Trying to envision the world after one year of a Princess Pantsuit Presidency is…well, like imagining bamboo chips being shoved under my fingernails. With great force.  Or maybe a colonoscopy…sans anesthesia.  Yeah, THAT painful…at least for me.  But envision I must for the good of my blog.  Or something like that.  And while it’s an exercise in complete prognostication and conjecture, the clarity upon which I can imagine the misery of Obama 3.0 in the Oval Office is nothing less than true clairvoyance.  Or maybe it’s just too damn easy because the differences are so stark…like Ivanka Trump and Rosie (aka Big Fat Pumpkinhead) O’Donnell sporting the same piece of sexy lingerie.  Ew.  OK…half an ew. Continue reading →