DC Trawler

Mike Pence Learns What It Means To Be Trump’s VP Pick

REUTERS/Brendan McDermid

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It means you have to stand next to the man while he spews crazy stream-of-consciousness word salad about whoever has hurt his ego the most at that particular millisecond. And more importantly, it means being able to control every muscle in your face so you don’t become a meme like Chris “Always a Bridesmaid” Christie.

I think Mike does a terrific job of it here:

Congratulations, Republicans.

This really is the best VP pick Trump could’ve made, because the job plays to Pence’s biggest strength: being boring. You might as well put a houseplant next to The Donald while he’s ranting about Lee Harvey Oswald, 12 hours after accepting the GOP nomination. Pence is just a complete blank. Zip. Zero. Nada. There’s nothing there. He is definitely the man for the job.

Or maybe Pence is just having an out-of-body experience. Complete dissociation from reality. “This is not happening to me. I am not here. This is not real. I will wake up, and I’ll be back home safe and sound, and I’ll turn on the news and it’ll be Gingrich or Christie or some other sucker standing next to this raving lunatic right now. Please God, I will do anything you ask, just rescue me from this nightmare.”

I genuinely feel bad for the guy, because if you flipped the ticket, I’d have no problem voting for it. Trump could serve the same purpose that Biden serves now. Pence wouldn’t even need Secret Service protection. But alas, Pence/Trump is not to be.

You sold your soul, Mike. Fortunately, you won’t be needing it.

P.S. Or maybe it’s just a buttload of Xanax.