“Let’s party like it’s 2017,” the girl says, pulling a man with scented facial hair in by his borderline-ironic bow tie. “I want to stay up until the Trump tweets.”
While many in Trump’s immediate circle of indictable aides wish he would abstain from composing half-baked, half-worded missives in the early hours of the morning – the sort that have landed him in significant covfefe over the last few weeks, through a stubborn belief that the world needs to hear from him at 4:30 AM, Donald Trump has become the new standard by which many American’s measure the segue of night to day.
“Swimming practice is killing me,” said one mother standing outside a Starbucks at 5:30 AM on a muggy weekday morning, “Six days a week we’re up at two Trump tweets past four, and if we aren’t moving by the third, little Jimmy has to do extra laps for being late. It’s absolutely exhausting.”
Also, in an adjustment that has yet to receive FAA approval, many airports have amended their fly-time rules to be based on the timing of the president’s communiques. And in a particularly odd switcheroo, many farmer’s are now reporting that their cockerels don’t bother looking outside for the cue to crow in the morning, but simply set an alert on their phones to tell them when @realdonaldtrump fires up.