Letter To The President

Hey 45th President of the United States of America,

Nope. Not gonna write "Dear" before your title. Nor will I mention you by name. Just the thought of approaching you directly, even only in a symbolic written blog post on my personal blog makes me want to throw up. Congratulations! You have done pretty much what only the touch of velvet does to me - made me want to vomit. 

Here's the thing... You lost. 
Did you hear that? You got what I'm saying?
Let me repeat that: You LOST.
You L-O-S-T the US elections and will not be continuing disgracing the presidency another four year term. 
Nope. Don't want to hear any conspiracy theories about voter fraud without ANY EVIDENCE to back up your ridiculous claims that let's face it - are just a loud tantrum by someone with an inflated ego and emotional intelligence of a toddler. You LOST.
Hey, take off that shocked expression off your orange face... it shouldn't be that much of a surprise. After all, there were only two outcome for you in this election - win or lose - so the concept of losing must have crossed your mind once or thrice. 

Now, since we cleared that up.... here's what's coming next: You are gonna wear your BIG BOY PANTS. And step up and... GET THE FUCK OUT. I'm not gonna beautify it. Not gonna sugar coat what seventy four (and counting) millions of people want you to do. And sure, you had an large turn-out as well, and seventy million voters yourself... which is impressive, but you know what? You. Still. Lost. 

So listen, let's not drag this out, 'kay? Your successor has to go into work quickly and put all his focus into repairing the damage you have infringed or took advantage of. He doesn't need any distractions from a moronic sociopathic con artist that plays with the USA like it's a game of monopoly. Give him peace and quiet so he can do THE JOB OF THE PRESIDENCY which is actually to look after the people. Know what that is? 'People'. Look it up if you are struggling. (And I know you're struggling, I am relishing in the thought of it actually.)

So one last word of advice for you 45: Get. The. Fuck. Out. You're fired!