The dreaded P-word

Yrs Trly has finally figgered The Donald’s P-word.
It’s in the 11-year-old recording of The Donald reflecting his opinion of women.
The TV-News plays it over-and-over, and every time The Donald gets to the P-word, the networks bleep it, and substitute P****.
I decided it’s “privates,” although that ain’t what I think it actually is.
This blog believes in taste and decorum, apparently more so than The Donald.
Every time I hear it, I think “For cryin’ out loud, Donald. I’ve made too many female friends by not grabbing their privates.”
Of course, I ain’t a billionaire.
Is that what it takes; lust for demeaning all-and-sundry?
If this is what “Making America great again” means, a return to barbarism, pillage, and intimidation, I don’t want it.
I make it a point to not discuss politics or religion in this blog. I don’t wanna lose friends — I expect to lose friends over this blog.
But I worry about our country; that our 240-year experiment with democracy may be drawing to a close.
Can anyone reunite us? Perhaps the Russkies or Kim Jong Un.
Not Hillary. Not when so many want her in prison.
The other day I passed a lawn-sign altered to read “Hillary for prison.”
The honkies may be so mad they rebel. Sidearms unleashed.
Stoked by Limbaugh and The Donald, although I think Limbaugh has been Trumped.