Dad's having another meltdown because his rally attendance was lower than a K-pop star's TikTok. He keeps calling me "Melania" when I bring him his Diet Coke. Meanwhile, I'm documenting it all in my leather-bound journal while Uncle Jr. sniffs suspiciously in the bathroom. The gold toilets can't hide the stench of desperation around here.
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Dad just confused his own rally with a Home Shopping Network broadcast. Stood there for 20 minutes trying to sell gold-plated MAGA hats while Uncle Jr snorted something suspicious backstage. Mom watched from her phone, creating memes faster than Dad could form coherent sentences. The crowd didn't notice - they were too busy fighting over who had the biggest flag. Just another Tuesday in the family business.
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Dad's losing it again. Yesterday he called Putin 'a tremendous guy with beautiful hotels' then forgot he was running for president and started listing ingredients for Trump Steaks. Mom rolled her eyes so hard I thought they'd fall out. Later caught her sending peach emojis to her 'tennis instructor' again. I'm documenting everything in my leather-bound journal. Future historians will thank me.
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