This morning I had a Hat-and-Hair dream. Fat, orange Trump was wandering around the Oval Office cleaning up cat vomit, bitching at Pie, and not wearing any clothes. At this point, I think I’m going to sue the other founders for mental anguish, put out my eyes, and join a monastery. Thankfully, my youngest son picked that moment to come into our room and wake me up. Otherwise, my soul might truly have been lost.

Its mating season for gators in Florida, so look out for lots of jorts and oyster boots. (For you non-sportzball fans, the University of Florida’s mascot is the gators, and well, they’re just not fashionable people)

Orbital billboards — I guess the Moon was too expensive.

Trump to Whitehouse Correspondants — I’ll go party with the people who are going to make me President again. I’m sure by October 2020, SugarFree will be praying for an upset so he doesn’t have to beat a dead-horse serial for another 4 years.

Dem Presidential Candidate (who isn’t) proposes 2 new Cabinet level agencies – Minitrue and Minikid. Anyone else cynical enough to think the children’s one will end up owning abortion and other “state-paid” infant and child healthcare decisions?

I went searching for hat songs and found… something. The line dancing in the middle part looks like something out of 90s country video. I’m sure that’s culturally insensitive of me.