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“He’ll be in a home. And someone else will be running the government.” Donald Trump, on the prospect of a Biden Presidency. News Item.
The Salmon Shitbird advanced this argument the other day, not realizing, just as he recently didn’t realize that China bordered India and Kansas City was in Missouri, that he was making a powerful case against himself.
What if Trump was in a home? And the government was being run by other people? And by other people we don’t mean the collection of relatives, ass-eaters and preachers who have visions of Trump copulating with Jesus that surround him now, but actual competent functionaries? Meanwhile, Trump would be sitting in a rest home called Golfing Towards Heaven, reading get-well cards from Putin and Tweeting about his bedsores being the BEST bedsores ever.
It would be a better world. Not much better, because all those competent functionaries would be Republicans, keen on tax breaks for billionaires and cutting Social Security so deeply that old people would be breakfasting on Alpo and eggs.
But it would work with Biden. Joe could sit in the White House, hugging other people’s wives and patting little girls on the head and occasionally signing something, and competent Democrats would make sure we got health care and quit kicking NATO in the nuts.
It’s pure speculation, of course, that Biden’s dementia is more advanced than that of Trump’s. Biden rambles, yes, but Trump rambles from here to Neptune and back, like some erratic interplanetary probe. Biden has never had a hamberder and washed it down with covfefe in his life. Biden mixes up his wife and his sister. Trump mixes up his wife and his daughter. Also, his daughter and a porn star. Also, windmills and carcinogens. You get the picture.
It is worthwhile to imagine both Biden and Trump in advanced old age if they were not famous politicians, and in Trump’s case, rich. Joe would be in a nice, assisted-living facility, where he would be known for his courtly manners and ability to play a mean game of hearts. His silvery hair and gleaming teeth would make him the heartthrob of every octogenarian gal on the block and he would be regularly visited by Hunter and whoever that kid was currently married to.
Trump would be living in a trailer park in Florida. None of his kids would pay any attention to him because he would be just as unpleasant broke as he is rich, and far less useful. He’d sit on his screened-in porch all day, a New England Patriots baseball cap jammed down hard over his bald pate, yelling at every kid that rode by on a dirt bike, which would be every kid in the neighborhood, just so they could laugh and give him the finger when he did. He’d get his double-wide toilet-papered every Halloween.
So, there you have it—do you want your President to be a nice guy whose best cerebral years are probably behind him, or a hateful old fart who’s getting to be so low in the Q’s that he thinks he's the Chosen One?
The choice looks like it will be yours.
The Salmon Shitbird advanced this argument the other day, not realizing, just as he recently didn’t realize that China bordered India and Kansas City was in Missouri, that he was making a powerful case against himself.
What if Trump was in a home? And the government was being run by other people? And by other people we don’t mean the collection of relatives, ass-eaters and preachers who have visions of Trump copulating with Jesus that surround him now, but actual competent functionaries? Meanwhile, Trump would be sitting in a rest home called Golfing Towards Heaven, reading get-well cards from Putin and Tweeting about his bedsores being the BEST bedsores ever.
It would be a better world. Not much better, because all those competent functionaries would be Republicans, keen on tax breaks for billionaires and cutting Social Security so deeply that old people would be breakfasting on Alpo and eggs.
But it would work with Biden. Joe could sit in the White House, hugging other people’s wives and patting little girls on the head and occasionally signing something, and competent Democrats would make sure we got health care and quit kicking NATO in the nuts.
It’s pure speculation, of course, that Biden’s dementia is more advanced than that of Trump’s. Biden rambles, yes, but Trump rambles from here to Neptune and back, like some erratic interplanetary probe. Biden has never had a hamberder and washed it down with covfefe in his life. Biden mixes up his wife and his sister. Trump mixes up his wife and his daughter. Also, his daughter and a porn star. Also, windmills and carcinogens. You get the picture.
It is worthwhile to imagine both Biden and Trump in advanced old age if they were not famous politicians, and in Trump’s case, rich. Joe would be in a nice, assisted-living facility, where he would be known for his courtly manners and ability to play a mean game of hearts. His silvery hair and gleaming teeth would make him the heartthrob of every octogenarian gal on the block and he would be regularly visited by Hunter and whoever that kid was currently married to.
Trump would be living in a trailer park in Florida. None of his kids would pay any attention to him because he would be just as unpleasant broke as he is rich, and far less useful. He’d sit on his screened-in porch all day, a New England Patriots baseball cap jammed down hard over his bald pate, yelling at every kid that rode by on a dirt bike, which would be every kid in the neighborhood, just so they could laugh and give him the finger when he did. He’d get his double-wide toilet-papered every Halloween.
So, there you have it—do you want your President to be a nice guy whose best cerebral years are probably behind him, or a hateful old fart who’s getting to be so low in the Q’s that he thinks he's the Chosen One?
The choice looks like it will be yours.
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