Thereafter, Mr Trump’s appeal is described in glowing terms that might not necessarily chime with the feelings of the many supporters who have attended his campaign rallies.
“My loins trembled as the scent of toupee adhesive and spray tan swept through my nasal cavity,” the smitten narrator recounts. “It was him. It was Donald! He stood there in front of me, like a tall stallion. With his oily orange skin glistening in the sunlight as if he were a soggy cheeto [sic], his hair unkept and messy, like a gorgeous rat’s nest. He was beautiful.”
Although whoever could keep their gorge down long enough to write about Hillary in such terms will probably deserve their royalties.