During the Patriots vs. Jets game last night, the freshly whipped meringue of stale hair on Donald Trump’s prune head hypnotized the camera for a few seconds. It was in the spirit and trying to do the wave but the dude on its right failed to keep it going. Sad. You know what else is sad? That Trump’s “on the verge of flight” hair reminds me of a lonely plastic bag trying to freely dance in the wind but can’t due to a half-empty pack of Nutter Butters anchoring it down. It wants to be like that scene in American Beauty. Depressing. It’s like Trump’s scalp tried to fire his follicles but they refused to go IN THIS ECONOMY. Depressing times two. On a happy note, at least Trump’s hairline finally got some fucking oxygen.