There Are FOUR Lights, Douchebag!
Like Madred, Trump simply keeps repeating his completely unfounded conclusions as fact over and over. I wonder if Rattensperger at some point in the conversation started to believe that maybe there were five lights. I wonder how tempting it would be to cave in just to get the man to stop talking.
When Ali, Casey, and I were in college down in central Illinois, we lived in this great place just a block off campus. It was situated at the top of a hill overlooking the town smack dab in the middle of Greek Row, snuggled between the Beta and SAE houses—a modest, three-bedroom house with a front porch and back patio, and yard that made it ideal for barbecues and other themed or not themed parties.