Look. You’re just a bad feminist for suggesting that a woman who has derived every ounce of her relevance as a public figure from marrying a low-IQ aging frat boy from an important family isn’t supremely qualified to serve as the chief executive of this great nation. She majored in theater and international relations at a VERY good midwestern university (Oxford who? Cambridge what?); plus, she fetched coffee at some American embassy for a few weeks because the uncle she later ignored had some good connections or whatever. Credentials! (Shh. We won’t mention that she didn’t score well enough on the civil service exam to become an actual diplomat. She’s still the most smartest princess ever!) I mean. Yeah, she arguably committed perjury in a court of law through dishonest filings, but, like, that was outside the United States, where things don’t count, and she had PREGNANCY BRAIN, YOU GUYS. Women can’t be expected to function like normal humans while gestating a large parasitic creature in their uteri! In fact, they shouldn’t even be allowed to drive a car or have an important job while so hormonal and, most of all, forgetful. Wait … Right, feminism. Megs can totally be president. Imagine her amazing calligraphic signature scrawling the words, Princess Pearl HRH President Meghan, the Duchess of Sussex, Lady of the Tig. The country’s presidential seal will be artfully combined with her coat of arms by HRH President Megs herself because she’s good at literally everything. Perhaps the invitations to the inaugural ball can feature her First Husband in his Nazi uniform! She’ll throw boiling tea at the WH staff during cabinet meetings. She’ll be surrounded by massive security everywhere she goes, meaning she’ll be super duper important, and she won’t have to sue anyone or pay out of pocket for all that photogenic security. She’ll have the BEST weave since our presidents wore powdered wigs … Yeah, anyone earnestly suggesting she should be president is not sober.
