I’m in a restaurant at a big table with some friends and Donald Trump and a couple of his people. He’s obnoxious, talking shit and then he gets out a big knife. He’s vaguely threatening me so I grab onto the knife to show I’m not afraid. We grapple. I have more force but my positioning across the table from him is awkward. Plus, he has the handle. I push the blade close to him and then he lifts it to his forehead and presses it in, drawing a horizontal bead of blood, a few inches long, on his third eye. He makes it look like I did it. I say aloud, “I didn’t do that.” I’m aware I could get into very big trouble. We have to move. My party goes to the host and asks for a table of 12. The restaurant is busy and we’ll have to wait. I notice some of the female waiters are full bodied and naked. They are both protesting and imitating Trump. We get our table and Trump is at it again. I sit as far away from him as I can, on the diagonal, him on one corner, me opposite.

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I am running for president against Donald Trump- and I am not afraid of him in the slightest. I see him for what he is as can name that out loud. He leaves me taunting phone messages which see stupid and childish to me. I will be speaking out tomorrow against him and plan to annihilate him with the truth. I am not scared about what he might do to me because I have nothing to lose.

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I am in Montana or someplace very rural with Chris Pratt, and our kids and families. Chris Pratt and I are becoming great friends. He has spent all of his money, he lives with his parents.

At some point, in a lodge, I have a temper tantrum about Trump, and the evening becomes very uncomfortable – I’ve yelled out that NYC NJ, and California pay more to the federal government than they receive, and they therefore provide all of the “fly over states” with resources. That the mid-west is the one in a goddamn bubble.