Trump, his father and Alzheimer’s disease

Trump, his father and Alzheimer’s disease

We start once more, damn it, the text having flown into limbo.
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Already the registration number was unavailable in all respects during the exercise of squatting the presidency.

If in the past certain psychiatrists have expressed their opinions regarding the mental health of the number regarding a certain probability of a personality pathology hindering his abilities, we would often refer to a problem of the narcissistic perverse type, an illness listed in the DSM. A sort of big red light that flashes.

Having a problem of this kind in your immediate environment is in itself a perpetual drain of energy from your own mental health and whose treatment results are infinitely barely perceptible. Knowledge in a presidential position is a national, if not global, security danger. Point bar.

Here we change register or add a layer. The Washington Post talks regarding the potential for Alzheimer’s, a degenerative disease, which rightly scares ordinary mortals by its finality and the decline that accompanies it.

The Washington Post seems to me, here and now, to be opening another offensive to counter any accession. Of course we are trying here to join the said moderates, the zombies being irrecoverable.

Already his delusions, his verbal diarrhea, his lies, his fraudulent activities in the private sector and in state affairs, his pathological grandiloquence, his racist, misogynistic remarks, violence, his legally recognized deviant sexual aggressive behavior , amply disqualify him. A non-exhaustive list. Don’t add any more, the yard is full.

In terms of impact on his number, the Washington Post announces his own demise in the imminent, if not too distant, future. He is told that he will be the loser of the lot, the ultimate insult for him. I am announcing that the level of ketchup will go up terribly by a few meters. Nothing once morest him drowning in it.

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I too have been switching names since I got older. I want to talk regarding going with the snowblower but my mouth says mower, washer, my mouth says vacuum cleaner. It has the gift of enraging me. But on the other hand, I want to be lenient with myself. I tell myself that my brain is like a hard drive with maximum memory capacity. He needs to prune certain information in order to discuss either the essentials or the new ones. This is normal and beneficial for our mental health. Imagine what storage capacity we would need if we had to remember what we ate for lunch on March 21, 1999!

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