Coming to terms with Bush trumping Donald

I’ve been writing this column since Bill Clinton lied about a blow job in the Oval Office, spurring my sister to write her doctoral thesis about the role of the special prosecutor, then Kenneth Starr.

Happy days. Now it’s Robert Mueller, who would undoubtedly find misplaced cigars and throwing an intern under the world’s media bus a joyful respite from the Trumpian hellscape that he has been appointed to excavate; you know things are bad when you find yourself thinking almost fondly about George Dubya Bush.

We misunderestimated just how bad things could get. The current occupant at the White Supremacist House makes Dubya seem like Obama, and Obama like Mandela. Dear God.