Donald:

Me:

The Bogart is from “Dead Reckoning,” a rare, non-Warner Bros. flick (Columbia) he made in the 1940s, co-starring Lizabeth Scott, which P and I watched the other night. It's good for two-thirds, then becomes kind of WTF. 

The Donald was from an email the Trump team sent me—along with many others. Yeah, somehow I wound up on their mailing list. I think because I answered one of his idiot polls where the options are like: 1) Slathering, 2) Obsequious, 3) Way to go, boss!, 4) Other. 

Donald, of course, was always WTF. 63 million of my fellow citizens are idiots and always will be. They will never live that down. We will never live that down. It's not just Trump's Hillary-bashing, Obama-bashing, Dem-bashing, FBI-bashing, NFL-bashing, MSM-bashing, immigrant-bashing, wall-building, sabre-rattling, Putin-worshipping, pathetic lying ways. It's the capital-F “Friend.” That he, or his team, would use “Friend,” and that people would buy it. And continue to buy it.

This is my last post of the year. There was an old Doonesbury strip where the gang was at a New Year's Eve party in 1979, lamenting the awful 10 years they'd been through. One of the gang repeated what his grandmother said about the worst of life, “This too shall pass,” and so they raised a toast: “To a kidney stone of a decade!” So we do with 2017. To a kidney stone of a year. But we passed that motherfucker. At least we did that.