Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Hail to the Shitgibbon.

Against my better instincts, today I am delving into the political arena. More specifically I plan to talk about the 6'3" shitgibbon from Queens.

I've seen a lot of insults hurled at the man who grew up not far from my two NYC residences in Jackson Heights and Flushing, and shitgibbon is by far my favorite.

Also, and this needs to be stated, I'm not here to campaign for, or defend, or proselytize for Ms. Clinton, so you can spare me the comments and smack-talking. She strikes me as a politician. I don't have much heart for politicians, but at the very least she has the intellect for the position.

SG (shitgibbon) does not.

Along with countless other attributes one might expect in someone seeking the highest position in the land.

For me, his character defects are all the more glaring considering how he makes hay of his otherworldly business acumen. And has called himself America's favorite billionaire.

If I may paraphrase Lloyd Bensen, "I have shaken hands with America's favorite billionaires and I can tell you Sir Gibbon, you are not one of them."

Though I'm only 44 years old, I've had the pleasure of meeting several billionaires or, at the very least, multi-millionaire CEOs: Bob Iger (Disney), Tom Siebel (Siebel Systems), Elena Ford (Ford) and through one or two degrees of separation, Warren Buffet (Warren Buffet).

I'm not saying that in any kind of braggadocious manner. I'm just saying I've had personal contact with folks with bigly money.

Despite their varying wealth, stature and political leanings, these were people who carried themselves with a certain air. They spoke eloquently. They had a sense of who they were and their place in this world because they had a more than rudimentary knowledge of history, a sense of diplomacy, and a general abidance to play within the rules of the game.

In layman's terms, they had class and decency.

Shitgibbon, I'll use his formal name, has none.


Unfit for POTUS?

His vulgarian surliness makes him unfit for a clerical position at the DMV. That's a pretty low bar.

The man has no ability to restrain himself and pick his battles. Witness his recent 3 AM twitter bombs launched at a disgruntled former beauty queen. I could stroll into my local Starbucks and have a 100% chance of finding someone with a more suitable temperament.

"You, over-caffeinated guy with the wool knit cap and the shaky hands, working on that stupid screenplay you'll never sell, come over and put your right hand on the bible."

Our domestic problems are solvable and I have no doubt we can ride the ups and downs of poor infrastructure, unfair income distribution and social unrest.

But with the rise of Islamic terrorism, fluid superpower dynamics and escalating regional conflicts -- is anybody paying attention to Pakistan and India right this second? -- we are just a few bad decisions away from a total nuclear meltdown.

Do we want to trust the fate of the human race to a merkin-sporting, illiterate, billionaire shitgibbon whose fuse is even shorter than his tiny dick?

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