So I received this e-mail earlier today …
Which, of course, is absolutely awesome. I mean, “friend”? Me? I’m Hillary Clinton’s friend? Holy holy holy shit! She’s the likely 45th president of the United States, and I’m just some guy. So, of course, I’ll share my birthday with you, Madam Secretary. I’d love to receive a card. I’ll just click on the red GET A NOTE prompt and …
Seriously, this is otherworldly! Hillary always remembers a birthday? I also always remember a birthday (well, my birthday). Hillary would like to send me a personal note on my special day? I’d LOVE a personal note on my special day! That would be un-fucking-believable! Yes, please!
So, of course, I’ll give all the information you need.
Here’s my e-mail address!
Here’s my zip!
I was born on April 22!
OK, I’m ready to GET MINE!
CLICK!
Um, wait. I’m sorta confused. See, I don’t really want to give you money right now. Because, you know, there’s climate change, famine, starvation, global warming, the Salvation Army, the Red Cross, the Boy Scouts, the Girl Scouts, MS, AIDS, on and on. Soooooo many places need help, hence I’ll pass right now on donating. I guess I’ll just type “0” in OTHER AMOUNT and then …
Um, this is confusing. It won’t let me not donate this time. It insists I give money. Lemme try again …
Nope.
Again?
Nope.
Again?
Nope
Somewhere in America, there are real-life people who think Hillary Clinton truly wants to wish them a happy birthday, just as there are people who will continue to support Donald Trump even when we inevitably learn that he’s a Nazi-sympathizing drunkard who shot JFK and dated Marge Schott.
We’re just suckers, along for the ride.
Dammit.
