It is hard for me to feel sorry for the Orange Man.  And I do not really. However, I am here alone tonight as wife is at some function or another. I do a lot of the cooking for our evening meal.  I like to cook but for at least two. I mull the thought of living alone.  Someone to fuss with, put up with my odor, maybe do some washing, chastise me for ignoring my health, etc.  

No man is an island, and no man stands alone. So, I am not looking forward to the possible day that I might have to live alone. So, I can’t help but feel a bit of condolence for the Trumpster as he is habitually drinking misery and sin sitting with all his “friends” but talking to himself.  Looks like he’s having a good time, but any fool can see his golden Mar Largo really makes him feel like hell. (My apologies to Merle Haggard for paraphrasing his lyrics.) Enough so that he must pay off or bully folks to have companionship and/or their faux admiration.  

Pat Lynch

Estill Springs