MAAAMAAAMAAA!

Make America Affordable Again is $TRUMP’s new schtick. Say it fast three times and it sounds like a baby crying for a diaper change.

We’ve reached that point, my friends. The most powerful man in the world is so full of shit, his mind is so far gone, his polling numbers are leaking so badly that he is crying out for his MAAA, MAAA.

Yesterday, he found solace in a casino, the source of his first but not his last grand failure. He went on and on about how he had whipped inflation so bigly steaks were selling for $20 per pound.

Amid the glare of the stage lighting and the flashing lights of the one-armed bandits, even a banker complained about his energy prices doubling!

Doubling!

But the saddest comments came from a retired bartender who admitted her casino visits had increased, perhaps, as a way to stretch her savings. Always a bad bet.

“It’s not going well,” she [told a Washington Post reporter] with a smile. “I should stay home.”

“I voted for him,” she says of Trump. “I wish he could do better.”

But he can’t.

His daily cares are not those of the retired bartender or even the banker’s struggles. They are the indignities of growing ever older, even faster.

Who will change his diapers, give him his daily cocktail of meds, or inject him with Donanemab (Kisunla) monthly?

Who will help him when he is “unable to walk across a room, bathing or showering, eating, dressing, toileting, and transfering in or out of bed?”*Being unable to do just one of those tasks without difficulty defines a disabled life.

With each passing day, he grows slightly weaker, slightly more dependent, and much more frustrated and angrier.

For the MAGA wolves are circling, sniffing the rancid air, and planning for his disabled life.

MAAAMAAAMAAA.

* From my forthcoming book, The Road Not Taken, and quoting “Changing Impact of Obesity on Active Life Expectancy of Older Americans,” by Zhang, Saito and Crimmins in the Journal of Gerontology: Medical Sciences, 2019.