“I’m Donald Trump, and I’m a love addict.”

That’s how Trump should start each speech he’s making on his current Victory Tour.

Like any addict, he needs to admit his powerlessness over his never-ending need for adoration. To get honest about his compulsion to say whatever gets the loudest cheer from the biggest crowd (which got him elected). To come clean about his soul-twisting compulsion for sending midnight tweets about how Alec Baldwin’s impression of him “can’t get any worse” on the “unwatchable” Saturday Night Live. While he’s watching it.


Um, not that I know anything about that. About seeking affirmation . . . or lingering on FB for “just one more” like. Trying to fill the hole left open by well-intentioned parents who could have praised a little girl in addition to “helpfully” pointing out the problems. Staying in a relationship (or two) past its expiration date, hoping for the magic to return. I mean, I’ve just heard about it “from a friend.”

But if I compare whatever affirmation-seeking tendencies I have with those that Trump displays without batting an orange-tinted eyelash[1], then I look like Miss Self-Esteem 2017. (Read the first ten minutes of the meeting with the New York Times Trump had two weeks ago, the transcript of which I devoured at the time[2]. His parents must’ve done some whammy on him.)

By the by, for this post I’m writing little footnotes — but you can jump right back up after you read ’em. Fancy!

Oh, and I forgot, Trump’s not calling it a Victory Tour anymore; he’s calling it a Thank You Tour.

Unfortunately, since telling whoever’s standing in front of him whatever they want to hear is what got the bastard[3] elected, he’s not even close to hitting bottom, so recovery from his addiction is nowhere near. Meanwhile I’m loving the opening lines of his first post-election rally, held in Ohio last week, because they so completely hit his own nail on the head: 

“So, I didn’t know this . . . I love you too . . . look at this place . . . So, I didn’t know what came with this position . . . and I didn’t know that they close down the roads around the stadium for an hour and a half . . .”


A new gratuitous shot of my little nephew, who believes in climate change, even though it still snows.

Donald, I certainly do not underestimate your ignorance . . . but you live in the same city I do. Everyone in New York knows that when a President decides to pop up here for a little Christmas shopping or what have you, half the streets in Manhattan get closed down until he’s done. And I know you ain’t on the subway, ’cause I ain’t never seen you there. Like when I’ve abandoned the cab that hasn’t moved for ten minutes due to said political traffic jam, and hopped on the train so I can maybe get to my dentist appointment before Santa Claus comes, and not pay $250 for a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am cleaning.

Meanwhile in Ohio, he continues speaking to his adoring crowd:

“I’m here today for one main reason: to say thank you to Ohio. Thank you. We won this state by almost TEN points . . . which they say is totally unheard of . . . I kept hearing, ‘you must win Ohio, you cannot win the Presidency without winning Ohio.’ And we started about even, right? And then point by point by point, and then we had a couple of little troughs, but with Ohio there was no troughs — we just kept getting better and better. Just better and better. And the end result is incredible. I love you Ohio, this is a great place, some great people, I have so many friends . . .”

Does anyone else feel like they want to bang their head on their desk over and over when they watch this stuff? (I know — you’re not watching like I am. But I got you covered.)

Trump talks a lot about what “they said” and “they say”:

“You went out . . . and propelled a grassroots movement, the likes of which the world has never seen before — this is what they say. Today on one of the networks, they said, ‘This hasn’t happened since . . . maybe Andrew Jackson?’ I said ‘When was that? That was like in the . . . 1838?’[4] And then somebody else said, ‘Well, that was great, but nothing like what happened here.’ Okay? So it really has been fun.”

I just . . . I don’t . . . How do we . . . ? Help me. . .

And then he boasted that “a major anchor who hosted a debate started crying when she realized that we won.” As if that’s bad. Because even if Martha Raddatz had cried (I haven’t seen any footage of such), IT WOULD BE TOTALLY APPROPRIATE.

You know what babies do the second they come out of the womb? They cry. It alerts people to their needs. “Take care of me. Don’t let me die.”

That’s what a lot of us felt when we realized what was happening in the late hours of November 8th. Basic, instinctual fear that everything is suddenly NOT okay. I call it the new DTs (Donald Trumps). I’ve laid out the symptoms for you in a companion post, so you can see if you’ve got it.

But addicts, which Trump clearly is, have a hard time believing that painful feelings are okay. In fact, those feelings are more than okay — they make it possible for us to stay alive. They alert us to our own needs. Feel hungry? Need to eat. Feel tired? Need to sleep. Feel like everything you do is useless and your life is going nowhere? Need to do something more fulfilling. (Not that I know anything about that, either.)

Tears are healthy. Surely I’m not the only one who sometimes cries behind her sunglasses on the bus to work when reading about who Trump is appointing to his Cabinet that day, am I? ‘Cause could he be picking people who are LESS appropriate?


  • An outspoken EPA hater as head of the EPA? Scott Pruitt is an all-out climate denier.
  • The CEO of Carl’s Jr. and Hardee’s — a guy named Puzder, who’s fought low-wage workers’ right to overtime, among other things —  as Labor Secretary?
  • Steven Mnuchinthe jerk who bought a failing mortgage lender in 2009, leading to protests on the lawn of his $26.5 million Bel Air mansion after he foreclosed on the homes of working class families and then sold the bank for a hefty profit — as Treasury Secretary?
  • Jeff Sessions as Attorney General, who couldn’t pass muster as a federal judge when Reagan tried to appoint him, because he was too racist for the job?
  • The CEO of the biggest oil company in the world (ExxonMobil) as Secretary of State?? (I think the swamp Trump wants to drain is the one where his next golf course is planned, biodiversity be damned.)
  •  Another climate denier, the fossil-fuel-crazed Cathy McMorris Rodgers — who said, “We believe Al Gore deserves an ‘F’ in science and an ‘A’ in creative writing” — as Secretary of the Interior?[5]
  • Wilbur Ross, who blames trade agreements rather than the bigger culprit — automation — for loss of jobs, as Commerce Secretary? (Plus: Do working-class Americans know that if they pay fellow Americans rather than 13-year-old Asian girls to make all the stuff we buy, they’re gonna have to pay the actual living-wage prices of said stuff?)
  • Trump has named Betsy Devos, a billionaire Republican donor who favors privatization of education, as Secretary of Education. Not elite at ALL.
  • And Ben Carson — who he compared to a child molester during the Primaries, but hey, Carson threw his votes to Trump when he dropped out — as Housing & Urban Development Secretary. (Huh??)
  • And at least this one makes me giggle: Linda McMahon, the co-founder and CEO of WWE (yes, the wrestling franchise) as the Small Business Administration Administrator (apparently “administration administrator” is a thing). SMACKDOWN!!!

Every time one of these guys gets named by Trump, Rachel Maddow opens her show with a 10-minute-long detailed story about some nightmarish character who did such ethics-defying things that your lower jaw hits your knee, and then she says, “And that’s who Donald Trump just named as . . .”

I feel like Steve Bannon is the least of my worries. I can’t wait for my next bus commute. Sigh.

But I guarantee that he appointed those people — or whoever’s advising him on it — because they’re the only ones who’ll kiss his ass hard enough to make up for whatever love he didn’t get as a kid. I’m not a medical professional, but I do think I know everything.

Like how the Hillary campaign f*%#d up from the get-go. I knew from the opening speeches of the Democratic Convention that we’d lost the populace (although I didn’t know they’d win). Michelle Obama’s speech was magical . . . until she said, “So don’t let anyone ever tell you that this country isn’t great, that somehow we need to make it great again.”

Ummm. Not so for all of us. For me, yeah, it’s okay — I’m finishing this post while I sit in a salon getting more blonde highlights put in, and sipping lemon water out of a stemless wine glass. Gawd, I suck. But telling undereducated, rural folks who can’t make their mortgage to care about climate change? What they care about is getting their fair share. And blaming brown people — hell, why not? Aren’t people from the Middle East the ones we’ve been at war with for a couple of decades? It’s better than blaming guys like the Koch Brothers; you can’t deport them“Look over here, at these immigrants! Pay no attention to the corporations behind the curtain.” 

Perhaps we have not been listening to the cries of the world with ears of wisdom and determination. – Roshi Enkyo of the Village Zendo

Why shouldn’t they believe some rich celebrity blowhard promising them the America of 1946, right after the end of World War II. But with supermodels. This is about feelings, not facts. You can’t tell a person who feels left behind that everything’s okay. In other words, #RednecksMatter, too. Everybody has needs. Closeted gay suicide bombers have needs. Bad (and good) hombres have needs. Nasty women, Baltimore youths, and trigger-happy cops have needs. And Bernie Sanders is right about the broadening wealth gap; I’ve got it in my own family, and it doesn’t feel great.

After writing this, I just watched part of an incredible Town Hall that Bernie and Chris Hayes did in Wisconsin last night that shed a lot of light on things; this is just 12 minutes of it.

Tell me in the comments if you’ve got ideas for how we can help ALL segments of the disenfranchised, because we need to do that. Sadly, we’re not gonna reach them through the New York Times. And I know it’s not gonna be through the CEO of Exxon.

Follow this blog below for whatever I may come up with. Plus that little endorphin rush when I get notified will make me feel loved. I neeeeeed it . . . .


Fun footnotes:

screen-shot-2016-12-13-at-9-21-17-pm1. I think Trump might be growing out the yellow dye job on his hair. Check out his inch of silver roots in the photo from his meeting with the Times. I’m just guessing, since no way I’d show up at the biggest newspaper in the country with that much regrowth “on accident.” (Jump back up)

2. No wonder I’m so behind on this blog . . .  (Jumpeth thee back)

3. Excuse me, I meant “sick and suffering” bastard. (Jumpity-jump)

4. Andrew Jackson won the Presidency in 1828, not 1838. 1838 was the first year of the economic Depression that resulted from the Panic of 1837. Also, Jackson’s rowdy populism got him the nickname “King Mob.” Coinkidink? (Get back, Loretta)

5. Cathy Rodgers is now out, and another white dude, Ryan Zinke, is in for Sec’y of the Interior. Zinke goes hunting with Eric Trump, but I’m sure that has nothing to do with it. (Go ahead and . . . JUMP!)

5 thoughts on ““I’m Donald Trump, and I’m a love addict.”

  1. Pingback: Have you got the D.T.s? | waste management: the blog

  2. Pingback: Welcome to the End of the World | waste management: the blog

  3. I’ve “got the DT’s!” You’re hilarious. Sorry you didn’t get the environmental job…loved that post too, especially the sweet exchange with the cabbie. It’s a scary time, so thnx for the info and some lightness.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pingback: Ladyhood, version 2017 | waste management: the blog

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