Vegas baby. 110 degrees Fahrenheit. Even the shade will melt your ass. But it’s nothing compared to the D.C. heat wave. A perfect storm of dust, tornado, swamp gas, and hot air. Trump has a Jewish problem. And it’s not Cohen.

Who the hell is Jeff Epstein. He looks like a true slime bag. He also looks like every pimp running his herd of hookers. But he seems to be a little too much into the product. Sell some, keep a lot. Or perhaps he is simply a humanitarian who selflessly shares a few hits with his pals. Trump is known to be or have been a pal. Awkward. And now Jeff will cool his heels in the slammer. Even though he clearly has sufficient liquid assets to buy his way out. Could be prosecutors have a much higher purpose in mind. And it may already be paying dividends. Jeff has hinted that his client list, um friends, will be made public. This of course to save himself. In the long list of cowards currently in power, he is the very small, rotting fish. After all, it’s easy to be a big tough brave macho guy when your target audience is 14 years and younger.

Trump fans take note…he’s coming for your daughters. And if you think that’s disgusting, he has probably had carnal knowledge in ways much easier to overlook than to admit or acknowledge. Because once you say, yeah maybe, willful blindness is no longer an option.

This shell game on steroids is designed to exhaust and befuddle the carnival goers. Even though we know the games are rigged, we keep handing over dollar bills. The biggest, bestest prizes are way up on the top shelf, but you know, if you’re going to play you want the best payout. Trump believers are clear about what they want. It’s the rest of us who are conflicted.

A round of Gatorade for my friends.