i've been camped out on the big couch with my comforter and my pillow and my binky (small piece of satin i fuzzle when sucking my thumb). in and out of consciousness. but for the last two hours, doc has been up so i have been up. relegated back to my small couch. simon is cuddled up with me, so i guess it's okay.
my campaign of poking donald trump continues. i don't know why. i know it's immature, but it's so nice to snark at the bully. i know i should just ignore him, but he won't go away if i do. he won't go away no matter what. he's like bedbugs. and how long does it take him to get up and do his "hair" anyway? he's still not tweeting yet. bored. wanna poke the stuffed shirt. i make sure every post to him is properly spelled and capitalized. i'm not one of those internet trolls who capslock and just blather. i think out my responses first. i don't want him to respond, but i do wonder if he even reads his feedback on twitter. i imagine his ego would force him to.