...because you keep saying "I disavow" by itself. You have to disavow something or someone for that sentence to work. And you kind of keep doing it.
To be fair, you did include an object in the debate last night. You said, "I disavow the Klu Klux Klan."
"Huh," I thought. "He threw an extra 'l' in the word, 'Ku.' Most of the people I've heard do that are school-aged children who are learning about the group for the first time and are having trouble pronouncing it. Admittedly, it's a clunky group name. It was a slip of the tongue. I'll cut him some slack."
But see, then you did it again. A second time, in a row, almost immediately after the first time. Which leads me to believe that you actually think the name of the group is "Klu" Klux Klan. Which is wrong. It's upsetting to me.
But not as upsetting as the fact that it took you longer than exactly zero seconds to "disavow" a terrorist organization who killed black people for sport. It's less upsetting than that.
5. Are you kidding me?
I mean it. I'm not asking ironically.
My great hope is that this is all the most elaborate political joke of all time; that somehow that insane conspiracy theory that the Clintons paid you to run in order to give them a leg up is true.
That we aren't living in a time in America when people believe that a bigoted, bullying, sexist, xenophobe, pretending to tout Christian values, should be President of the United States. Because what was it that Jesus said? Oh yeah. "BUILD ME A WALL!"
I want to believe in my country more than that, sir. I want to believe that you're just kidding around. That, while this has certainly gone too far, has certainly embarrassed an entire nation of people, you are running the longest and best Jim Halpert-style prank that anyone has ever seen.
This is my hope. This is my prayer.
Don't get me wrong, sir. I don't think you'll ever be President. There are too many people on both sides of the aisle who DISAVOW! your antics and barely take the time to acknowledge you as a serious candidate. When you have two former political rivals like our current President and Mitt Romney coming out to condemn you, people have to figure that you don't really have a shot.
Plus, my dad says you won't win, and he's pretty much always right.
I alternate between rage and jovial dismissal when it comes to you, Mr. Trump. I go back and forth between being the embodiment of SMH and rolling my eyes. One minute, you're making me reach for a tub of ice cream to stress-eat; the next, I remember you are a clown from the circus.
Here's the thing, Don. Can I call you Don? I know if you actually were ever to read this note, you'd probably say that I was hysterical or that it must be "that time of the month" for me, or make fun of my nose (get in line, pal), or tell me that I'm only a 5 on a scale of 10. You'd dig up pictures of me as an ugly middle-schooler and talk about my lack of fashion sense. You'd slam my 7th grade perm. That seems to be how you handle crisis or criticism.
Joke's on you, because there's nothing my husband likes better than a woman with a sense of humor whose nose used to be nicknamed "The Antler." So: