Dr. StrangeRug or How I Learned I Could Be Trump's Speechwriter

I thought we could all use a laugh right about now, so here is my take on Donald Trump's upcoming speech at the Republican National Convention. 

This blog post is in honor of the most excellent decision that Sherwin Williams made to not remove the LeBron James/Cleveland Cavaliers Championship banner from their global headquarters for the Republican National Convention, July 18-21. 

And, away we go (fill in all hand gestures, signs of enthusiasm and general psychotic behavior in your heads)...

"When I heard that the RNC chose Cleveland to host their convention, I was a little unsure. Listen, listen. I'm not gonna lie, I was skeptical. Things weren't great here -- you know it, I know it, we all know it. 

But you know what this city did? You know what brilliant, beautiful thing the people of this city did? They went back to their roots. They went back to their roots and got a hometown guy -- a guy -- a person -- who would rightfully care more about this city than anyone else, right? Right. And you know what they did? They made their city great again. 

You saw that coming, right? Yeah, I can't pull one over on you. Let me say it again though, cause it's so good. It's just so good. They MADE their city GREAT AGAIN. 

And what happened? Well, we all know what happened. We all got on board, amiright? I'm right! Of course, I'm right. We all got on board and Ayesha Curry shut up finally and people enjoyed it. They loved it. Believeland took over. That's what I kept hearing. Believeland. Everywhere, Believeland, right? Genius. Just geniuses these people are and what they did. 

They made their city great again.

And that's why I've always been a big fan of Cleveland. BIG fan! Cause you know, Cleveland, it's just like America. It is, it is! I'm right! You know, I'm right! I'm right so often, I'm almost sick of being right! I'm just kidding, being this right all the time is great. But anyway so Cleveland, you know like America, it's had -- it's had some trouble. It has, you know it has. It had a few years where things weren't looking great, there. Rivers caught on fire. They lost jobs and things. They lost their football team. It just -- it wasn't great.

But, here's the thing, you know what? Cleveland -- it didn't lose hope. Never. Not once. And you know why? Cause winners never lose hope. Never. Why? Cause they know they can still win. And you did. You knew that and you saw it and you didn't give up. You saw what needed to be done and you did it. And that's what winners do. 

You know, you welcomed LeBron back even though -- you know -- there were some hurt feelings. He left. He needed to do his thing. And that's great. That's great. He's a champ. He did what he had to do. But then he decided he wanted to make his home team GREAT AGAIN. And that's -- well basically, that's just like me -- that's what I'm doing. That's what I'm doing here.

I'm like the LeBron of business and politics. Of country-running. Or really, he's like the Donald Trump of basketball. That sounds better, right? More accurate. Besides, I was here first. I'm just saying, I was. 

And you know, I've had success. A lot of success. BIG success! You know it. Some might say I'm a business CHAMP. I don't know, I'm just saying, those are words I've heard. And now I'm just trying to help my home team. I don't have to do this. You know, that's the thing. Here's the thing. Here's the real thing, folks. I don't have to do this. I don't. You know I don't. You all know me. You know I don't have to do this. I could still just be the greatest business mogul in the world. It's a good job. I won't lie. It's good. You've seen my plane, right?! 

But instead, I've decided to use my championship business sense for our country. Can you imagine that? Can you just imagine if our country did as well as my businesses? Can you imagine if I did to our country what I did for television with The Apprentice? You remember NBC before me, right? And now that I'm not there anymore? You hear the jokes. Nobody watches. It's true. It's true. 

But, come on, it's so easy. It's almost too easy. Cause see, like I said, like everyone says, I'm very good. I'm very good at what I do. And now I've decided to make America what I do. Really just imagine it. Cause it's a beautiful thing. It's a beautiful thing, I tell you. 

But, you know, some people are going to try and stop it. I know, I know, boo, boo. But they are, they are. They've already started. They're going to make up things and spread lies and all the stuff that losers do. Like little Ayesha Curry -- Bitter Ayesha -- right, Cleveland? And these losers, they're going to take to Twitter and try and make it seem like they're really winning. And don't get me wrong, I love Twitter. I'm the KING of Twitter! My tweets -- have you read them? They're good. That's all I'm going to say. They're very good. 

But these people, like Bitter Ayesha and Crooked Hillary and Pocahontas Elizabeth Warren, they're going to try to distract people from the real issues with their silly, little tweets. "Delete your account?" So juvenile. So juvenile. And these people are supposed to lead our country. I mean, can you imagine If I left Twitter? People would go crazy! People would, I don't know, maybe revolt, if I left Twitter. They love me. They love my tweets! So good, right?! 

But we all know what's really going on here. We all know what those girls are up to. I mean ladies -- they get so touchy when you don't call them ladies, amiright? Very PC stuff. Right? I'm right, right? You know I'm right. We can't say anything anymore. Everyone's so touchy about everything. Everyone takes offense at everything. You can't use a sherif's badge in a tweet without having people say you're anti-Semitic. Ridiculous -- the Jews love me! Are you kidding me? I have Jew friends. Look at the businesses I'm in! I know lots of Jews. But you can't say anything anymore.

But these losers, cause that's what they are -- and to prove it, they're going to lose in November, just watch -- these losers, they're just trying to distract from what we really need to do in this country. With their Planned Parenthoods and their gun laws. With their political correctness and their sit-ins -- they're just trying to keep us from doing what really needs to be done. 

And that's what losers do. I know. I've seen a lot of them. They're always at the other end of the table when I make my best business moves. So, I know losers. No one knows losers like winners. Right? Am I right? Of course, I am. But that's what losers do. That's all they can do. They can't win so they try to pretend like they're not losers and try to convince the rest of us that they're not losers, too.

But here's the good thing, folks. You've got me. You've got The Donald. You've picked the right team -- the winning team. I'm a winner. That's all there is to it. I'm a winner. I'm THE winner. 

So, I think it's -- it's like fate stepped in or magic, maybe. I don't do the magic but you can ask my good friend Penn Gillett. I bet he'd say it was magic. That here I am -- A Life Champion --in Cleveland, Ohio -- the new American Champion to make America Great Again. You know what it is, I bet Cleveland read The Art of the Deal. It's very good. Very helpful. Amazing for winners! We have some around the convention center. There are tables. It's very good. Cleveland's read it. Then they took their city back.  

So I think that it's perfect that here -- right here -- in CLEVELAND, OHIO, where the tide just turned after 50 years of taking it from these other people -- these people that thought they we're nothing. And here's the thing, folks. That's what all these people think of us. They think we're nothing. They think we're fools. They think they can come here and mess with us and that we won't do anything in return.  And that's what the losers, that's what the losers want us to do. Nothing. Or worse, just hand everything over to them. Can you imagine?

You won't have to if they had their way.

But, guess what, folks? We're gonna do this thing! Cause you've got The Champ. You've got The Winner's Winner, here. And here in the GREAT Cleveland, Ohio, we're going to tell the WORLD that we're back! That America is back! And you know what we're gonna do? We're gonna MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!!!!!!!!"

A Not-So-Modest Proposal

So, I've got a book. I know, shock of all shocks, a blogger wrote a book! Insert shocked emoji here. That's not actually a big surprise, though, as I have other unpublished books and unsold screenplays sitting in my closet. This one is special, though, because it's non-fiction. Anyway, I'm getting prepared to launch my book on Publishizer, which is basically Kickstarter for books. I am so super pumped about this whole process, no matter what happens in terms of raising money. Obviously, I want it to do well. Hell, nothing would make me happier than if I got a visit from the book publishing fairy with a sparkly wand in one hand and a contract in the other. But regardless, when the whole thing is over I'm going to have a much better idea of what my next step is and what people think of it in general. Having said all of that though, I'm also fucking freaked about it. The proposal you submit (provided you complete it at 100%, you technically don't have to) is super comprehensive. And I don't mind that at all. On the contrary, there's a chance to be put in touch with publishers through this process so certainly weed out the people not taking this shit seriously. But, it just makes it very real, ya know. I mean, this isn't something to half-ass. This isn't a term paper or some written final exam for your political science class that you can pretty much wait until the last minute to do and not ruin your life in the process. 

Some of the things have been pretty simple to accomplish. Book overview, check. Short author bio, check. Catchy slug line to draw people to my book, quippy check. Those were fun. I got to do some fun creative writing and let my sarcasm gene take a whack at things. Currently, I'm working on the book list of similar titles, which they should really just call what it is -- a minimum of five book reports. I've got my annotated Table of Contents underway, which is more a feat of endurance than anything else. And then I'm coming up with fun and creative rewards for people who are fucking rad enough to donate which is like getting to choose cool Christmas gifts for the kids in your family. The one that's turning out to be the real bitch of the ball, the real fucker of the farm, the real crapbag of the carousel, is the "About the Author" area, which is different from a bio in that it needs to be much longer and fucking sucks balls to write. 

I'll admit, like a lot of people, I don't hate talking about myself. Fuck, I have a blog, right? But telling the great fairy tale that is me is proving to be a bit of a pain in the everything. For instance, I know that my adolescence was very important in carving out the woman I am today but it's a very delicate and tricky ice dance weaving an interesting and multidimensional coming of age tale in white, Christian suburbia. How exactly do you describe the oppression of living in a town that's 4.5 square miles (of land and 2.5 of fresh Lake Erie water) and has, I shit you not, 6 churches? Does it sound weird? Cause it felt fucking weird. And they're all pretty run-of-the-mill Jesus fan clubs. I'm not judging the churches themselves, I just mean they're denominations we're all pretty familiar with: Catholic, Methodist, Lutheran, Baptist, Presbyterian, and something else I don't remember but can drive you to. And no, the handful of other families residing in our suburb that weren't Christian didn't have any places of worship within town limits to belong to. There wasn't a Mosque and a Synagogue and a Temple next to every church. Just a bake sale. 

Almost everyone in the town was white, too. A fun feature that, I imagine, felt very natural and comfortable to some people but to me just felt...gross and kinda icky. So, I spent the better part of what was really a pretty great childhood bitching at my parents for moving from where they grew up on the east side of Cleveland to the west and to a suburb known as "a great place to grow up": we had good schools (public and Catholic), good sports teams (we mainlined soccer and manufactured pro athletes) and we were safe (until the kidnapping and murder of one student and the fact that The Fugitive is based on real grizzly shit that happened in my town before I was born).

That was fun to read about, wasn't it? 

Exactly. 

So now I'm on something like my 15th draft -- this one surrounding a playlist that reminds me of my best friend, which essentially means it reminds me of why I'm me. I have a feeling this draft isn't going to last much longer, though either. As a matter of fact, I think I've just declared it dead.

Okay, enough stalling. Time to get back to it. This bastard ain't gonna write itself. And since I'm sure you guys are dying to know the title of my satirical masterpiece, it's:

"If You Were An Alien, Would You Want To Live Here? 101 Reasons Why Fearing An Alien Invasion is Absolutely Preposterous and 10 That Kinda Make Sense"

Boom.