Mirror Fraud!

 Dear you,

I am worried about this guy, the owner of the Trump house down the road:

Yes, the banner is still belligerently there. Even now.  After all the bogus lawsuits, all the debunked voter fraud claims, and all the very very verified final vote tallies, this dude still loves his Donald. He can’t grasp the fact that he has lost something.  Face it, dear neighbor.  Some things just end.  Some things just disappear.  Like my butt!

Yesterday, I shopped for some wintry fashion at the Old Navy Outlet in Sandestin.  I carried an armload of options into the dressing room, undeterred by the unflattering lighting and brutally truthful mirrors, things that might bother peers my age.  Me, why worry?  I am in good shape.  I exercise, moisturize, and keep it simple.  Everything appears to be as it should, time marching on in a not too depressing way.  Until this:  the wraparound brutally truthful mirror informed me during one costume change that MY BUTT IS DISAPPEARING!  What????  I knew my J-Lo days were over, but this?  I do squats!  With weights!  This cannot be!  It must be mirror fraud!

No.  It wasn’t mirror fraud.  It was mirror truth.  My butt is disappearing. Well, compared to what it used to be.  Sigh.  Carry on.  Add gluteal bridges and ridiculous fire hydrant exercises to the daily workout.  But accept the fact, Joyce, you have lost something. 

The Trump house dude needs to experience a similar political mirror moment.

This revelation might be too much for him since he is probably in the butt-loss stage of life too.  We can’t handle too much simultaneous losing.  Nevertheless, he and his fellow Trump lovers need to let it the hell go!  Darlings, you have lost something.

Some things just end.

Some things just disappear.

Like my butt!

Deal with it.

Love,

Joyce