Coming up Trump’s

Appalled. Simply appalled.

The amount of social mediocre chatter – or should that be clamour – wishing for the very worst outcome for US president Donald Trump in his battle with COVID-19 seriously has me questioning the current state of our humanity.

Why so many people would run the risk of being put into Twitterjail or Facebook purgatory for online expressions of joy at Mr Trump’s plight and fervent hopes that he dies a not-too-fast and painful death has this old ranter shaking his head in disappointment and belief.

Where has the common decency gone? The concept of fair play. Don’t want to get too religious here but what about the old “do unto others as you’d like them to do unto you” mantra, that goodwill- -to-all-people shtick.

No matter what we might think of any person or his politics, especially this man, no-one should have death wished upon them with the unforgivable ferocity directed to the 45th president of the United States.

No, like the other decent, caring people still out there somewhere, albeit in apparently dwindling numbers, I sincerely want Mr Trump to recover quickly, what with the cocktail of experimental and untested drug the best medical experts are pumping him full of.

I desperately need to see the president back on the hustings in rude good health and re-engaging in a spirited if at times spiteful battle with his presidential opponent Joe Biden.

And then, hopefully, not far down the track, a beaten Donald Trump will face numerous federal charges relating to his life before and during his time in the White House. Tax evasion. company law breaches. Misuse of office, etc, etc.

I’m looking forward to him serving a long sentence in some squalid federal penitentiary and sharing his cell with some 15-stone but surprising ripped vet, maybe one of those losers who fought in Iraq or Afghanistan. Maybe someone who enlisted despite having bone spurs.

Colour wouldn’t particularly worry me but I kind of like the idea of an African American man, a not-so-proud boy from the deep south with a very angry outlook on life and an enormous, eye-watering … ah…err …. sexual appetite.

Ten times a day, he could make the former president wear a pretty blue bonnet, maybe, and force him to call out pitifully in his anger and his rectal pain…”I was POTUS, I was POTUS but the shame still remains.”

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