Trump is entering the heritage phase of his Presidency and, apparently under the delusion that he will be remembered as Lincoln, Washington or JFK-esque instead of a lowlife scungeball who was lied into office by Fox News, is trying to put his name on everything he can before his term runs out, or that blood clot finally moves from his cankle to his brain.
He is unaware that the Trump Ballroom will inevitably be torn down the second he starts his sojourn in Hell and the East Wing restored so that the White House will continue to resemble the building on the money. The Arc de Trump, now only in the planning stages, will stay that way. He was just booed out of the stadium he wants named after him over the weekend, so much so that preliminary designs for it call for ample public toilets on the outside of the building, in an effort to satisfy the hygienic needs of the tourists who will come to piss on it if the Trump name goes on top.
None of this will keep Trump from going on a self-naming frenzy, especially since the newly-elected Mayor of New York is rumored to have plans to rename Times Square “Epstein Alley” and Long Island Sound the “Gulf of Obama,” as soon as he takes office. Here’s a sample list of what Trump could name after himself before his heart seizes up:
J D VANCE AND ERIKA KIRK’S FIRST CHILD: Hey, we know there already is a Donald Trump, Jr., and nobody’s begging to have another one. But a Donald Trump Vance Kirk Jr.? Yeah, nobody wants one of them, either.
THE APPALACHIAN MOUNTAINS: Even though they have nothing to do with Trump, besides being a reliable source of votes, the exercise adverse President has never set foot upon them, and they have existed since Pangea split apart, Trump would naturally love to have them named after him. These mountains are everything Trump is not—serene, beautiful and quiet. Which they will continue to be, even after they are renamed Cliffs O’Trump, Hills of the Poorly Educated, or the Hoax Mountains.
CHESAPEAKE BAY: The Trump Trough, Waters of Trumpland, Bay of MAGA—all good names for the watery heart of the East Coast, even though Trump has never been photographed on a boat in his life, probably because he pukes like a baby choking on formula every time he boards a watercraft, and the salt water winds and his hair are deadly enemies.
ANY RANDOM STATE IN THE DEEP SOUTH: Fuck remembering how many s’s there are, and where they go in Mississippi. The state of Trump! With its capital of Ivanka!
AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER: This is almost inevitable for any Republican President, since the Navy quit naming its carriers after famous military battles (the Lexington, the Yorktown) and starting naming them after people who signed off on the money to build them (the Reagan, the Gerald Ford). Usually, they wait until after that President is dead, or demented enough that he might as well be. Trump qualifies on the second count, and can sit by, napping with pride, as the champagne is broken over its bow by his own surly former Slovenian prostitute First Lady.
AIRPORTS GALORE: From any drug-smuggling dirt runway in South Texas to bustling international hubs currently named after lesser Presidents, the pilots of private jets carrying billionaires and their teenage dates back from island fun will wipe a tear from their eye as they vector in to runways newly renamed after the First Pedophile.
Hardly an exhaustive list, but I’m out of coffee and need to walk the dog. Trump will think of more, and so will Mike Johnson. The burst of creative bottom-smooching from the Republican Congress when they realize that lipping Trump’s hiney is as easy as naming things after him will only be exceeded by the Democrats renaming them when he loses the next election or starts paying back the deal with Satan that got him The Apprentice in the first place.
He is unaware that the Trump Ballroom will inevitably be torn down the second he starts his sojourn in Hell and the East Wing restored so that the White House will continue to resemble the building on the money. The Arc de Trump, now only in the planning stages, will stay that way. He was just booed out of the stadium he wants named after him over the weekend, so much so that preliminary designs for it call for ample public toilets on the outside of the building, in an effort to satisfy the hygienic needs of the tourists who will come to piss on it if the Trump name goes on top.
None of this will keep Trump from going on a self-naming frenzy, especially since the newly-elected Mayor of New York is rumored to have plans to rename Times Square “Epstein Alley” and Long Island Sound the “Gulf of Obama,” as soon as he takes office. Here’s a sample list of what Trump could name after himself before his heart seizes up:
J D VANCE AND ERIKA KIRK’S FIRST CHILD: Hey, we know there already is a Donald Trump, Jr., and nobody’s begging to have another one. But a Donald Trump Vance Kirk Jr.? Yeah, nobody wants one of them, either.
THE APPALACHIAN MOUNTAINS: Even though they have nothing to do with Trump, besides being a reliable source of votes, the exercise adverse President has never set foot upon them, and they have existed since Pangea split apart, Trump would naturally love to have them named after him. These mountains are everything Trump is not—serene, beautiful and quiet. Which they will continue to be, even after they are renamed Cliffs O’Trump, Hills of the Poorly Educated, or the Hoax Mountains.
CHESAPEAKE BAY: The Trump Trough, Waters of Trumpland, Bay of MAGA—all good names for the watery heart of the East Coast, even though Trump has never been photographed on a boat in his life, probably because he pukes like a baby choking on formula every time he boards a watercraft, and the salt water winds and his hair are deadly enemies.
ANY RANDOM STATE IN THE DEEP SOUTH: Fuck remembering how many s’s there are, and where they go in Mississippi. The state of Trump! With its capital of Ivanka!
AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER: This is almost inevitable for any Republican President, since the Navy quit naming its carriers after famous military battles (the Lexington, the Yorktown) and starting naming them after people who signed off on the money to build them (the Reagan, the Gerald Ford). Usually, they wait until after that President is dead, or demented enough that he might as well be. Trump qualifies on the second count, and can sit by, napping with pride, as the champagne is broken over its bow by his own surly former Slovenian prostitute First Lady.
AIRPORTS GALORE: From any drug-smuggling dirt runway in South Texas to bustling international hubs currently named after lesser Presidents, the pilots of private jets carrying billionaires and their teenage dates back from island fun will wipe a tear from their eye as they vector in to runways newly renamed after the First Pedophile.
Hardly an exhaustive list, but I’m out of coffee and need to walk the dog. Trump will think of more, and so will Mike Johnson. The burst of creative bottom-smooching from the Republican Congress when they realize that lipping Trump’s hiney is as easy as naming things after him will only be exceeded by the Democrats renaming them when he loses the next election or starts paying back the deal with Satan that got him The Apprentice in the first place.
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