As a young man, I learned that sometimes that hot chick you’re dating is also completely crazy and, as much fun as it is to go out with her, it’s going to end badly. That’s Donald Trump, the super hottie of the “I Hate the GOP Establishment with a Burning Passion That Has Rendered Me Insusceptible to Reason” crew. He’s sexy, he likes to party, and he certainly puts out – in the sense that he fulfills your fantasies about giving it to the RINOs good and hard.
That intensely troubling metaphor aside, the point is still valid. Donald Trump is not a keeper, not the one you want to marry. He’s never going to make you happy. For now, he’s going to say what makes you happy, and for now he’s going to make a lot of the right people go nuts, but if you get hitched he’ll cheat on you with the liberals. At the end of the day, you’ll walk out of the courtroom wearing a barrel while Trump and the pool boy jet off to Tahiti on your dime.
I get the attraction. He ticks off Barack Obama, he outrages Hillary Clinton, and he gives Jeb Bush conniptions. This is all fine and good. He often says the stuff you’re not supposed to say but that most normal people think. Sometimes he says stuff no sane person thinks. He’s fun at parties, except that after he has a few and puts the lampshade on his head he stops being amusing and starts picking fights with your friends.