This Democrat Convention's gonna cost me…

I made it all the way through the Republican Convention without getting so enthused that I ran to this computer and made a contribution to the Trump campaign.  I usually wait until fairly late in presidential campaigns to donate because past experience has taught me the hard lesson that the first donation opens the floodgates of solicitation via email, snail mail, and telephone.  Besides, I figure that's when my candidate needs cash the most, in the late stages of the fight, when it's getting down to the nitty-gritty and a lot of the early supporters are beginning to feel tapped out.

But damn all, that phony redskin, Fauxahontas Warren, just sent me frothing to this keyboard to donate my first hundred bucks way too early by my normal practices.  I simply could not help myself; listening to the litany of lies flowing so glibly from that self-proclaimed savage, who has spoken with a forked tongue throughout her career to gain advantage over her peers, utterly drove me to violate my own policy.  I know, I know: it's gonna cost me bucks – a few hundred more than usual, most likely – because now those Republican fund-raisers are going to be coming after me from every point of the conservative compass.

You know what?  I don't care.  I am so determined that a conniving, corrupt criminal and her pedophile husband will not sit in our White House that I'm willing to put my bucks where Donald's mouth is.  He's not perfect, but he's a damned sight better than the alternative.  So tonight, way ahead of my normal schedule, I sent him my first hundred bucks, and I'll certainly send more – I hope not before this Democrat Convention is over, but that depends on who they put up there as speakers and how gratingly irritating they are.  I'm praying they don't put that phony, shrieking Fauxahontas back on stage, because I'm here to tell you, folks: that woman may not be a natural Native American, but she's for damned sure a natural fundraiser for Trump.

And it's gonna cost me money...

I made it all the way through the Republican Convention without getting so enthused that I ran to this computer and made a contribution to the Trump campaign.  I usually wait until fairly late in presidential campaigns to donate because past experience has taught me the hard lesson that the first donation opens the floodgates of solicitation via email, snail mail, and telephone.  Besides, I figure that's when my candidate needs cash the most, in the late stages of the fight, when it's getting down to the nitty-gritty and a lot of the early supporters are beginning to feel tapped out.

But damn all, that phony redskin, Fauxahontas Warren, just sent me frothing to this keyboard to donate my first hundred bucks way too early by my normal practices.  I simply could not help myself; listening to the litany of lies flowing so glibly from that self-proclaimed savage, who has spoken with a forked tongue throughout her career to gain advantage over her peers, utterly drove me to violate my own policy.  I know, I know: it's gonna cost me bucks – a few hundred more than usual, most likely – because now those Republican fund-raisers are going to be coming after me from every point of the conservative compass.

You know what?  I don't care.  I am so determined that a conniving, corrupt criminal and her pedophile husband will not sit in our White House that I'm willing to put my bucks where Donald's mouth is.  He's not perfect, but he's a damned sight better than the alternative.  So tonight, way ahead of my normal schedule, I sent him my first hundred bucks, and I'll certainly send more – I hope not before this Democrat Convention is over, but that depends on who they put up there as speakers and how gratingly irritating they are.  I'm praying they don't put that phony, shrieking Fauxahontas back on stage, because I'm here to tell you, folks: that woman may not be a natural Native American, but she's for damned sure a natural fundraiser for Trump.

And it's gonna cost me money...