Hillary Clinton couldn’t help but gloat…maybe just a little…about her impressive curbstomping of Donald Trump’s credibility as a presidential candidate. Inside the hall at Hofstra she was the consummate professional she always is, but when she was boarding the bus for the trip home, she let out a little soundbyte that must have Lord Cheeto white-knuckled and gnawing on some of that gawdy gold furniture that adorns his penthouse:
Ouch. Yes, it’s true. In case you haven’t heard, The Donald decided to go and blame his horrible performance on the moderator for…moderating…and on his microphone…for some reason.
After careful analysis by a party completely unqualified to decide whether or not there were problems with Trump’s mic, namely myself, I call bullhonkey. The debate went off without a hitch. There were no crackling sounds; Trump wasn’t ever cut out or lost to static. He made no complaints during the debate and nobody from the crew asked to suspend the debate to fix anything.
So, in my completely unprofessional opinion, which is the kind of opinion Donald Trump typically calls on for advice anyway, Trump is full of crap. The problem may be his need to lean in with a nasty look on his face to play bully, which he is plenty good at:
Maybe, Donald, if you would listen to your opponent, come up with a coherent thought and shout a little less you wouldn’t look so foolish and need to blame microphones for your failures. Just a suggestion. But…meh…what do I know?