At the time I posted, I was just being a Smart Aleck; after all, I was in the mode of ridiculing the idea that a pic from a photo-op taken long ago has anything to do with reality. [A position, apparently to the chagrin of the Trumpbots, that I maintain. I have no informed opinion about The Donald. I'm waiting for the debates and for opinions from all of the candidates except Lindsey Graham and Crispy Creme on a variety of issues.]
However, as the mind tends to organize random bits of information into a coherent whole, I am now deeply suspicious of you.
Consider:
The attempt on President Reagan's life was made on my birthday; I need to work that fact into my theory but as yet have no idea how. It's still early on a Saturday night -- at least for me. But I imagine many of these issues will begin to resolve themselves more clearly once I start drinking.
In the mean time... what are you feelings about Jodie Foster?
“In the mean time... what are you feelings about Jodie Foster?”
Dammit! How dare you involve my true love in your delusional conspiracy theories!