He's a Fucking Monster

Been doing a lot of reading lately. 

That's a good thing. But I'm afraid it's also by default since we find ourselves in that strange vacuous period between sports seasons. The NBA basketball season ended, spectacularly, and now I have to wait for football. 

I know I could watch baseball, but mid-season games are a yawn and a half. Wake me up when the pennant races -- are they still called that -- are drawing to a close.

I could entertain myself with the Olympics, but without fans and without a guide to the events, I could find myself watching plate spinning or horse grooming until something interesting comes on. I can list on one hand the events I might have a slight taste for: 100m dash, the 50m freestyle swim, the pole vault and the shot put. 

Due to my unusual girthiness and squatty build I had a natural affinity for shot put in high school. And you know how high school girls are drawn to shot putters.

In any case, I plowed through Michael Wolff's expose of the sordid adventures of the White House during 2020 and into 2021. I now have bandaids on the tips of my fingers from turning the pages so quickly. The book is chock full of jaw-dropping event after another.

You'd think by now I would have had enough of this stuff. I know my wife and daughters are dog tired of hearing me ranting about the house with...

"And then Pompeo did this."

"Then Rudy says let's just say we won."

"Tell them to stop counting the votes. Tell them I said so"

It took me two nights to polish off the 300 page opus. And I'm not a fast reader by any means. But let's be honest, while Wolff can turn a phrase, he writes in a lightweight tabloid style that is more suited to the NY Daily News or the Trump proxy-owned National Enquirer.

I brought the book with us on our camping trip last week and handed it off to my buddy Paul, a school teacher. Despite the two mojitos and a Sour Watermelon gummy (available only to persons 21 years or older) he blasted through the numerous escapades in a single 95 degree afternoon. 

By the end of today I will have finished off I Alone Can Fix This, a 500+ page shot put of a book, written by Pulitzer Prize winning authors Carol Leonnig and Philip Rucker. This is far more meaty expose of what could have been the last year for American Democracy.

But again, no less jaw-dropping.

In fact, in light of the fact that I'll be orthopedic surgery today, getting my new hip, I may ask the doc to reinforce the tenuous connection my lower mandible now has with my skull.

Fuck Trump!!!