Sun, Oct. 20

Letter: If you voted for him, then Trump can be your president, but not mine


Enough already! Enough with the surrogates explaining about what Trump “really meant.” Is he not a grown man capable of saying exactly what he means? Enough with my fellow Christians making excuses for their precious “baby Christian.” He may be a “baby Christian,” but he’s also a 70-year-old man. More than old enough to know right from wrong!

Enough with the editorials and commentators wearing themselves out trying to normalize this guy. He’s not normal.

Our new president can’t be bothered to attend daily security briefings, but is more than happy to make time for a chat with a rap singer. He won’t bother with press conferences, but loves to engage in petty tweetstorms.

He promised weeks ago to release his tax returns, and clear up our new first lady’s sketchy immigration history. Obviously, not gonna happen.

He promised to “drain the swamp,” but has so far only brought in his new, hand-picked alligators.

He claimed for months that the election was rigged. Now it appears that he was actually correct about that. But has changed his tune, disbelieving the mounting evidence, and encouraging his GOP lapdogs to obstruct any investigations. Gosh, I wonder why?

This is the guy you said you wanted, Trump voters. Hope you’re happy. But he will never, ever be my president. I won’t ever call him by that title.

Desiree Valenzuela


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