My wife has a Trump calendar, complete with beautifully photographed images of the President and First Lady at the top of each month.
I think one of our few trusted conservative friends gave it to her. Whatever the case, my wife pridefully posted it in the kitchen, where it stays on full display — until we have guests.
One afternoon when she was preparing to host her monthly club meeting, this time at our home, I noticed her taking down the calendar and putting it under a pile of papers.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing, ” she answered.
“But why are you taking down the calendar?”
“It’s my club meeting. People will be here in a couple of hours.”
“So?” I asked.
“I like being in this club!” she responded. “Most of these people are my friends. If the calendar stays up, I lose all my friends.”
“Why?” I was stupid enough to ask.
“Because they like to talk about white privilege, income redistribution, reparations for slavery, toxic masculinity, a woman’s right to choose, Michelle Obama, and the concentration camps at our southern border.”
“What concentration camps at our southern border?”
She glared at me.
“But if they’re your friends, they’re your friends. Politics shouldn’t make a difference.”
“You know,” she said, “I mentioned that I voted for Trump to the lady who takes care of our dog while we’re on vacation. Now, we don’t have anyone to take care of the dog.
“But –”
“And our conservative friends across town offered me their Trump bumper sticker. They’re not going to put it on their car because they don’t want it it vandalized.”
“But –”
“I noticed a car with a Trump bumper sticker at the grocery the other day. It looked like someone had a good time with a baseball bat!”
“But –”
“We live in a liberal college town,” she said. “But I have the bumper sticker if you want it.”
“No thanks,” I responded. “My car is really nice.”
“My friends are really nice,” my wife said, “as long as you don’t say something they disagree with.”
Since then, the Trump calendar has been proudly displayed in our kitchen — except when we have guests.
— Mr. Evil
I have one of the sharpest Trump 2020 hats I have seen. It was given to me by a fellow firearms shooter. I’ve worn it once – within the confines of my house. I get enough foul looks wearing a Vietnam Veteran hat, and everyone knows what happens if the other side sees a Trump hat. They feel they have the right, no, they are empowered by the new socialist agenda to rip a Trump hat from your head and scream limitlessly whatever foul rants they can think of. For my wife’s sake I leave it on the coat tree, and put up with the subtle looks of distain for wearing my Nam hat. So much hate, which has been boiling beneath the surface, now courses the veins of Liberals, like lava from hell,