At first, I was nervous. What if “he” won the debate? What if “he” won the election? “No”, I thought to myself, “try not to think about it.” Reaching for a slurp of Maker’s 46, I sat down to a surreal 98 minutes of indecipherable television. I recorded it for posterity. I recorded it so I could watch it later and try to make some sense of it. It was like being at a party at which I drank a little too much; it was a little blurry, too surreal to process all at once.
Well, I had a couple, and maybe because I had a couple, I tapped into the same absurdity Hillary noticed and maybe all but 43% of the rest of the country noticed; I started to laugh a little on the inside. Huh, I wonder what he would look like with a funny red nose, and maybe some rosy cheeks and big floppy shoes. Nope, I don’t think he would be as funny. His seriousness is what makes him funny.
No, it’s his temperament, it’s a great temperament really. No, wait, it’s his stamina. He has great stamina. You need lots of stamina to be President of the United States. And Trump has shown that he has GREAT stamina many times over. Hillary Clinton, on the other hand, has NO stamina. (To my descendants find this blog many generations from now: This paragraph is an extreme example of 21st century sarcasm. You may now have a book discussion or write your college paper).
So, no, with all of my sarcasm drained from my body, I can say that I cannot wait for the next debate on October 9, where I will once again record the event, but while I watch live I have every intention of playing the Debate Drinking Game like so many disgruntled American electorate. I highly recommend it. Basically, you will drink each time your chosen candidate utters a key word (personally, I like “stamina”). Once you awaken from your coma, you will find you have recorded the conflagration and if you choose to, you can watch it sober and try to make sense of it. Or, you can get drunk again and go vote on November 8.