Christ, wow! THAT is a story. I had just been thinking of the immortal line from Moonstruck where Loretta and Johnny are breaking up— “In time, you’ll see that this is best.” / “In time, you’ll drop dead, and I’ll come to your funeral in a red dress!”— but I didn’t think it was something people actually DID.

After reading these tweets, I wish it was me that they threw off that roof.

I really don’t think that’s true. He loves being president, he just doesn’t like doing the work. 

Either put your money where your mouth is or stop saying dumb stuff.

I, for one, want him to live along enough to be the first American president ever impeached and removed from office. He can then die in disgrace.

I sometimes wonder if they’ll have to bury him at sea, not because people would want to make a shrine of his grave, but because they may actually want to dig up his rotten corpse to shit directly on his face rather than just piss on his grave.

I will wear my shortest, reddest dress to his funeral

Why does it matter that they are Muslims?

Well I hate him being President even more than he does.

You’re right. We should all be as rigid and humorless as you.

Can the real president of twitter just pull the plug on the whole fucking toxic platform all ready? Please? Pretty please?

If you support Donald Trump or the Republican party in anyway you are an evil person.

Phew!

Woah, that’s a lucky cancellation!

I am terrified of fire, and that has led me to be weirdly fascinated by disasters like Cocoanut Grove. Lots of common architectural and design features are the result of catastrophic fires; for example, clearly marked “EXIT” signs, exterior doors that open outward instead of inward, and “panic bars” that open doors…

Yas!

Considering that she used to be a “model,” I have never seen a person so unable to act like a human being.

My 8 year-old dances in The Nutcracker. it takes up every weekend from 1 October through Christmas. It’s Pure insanity. She loves it, and that’s what really matters, but it is indeed madness. Her last performance is on the afternoon of Christmas Eve where we won’t leave the theatre until 6pm. It’ll be home for dinner,…

Me too, just one. May be we are going to the same party :)

That’s tough.