Might As Well Face It, I'm Addicted To Trump

      Yesterday as soon as I got home from work I hurried to my computer and quickly turned it on.  I wasn't in a rush to check my email, my Facebook,  or the weather forecast: I knew well what I was jonesing for:  The latest on Donald Trump.

     This past week the online news has been a veritable treasure trove of Trump theatrics of the absurd, every few hours offering another scandalous,

​...shocking,

...appalling,

​
​...obnoxious,

​...or just plain weird new episode.

     I've become hooked to "The Trump Show:  All Trump, All The Time!",

  ...mine for the inhaling at the click of my computer mouse.

      Nor am I the only one with a Trump addiction.

   For the past few mornings  when
our two daily newspapers arrive Tom and I have been jockeying for the front sections.  We've got to have   our Donald fix with our cereal.

     And there's been plenty to pass back and forth.

       In truth, this isn't funny.  It is within the realm of possibility that this train wreck I can't stop watching could go chugging to the White House and put our country in the hands of a modern-day Caligula.

   For those for whom the name doesn't ring a bell, Caligula was the  extravagant,  psychotic Roman Emperor who
kept his subjects alternately entertained by his hijinks and terrified by his tantrums,

...until his elite Pretorian Guard said "Enough, already!" and put him out of everybody's misery,

​...replacing him with Claudius,  who was an exponentially less entertaining but far more sensible and productive   leader.

    I think I need an intervention.  The day after November 8.