The inevitable has happened. You’ve elected a handsy traffic pylon with bad cholesterol as the president of this country. I’m not one to point fingers but, seeing as I’m now typing this from a bunker one mile underground while I raise an army of women deemed sixes and below, this is your fault. But it happens. One of Italy’s longest serving prime ministers was a misogynistic bedazzled can of beef ravioli. Before I get down to brass tacks, I want you to know that you still have some time. Get out while you can. Overlord Trump doesn’t outlaw trial by…