You really need to read the New York Times Bestseller, Everything Trump Touches Dies: A Republican strategist gets real about the worst president ever, by the New York Times Best Selling Author Rick Wilson.
Also, as you desperately roll challenges like a dice junky in one of Trump’s failed casinos, you should consider the definition of the word irony.
I’ve been in those musky, desperation filled casinos (that no longer exist because Trump is such a spectacular, colossal lack of success that he managed to fail at operating a rigged business at a profit) and they smell just like Trumper message board posts.
Donald didn’t run his casinos with even the thin veneer of the family friendliness of modern Vegas. The Trump Taj Mahal in Atlantic City was a humid, grim dump fleecing seniors of their Social Security, just like Jesus preached in the Gospel of Skeeze. It looked, felt, and smelled like a strip club–cum–low-stakes roadside casino. Every surface was sticky, and you did not want to know why. I can’t recall which book of the Bible says, “Thou shalt take Granny’s Social Security check and collect it for the lord’s slot machines.