I’ve made contracts with every sort of lowlife. I’ve been to the crossroads. I’ve been down to Georgia. I’ve signed agreements with legions of lawyers, living, as I do, in the details, and ended up with the souls of everyone except Daniel Webster, that prig-tastic blowhole.
But Donald Trump? Not worth it.
Maybe you thought I already owned Trump’s soul. How else could someone so gob-smackingly incompetent fail upward all the way to a second presidential term? But social media, misogyny, and the ever-loving shit show known as the also gob-smackingly incompetent “Democratic Party”—that’s on you, humans. As folks in our Fifth Circle say about Trump, “Wow, does his shit stink.” And that place reeks so bad, the demons wear gas masks.


