Henri is my spirit animal.
Poor Mrs. Mitt. After 40+ years of back-breaking momming, the woman has earned the right to kick back and take it easy. And she could, too, if it weren’t for her husband’s compulsive need to cross “Be President!” off his bucket list.
So Mrs. Mitt is forced to endure serial humiliations, one of the worst of which must surely be the obligation to interact socially with a vulgar, embarrassing blowhard like Donald Trump. [...] And, because even though Trump was born rich, he somehow managed to avoid acquiring the good taste and manners that often make our plutocrats seem less overtly monstrous than they actually are, he exposed poor Mrs. Mitt to maximum tackiness, including a sugary image of herself astride a sugary Austrian Warmblood dancing horse, thus inviting unflattering comparisons between Mrs. Mitt and Marie Antoinette…
Also, you must pronounce ‘dressage’ correctly — like Mitt pronounces it, please. Dress-AAUJJH. Which doesn’t bother me — it’s the base voters of his party that seem to have muy problemos with the French and French things. (Freedom fries!)