I’m having a nervous breakdown about tomorrow’s debate, mostly because I’m convinced nothing good can come out of it. Sociopathic Trump has treated this country like his romantic prey for a year now. The Democrats are the women he’s dumped (“Don’t listen to that bitch; she’s crrrrazy.”); the Republicans are the sorority sisters he’s still trying to shtup. (“Let me say exactly what you want me to say while I unhook your bra.”) Ultimately, anyone unfortunate enough to date a malignant narcissist knows that there’s no besting such a black hole except to change your number, leave town, and get thoroughly tested for STDs. Pray for Hillary; I’ve been doing it all day.
9/26 Postscript: Given that I have not been able to turn my head to the right for four days (I have a pain in the neck; ah, body as metaphor), I’m leaning toward not watching the debate at all, just turning off my electronics and beaming Mz. Clinton pure light.