The eighth of November 2016 is D-Day. It marks the end of 600 days of our lives we will never get back. If you still haven't decided, make your vote count by forgetting everything intelligent that you have absorbed over the past 14,400 hours of relentless campaigning and base your choice solely on the following Trump-infested paragraphs.
Donald Trump needs no introduction. His hair has its own Twitter account. Like Marmite, you either love him or hate him (with your toast). Yet, the billionaire is hiding a dirty (and greasy) secret. It is truly game-changing. Behind his lavish lifestyle and captivatingly coiffed hair festers an overwhelming desire for fast food.
I bet that revelation felt like a sucker punch to the gut. Had you taken comfort and solitude in the fact that you had absolutely zero in common with Donald Trump? So at odds with his elitist image, surely Trump would not succumb to a Big Mac and fries?
“At least you know what you’re getting,” he proclaimed to Jimmy Fallon. Good to see Trump values honesty and transparency, it's a pity it does not extend to his tax returns.
It is certainly questionable why Trump’s Twitter feuds have received overwhelmingly more coverage than his general health and diet. Why should the public care about something as trivial as the health of the potential US President, when he just burned another celebrity on Twitter?
Is his love for fast food all a con? It could very well be. However, the important question remains—does he want a large fries with that? In all seriousness though, does the fact that Trump eats like one of the common folk (admittedly, after a night out) change your opinion of him? Does it make him more relatable, or warrant giving his campaign a second look to see if there is in fact anything substantial beneath the absurd window-dressing?
I would compare Trump’s fondness for a Filet-o-Fish to Frank Underwood’s similar love of ribs in House of Cards, but this would risk complimenting Trump. Instead, I will simply point out that most photos of him basking in said food are taken on his private jet. I think that says it all.
Regardless of whether the image of Trump horsing into a king-sized bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken makes you weak at the knees (for a variety of reasons), his love of fast food actually fits perfectly into his brand.
It reflects who he is. He's like the convenient, tasty food that looks attractive under the fluorescent drive-thru lights but leaves you feeling kind of guilty and hungry after an hour.
Do you regret it? In the short term, it filled the gap. You were always going to pick it over the fibrous, safe salad next to it (sorry, Hillary). In the long term, though? You certainly won’t thank yourself for the flattering muffin top and high blood pressure next summer.