Look at that juicy, plump, and delectable fried chicken breast. Filled with white meat, delicious skin, and America's finest hormones; ready to be devoured with hands and fingers and anxious teeth, how God intended it to be.
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And look at that daft motherfucker looming over top of it; his artificially tanned skin the tint of a dying sun in a shitty solar system. A sun that just said "Fuck it, man. I don't feel like shining anymore." His teeth bleached like white underwear with stubborn skid marks. His grin shit-eating and grotesque as he wields his knife and fork like an Anime hyena in a human skin suit surprised he hasn't yet been discovered and kicked out of Applebees. And that spoon! That poor and innocent spoon! What the hell does this gotdamn madman plan to do with that sweet spoon? I dare not to think about the horrible, terrible, disgusting things in this spoon's future. I will pray for you, Brother Spoon.
If there's any image out there that's a better synopsis of what Trump's vision of America would be, I haven't yet seen it. It's all there; the stark opulence, the fabricated humanity, the staged relatability.
This man might be President. This man could be President.
Straight From 
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