Why is my eye twitching?

My God, it's been going on for, oh, I don’t know… three years now? Yeah, that’s it. This weird, awful spasm... Doctor, can you help me? Well, no, I don’t think I can really pinpoint when it started. Must have been… hm, let’s see… November 8, 2016. In the evening. Yes, I believe it was right around then. I had a glass of wine after dinner and sat down to watch TV and… Say, wasn’t that around the time the world went to shit?

Anyway. So, why the holy heck is my eye twitching? It can’t have anything to do with the six cups of coffee I had this morning, ‘cause that’s half my normal amount. Our Honorable Leader Trump rationed my household with two coffee slips a day, which I’ll admit is rather generous, but how can they expect me to fill my daily fake news quota on two coffees? I have to steal the extra rations from my child’s babysitter. I mean, I don’t care if they work for the government, cyborgs don’t need that much coffee, do they?

And why the fudgeberry apples is my arm twitching? I’ve been working at Trump Media for two and half years, ever since the fact-checker jobs at all the news orgs got outsourced. (I mean, that is what happened, isn’t it?) So I applied to be a TM reporter and got the job. Well, my position is officially called ‘FNG’, for Fake News Generator, but it’s the same thing. Oh yeah, my arm twitch. Yeah, what I’m saying is, I’m a professional, a skilled FNG, and I'm used to typing all day, so I don’t see why I should be so twitchy all the time. Doctor, can you help me?

Also, my hair is falling out. Why in the name of Hitler's prostate is my hair falling out? I noticed on my way home from work — I was cramming, I’ll admit, I’ve been trouble filling my Twitter rant quota too, so I was ragefully tweeting and I wasn’t looking, and — whoosh! — a TrumPatrol car just whizzed past me. Missed me by inches! A loose chunk of hair blew away, right off of my little head, just like that. Haha!

Oh, why was the TrumPatrol car there? Well, between you and me, I’ll be honest with you, I live not too far from the Gayborhood. Everyone tells me I shouldn’t feel safe, especially after VP Pence officially named The Gays as Public Enemy #1. But honestly, ever since they replaced local police departments with TrumPatrol and stationed them around all the government-sanctioned Safe Spaces, you know, I feel no threat to my life whatsoever. (And also, between you and me, let’s keep this a secret, but I used to be good friends with some of the folks who live there now. But that was back when, you know, America wasn’t so great. Oh, you live by the one with the Muslims? Yeah, some of my old friends are in there too! Good times, good times.... But not great, you know?)

Anyway, Doctor, honestly, if you can’t help me with this eye twitch, no one can. I’ve been so stressed out. Healthcare costs a limb nowadays — no like, literally, I have to chop off my left leg to pay for this consultation. I shouldn't be this stressed, should I? Everything's as it should be... Better, even! Everything's awesome! Everything's great! Right?