble.
If anyone thinks these two kids have a clue about what it's like to live like you, or can relate in any way to what you're going through, go ahead and vote for their dad. He's what you deserve.
I'm not drinking the Kool-Aid, and neither is any more than 35% of the American electorate-- including some very well-respected Republicans.
The 14 million votes that Donald Trump got in the primary will grow to no more than 24 million in the general election--a landslide thumping. And that's if he even makes it that far.
I'm betting he won't.
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