Trump looking kind of third trimester, hanging with the Queen Donald “Bullshit Machine” Trump got back from a golfing vacation in Europe last week, where he treated people who live in a different time zone to an astonishingly varied collection of prevarications, while being photographed in a formal waistcoat that made him look pregnant.
He said, for example, that the Queen of England had never had a better time in her nearly century of life than she had had in his company, even though it is almost certain that she considered abdicating the throne instead of being forced to meet him. The Queen, like most people in their nineties, enjoys a good poop far more than she enjoys the company of anybody this side of Jesus.
He said he was greeted by cheering crowds, while his motorcade was routed down deserted streets to avoid getting splattered by the milkshakes and the bags of fish guts that the Brits were eager to bestow upon him. He tried to get the Irish Prime Minister to play golf with him, and when he couldn’t, bragged that the forthcoming Brexit would enable Ireland to build a Wall of its own, to keep Irish people from crossing the border into Ireland. Meanwhile, his sons were running up bar tabs in the pubs of Dublin and skipping out on them. When the Queen heard about that, she started counting her silverware. Trust me on this.
He honored the heroes of D-Day by snapping at the Speaker of the House with their graves in the background, because she apparently suggested behind closed doors that he ought to be in prison, because Trump would never stoop so low as to advocate putting someone behind bars without undeniable proof they were guilty of something. At least I think he wouldn’t. Further research may be needed on this subject.
And he told his old buddy Piers Morgan that he couldn’t see banning automatic weapons sales back home, because people use their AR-15’s for “entertainment.”
Even Morgan, graceless suck-up that he was determined to be, was astounded by this, but it’s true. Along with mass shooters, people who open carry to protect the produce aisles at Piggly-Wiggly, people who think that owning a cache of automatic weapons might be necessary if they want to overthrow the government, people who worry about zombie apocalypses or just regular old apocalypses, there are people who buy a thirty-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon on Saturday nights, sit on their front porch, and use their AR-15's to spray bullets into the trees, shredding leaves and occasionally the odd bird or squirrel, pausing only to chug suds and reload, because that’s the way they entertain themselves.
Let’s face it, though—if there’s one thing we have in the USA, it’s entertainment. From loathsome reality TV to high opera, from pie-eating contests to the Super Bowl, we are swamped with opportunities to entertain ourselves, available on everything from our eight-foot wide HD TVs to our cell phones. If you really think you might succumb to existential despair if you can’t drink beer and randomly kill small wildlife creatures, I guess you could be right. But you really ought to try Netflix first.
Or a bug zapper.
He said, for example, that the Queen of England had never had a better time in her nearly century of life than she had had in his company, even though it is almost certain that she considered abdicating the throne instead of being forced to meet him. The Queen, like most people in their nineties, enjoys a good poop far more than she enjoys the company of anybody this side of Jesus.
He said he was greeted by cheering crowds, while his motorcade was routed down deserted streets to avoid getting splattered by the milkshakes and the bags of fish guts that the Brits were eager to bestow upon him. He tried to get the Irish Prime Minister to play golf with him, and when he couldn’t, bragged that the forthcoming Brexit would enable Ireland to build a Wall of its own, to keep Irish people from crossing the border into Ireland. Meanwhile, his sons were running up bar tabs in the pubs of Dublin and skipping out on them. When the Queen heard about that, she started counting her silverware. Trust me on this.
He honored the heroes of D-Day by snapping at the Speaker of the House with their graves in the background, because she apparently suggested behind closed doors that he ought to be in prison, because Trump would never stoop so low as to advocate putting someone behind bars without undeniable proof they were guilty of something. At least I think he wouldn’t. Further research may be needed on this subject.
And he told his old buddy Piers Morgan that he couldn’t see banning automatic weapons sales back home, because people use their AR-15’s for “entertainment.”
Even Morgan, graceless suck-up that he was determined to be, was astounded by this, but it’s true. Along with mass shooters, people who open carry to protect the produce aisles at Piggly-Wiggly, people who think that owning a cache of automatic weapons might be necessary if they want to overthrow the government, people who worry about zombie apocalypses or just regular old apocalypses, there are people who buy a thirty-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon on Saturday nights, sit on their front porch, and use their AR-15's to spray bullets into the trees, shredding leaves and occasionally the odd bird or squirrel, pausing only to chug suds and reload, because that’s the way they entertain themselves.
Let’s face it, though—if there’s one thing we have in the USA, it’s entertainment. From loathsome reality TV to high opera, from pie-eating contests to the Super Bowl, we are swamped with opportunities to entertain ourselves, available on everything from our eight-foot wide HD TVs to our cell phones. If you really think you might succumb to existential despair if you can’t drink beer and randomly kill small wildlife creatures, I guess you could be right. But you really ought to try Netflix first.
Or a bug zapper.
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