Debate Night

So... it's the night of the first Clinton/Trump debate. Ugh, I get the feeling that it will be a slog and a slugfest. As a fighter, my opinion is that Clinton's first order of business is to get Trump off of his balance, which is never stable to begin with. If I had been on Hillary's debate prep team, I would have shown her the cool, unflappable Miss May Whitley in all of her glory:





Rattle Trump's cage, flat out state that he's out of his league, that he's none-too-bright. Pin the 'trust fund kid' moniker on him and drop a joke about him being unable to make money on casino gambling on a virtual monopoly in an Atlanta-to-Portsmouth sprawl that housed millions and millions of people at the time. Put succinctly, paint him as a failure, boosted by daddy's money and a congeries of iridescent globes scams that targeted the naive and desperate. In a fight, one should aim for one's opponent's vulnerable spot, and Trump's is the facade that he has maintained, that of a successful businessman.

I'm going to be finishing work at 9PM, and will listen to the first minutes of debate in the car, then go over to a friend's house for pizza and beer. Luckily, it's not a drinking game, don't need to get sloppy.