Oh, It's On!

"You're the puppet!" "No, you're the puppet!"       

                                     

In anticipation of our lunch today at Islands, our favorite giggle spot in the S.O., Shelley D. made the following suggestion via text: "Should we stage a mock debate? I'll be the Donald." "You know he doesn't like to be mocked," I texted back. "Is that a no?" "I didn't say that."

"Scared of losing?" she needled. "How dare you!" "So it's on?" "Oh, it's so on." Is it ever. What Shelley D. doesn't know is how seriously I've taken this challenge. I've flown in experts on my private SJG jet. I've read stuff. I've cooked up some tasty zingers. I'm ready to rumble as our next president, God willing. I'm planning to dress the part, assuming I can find a flattering pants suit in time. Let's do this, girlfriend. Be afraid. Be very afraid. Winner takes all the fries. That's right. You heard me. All of them.