Unbelievably enough Trump's most recent attempt at intelligent public speaking, only the second time he's summoned the courage to do so in half a year, was mostly a propaganda monologue and artful exercise in wasting everybody's time while saying almost nothing of substance with few ideas grounded in reality.
The late Fidel Castro might have been forgiven for assuming that Trump and his girly circus were inspired by his own high handed monologues if only they had had anything to actually talk about for more than fifteen minutes. So next time The Press corps want to line up to have feces flung in their faces they probably should come expecting one of his bone-brained lawyers to devote three quarters of the event to a boring, tedious, legalese filibuster where they read from his many folders of defensive nonsense designed to bore to snores nearly all present ensuring that there be as little time as humanly possible for anyone to ask uncomfortable questions that may irritate our "Ignorant-Child-in-Chief" .
If it weren't for his robot-like torso pivoting (stiff neck?) and marionette-style hand gestures (he needs to take some of that Sunless tanning lotion off his face and share it with his palms so they appear less clammy) I now find myself pining for the days of George Dumya's speeches which at the time I considered "UNWATCHABLE" now they almost seem brilliant in comparison to our new poet laureate of un-listenable crap.
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