Ethan Miller/Getty Images

While I was in Target a couple weeks ago, getting Diaper Genie bags and seeing if the latest issue of EBONY Magazine was there yet, The Wife Person texted me, asking me to pick up some bananas. I usually don't buy produce at Target; preferring to buy my fruits and meats and veggies at Giant Eagle or Whole Foods. But, I was there already, so I just decided to get the bananas there too.

They looked and felt fine in the store. But when I got home and opened one, it was already browning. As was the next one I opened. And the next one. And the next one. One had even begun to disintegrate. So, I just threw the entire batch away. I obviously didn't do a good enough job of inspecting them at Target, and while the waste of money was annoying, it was less annoying than the stomachache after eating bad bananas would have been.

I thought about those bananas last night while watching the GOP Debate. Because the entire field is either delusional or deprived or some awkward conglomeration of both, and we need to get rid of them all. These aren't just brown bananas. This is peeling open the banana skins to reveal a seven-inch-long log of shit. At least John McCain had some nobility and integrity beneath his perpetual thousand yard stare. And while Mitt Romney was a soulless and colorless corporate sycophant — the human equivalent of corn syrup — he at least seemed competent. Like he would have ran America like the world's largest Williams Sonoma. But these motherfuckers now? My goodness. To call them a horror show would be an insult to boogeymen, clowns, Candyman, undercooked poultry, Peter Gunz, and everything else that produces and induces horror. I know I said this already, but it bears repeating: Every. Single. One. of them is either deformed or deranged. Or both.

There's John Kasich and his distractingly tiny hands. Ben Carson who speaks and acts like he just woke from a nap after performing a self-lobotomy. Marco Rubio, the Cuban-American Billy Zabka. Darth Bitchass himself, Jeb Bush. Seriously, how many times do you think Jeb Bush has been in the Friends Zone? 17? 26? 104? Everything about him screams "The guy his crush calls to get her to take her to Ikea to replace the bed her fuck buddy helped her break last night." This man is a human Styrofoam futon. There's Rand Paul, who I'm 70% certain is hiding in the trunk of my car right now. Ted Cruz, who totally killed a guy in a Waffle House bathroom in the summer of '92. There's a zero percent chance Ted Cruz has not murdered people in bathrooms before. And a 97% chance his name was stolen from one of the people he strangled. This motherfucker has a history of violence. Chris Christie, who's just here for the free WiFi and the post-debate buffets. And I refuse to believe Carly Fiorina is an actual human and not a character Kristen Wiig invented when she was auditioning for SNL.

And of course, there's the clown show wrangler himself, Donald Trump. It is beyond fascinating — and beyond depressing — that no one on that stage last night has any chance of beating him. The Republican party is so desperate — their platform so dejected; their base so demented — that they've given up on actual humans and resorted to trusting a spider monkey with a Hollywood Tans membership with the keys to their caravan.

Advertisement

And no, I wasn't completely serious in the title, when I suggested that this caravan needs to be driven off a bridge. Because that would be murder, and murder is wrong. But let's say that, instead of a bridge over water or land, this was a bridge that just sat over a bottomless pit. And they were pushed off of that bridge. It wouldn't be murder anymore. Because they'd just keep falling forever, right?