Each time I see a picture of Donald Trump there is a sort of chubby guy standing next to him with a blank look that is either total indifference or how do I make my daddy like me. So, I decided to take a long voyage through the body of Chris Christie in search of the lost soul of the man, assuming that he once had soul to lose. It was a perilous journey over broke bridges of fat covered in chocolate syrup that extended for miles.
Me: So, Chris, how come you are now for the man two months ago you claimed was unfit to be president?
Chris: Now, Fred, I would appreciate if you would delete any comments that I once made about the red headed guy who shouts even louder than I do.
Me: Now, Chris, no one, and I mean no one can outdo you when it comes to ranting and raving nonsense. How about the bridge that was closed and you didn’t know anything about it?
Chris: Fred, let’s face reality. I couldn’t get elected as dog catcher in the state of New Jersey, so what’s left? I’d rather shine the boots of Donald than be completely ignored by the media. See, now, even you want my opinion!
Me: Well, in all honesty Chris, you are and have always been a rather heavy guy to cover. But, the key thing is now you DO have a mission in life. Stand next to the ranter and listen to his nonsense knowing full well, when it comes to ranting nonsense, no one can outdo the great, and I do mean, great, Chris Christie.
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