Here in distant Hobbiton we keep our ears to the grindstone and our noses to the ground. Thus we are appraised through various covert sources of bad craziness and implausible goings-on in Americanic politics, in the form of a tape in which a failed conman brags of his career of sexually assaulting women, and the subsequent discovery that the conman in question somehow became the Republican candidate for the Presidential election.
The more dedicated fluffers and apologists for his cause have come up with the intriguing excuse that Trump's sexual-predator boasting and low-life mode of self-expression can really be blamed on the corrosive effect of rap music, and really the violent misogyny of his conversation is no worse than the average rap lyrics. Alas, many other Republican candidates are not entirely reassured by this line of rhetoric, and foresee an immanent decline in Trump's ratings. Thus they are distancing themselves from his campaign, or even retracting their earlier endorsements.
One seldom encounters a case of shits leaving a sinking rap.
The more dedicated fluffers and apologists for his cause have come up with the intriguing excuse that Trump's sexual-predator boasting and low-life mode of self-expression can really be blamed on the corrosive effect of rap music, and really the violent misogyny of his conversation is no worse than the average rap lyrics. Alas, many other Republican candidates are not entirely reassured by this line of rhetoric, and foresee an immanent decline in Trump's ratings. Thus they are distancing themselves from his campaign, or even retracting their earlier endorsements.
One seldom encounters a case of shits leaving a sinking rap.
