Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: donald trump (page 3 of 24)

Fact-Checking The State Of The Union

  • The State of the Union is not, in fact, strong.
  • Nancy Pelosi is not an illegal immigrant and therefore should not have been arrested by ICE during the speech.
  • Climate Change is not “Jew magic.”
  • Pittsburgh is not the capital of Pennsylvania.
  • Nor is it the capital of Ohio.
  • The leading cause of death in the American military is suicide, not “hearts breaking because ungrateful wide receivers took a knee on the flag.”
  • The International Space Station is not powered by coal.
  • It is not true that “No one knows who won World War II.”
  • The Electoral College is not an actual school.
  • The Tasmanian Tiger died out before Barack Obama was even born, making it impossible for their extinction to be caused by “Obama-era job-killing regulations.”
  • Queen Elizabeth has never FaceTimed Donald Trump, and she certainly has not done so while masturbating.
  • The Pyramids were not built using Wookiee slave labor.
  • Hillary Clinton is not in charge of a secret society called the Hilluminati.
  • Her husband is similarly not the head of the Billuminati.
  • There is no passage in the Bible that states “See a fag, punch a fag.”
  • Mormons are not amphibious in the slightest.
  • Joe Biden is still alive.
  • While African-American employment numbers are rising, it has nothing to do with the XFL’s relaunch.
  • Herbert Hoover and J. Edgar Hoover were neither the same person, nor were they twins.
  • There are 50 states.

An Exclusive Look At The First Draft Of The White House’s Immigration Proposal

Lucky dogs that you are, Enthusiasts, TotD has dug up the first draft of the White House’s immigration proposal. (Maggie Haberman sent it to me.) It’s as wild as–

You writing about the Grateful Dead? As is promised in the name of the blog?

What do you want from me, man? They were smelly people who didn’t know how to end songs. My scope has widened; my portfolio is now the world.

You’re a tick on the balls of humanity.

Well, humanity should have worn shorts when it went running through all that high grass.

Just write something, anything, about the Dead. How about a recommendation?

Don’t eat Tide Pods.

A show recommendation.

Oh, fine: 5/28/77 from the Hartford Civic Center.

Obscure.

Well, there’s a reason the fucker was an official release. Can I get to my little comedical sketch now, please?

Whatever.

Anyway, Enthusiasts, here’s the first draft of the White House’s immigration proposal:

BORDER SECURITY

Securing the Southern and Northern borders of the United States requires a combination of manpower, intelligence, and a brand-new fleet of Mankiller™ armed drones provided by the DeVos family. Without these factors, MS-13 animals will rape everyone reading this proposal.

The Department of Homeland Security must have the following to keep your white daughters safe:

  • Immediate construction of THE WALL, and Chuck Schumer needs to refer to it as THE WALL in all-caps every time he talks about it.
  • Spiffy new uniforms for our Border Patrol, who are the real heroes.
  • 3.5 million new ICE agents.
  • Funding for a Super-ICE agent program.
  • Enable all Real Americans to perform “citizen’s deportations” on suspected illegals.
  • Blue-Ribbon Commission to look into a “Judge Dredd” sort of deal.
  • Recategorization of Irish, Italians, and Greeks back to “non-white” status.
  • We’re gonna need a Jew List.

DACA LEGALIZATION

Provide legal-ish status to the 1.8 filthy criminals stealing our jobs and eating our dogs.

  • Path the citizenship that shall not last for greater than sixty (60) years.
  • Installation of Patriot Chips into the nerve centers of DACA recipients that will alert the proper authorities to non-Americanism.
  • Spaying and/or neutering to prevent further breeding of illegals.
  • Some sort of badge or pin to be displayed prominently whenever in public, maybe in the shape of a taco.

PROTECT THE NUCLEAR FAMILY

Boys have a penis, and girls have a vagina.

  • American homos are bad enough, so we’re not taking any foreign ones.

ELIMINATE DIVERSITY LOTTERY

The Diversity Lottery allows randos to waltz into America despite being gormless losers with no skills.

  • Switch to an entirely merit-based entrance system.
  • Merits include:
    • The ability to tolerate lactose.
    • Freckling in the sun.
    • Giving money to a member of the president’s family.
    • Tig ol’ bitties and an ass that goes boomshakalaka.

The Daily Reckoning 1/13/18

Ledes are getting a-buried, Enthusiasts! Soil turned, loosed, set aside and replaced with a void: and now the corpse FLUMP and before you refill the hole you also shoot your partner, Snitchy, who really shouldn’t have been let into the gang in the first place, and into the raggedly-dug grave goes Snitchy, too.

What’s happening here?

Sentence got away from me.

They’re wily like that.

Shut up, I’m talking about politics like a pundit. The past two days of Great King Shitsthebed’s reign have been even more tumultuous than usual, reminiscent of his “Nazis are people, too” moment after Charlottesville, but with the added glamour of the San Fernando Valley. And that half-hour a state thought it was going to die. (The amount that this man can fuck up in a day is staggering and enervating to the bystander: he is like Teddy Roosevelt, if Teddy Roosevelt sucked. Donald Trump is–in every sense of the word–a Stakhanovite.)

Let’s examine the three incidents and note where the important detail has been overlooked.

The Shithole Thing It’s not the language: there are multiple botnets–both virtual and human–trying to push the argument that other presidents were equally as vulgar. Irrelevant. Nixon was as foulmouthed as a sailor with Tourette’s, and Johnson had his dick out around 60% of the day, but they behaved this way in private.

Nor is it the racism. The only onlookers who do not realize that the Grand Wizard of Jamaica Estates is a racist are people who will never do so. They live in long articles in the New York Times containing lyrical descriptions of wheat fields, and Walmarts, and off-brand cigarettes. They admire a man who says what we’re all thinking. They are the economically anxious, and they do not think Donald Trump is a racist.

The rest of us, who aren’t fucking cretins, know that Basketball Head is a racist. It is not news he that would advocate Norwegian immigration over Haitian. (Nor, for that matter, is it news that he’s so ill-informed about the world that he thinks there’s a mass of Norwegians clamoring to leave their socialist igloos to live in Houston. We know he’s dumb, too.)

The important bit–as I alluded to–was that he made these comments as close to “in public” as is possible without a PA system. The Oval Office was full of Democrats who openly despise him, and Republicans that secretly do. Anything he said in that meeting may well have been tweeted out.

Who’s ready for some Game Theory?

NO!

Yeah, I was just kidding.

You better be.

No one needs that here. Besides, Game Theory doesn’t apply to Trump. You have to assume rational actors in GT, and he’s just a giant Filet-O-Hate at this point and doesn’t behave like a normal person.

True.

Thus, we can eliminate the theory that the pouch-eyed flop was dropping “shithole” into the meeting on purpose, that he wanted it to get leaked to appeal to his base. Now: it certainly has appealed to his base, because his base is composed of scum, but this was not a strategic play. If you had asked him about it immediately after the meeting, he would not have recalled saying it, but would argue that it was a great thing to say, probably the greatest, and many people were already congratulating him on it.

Lesson Learned?

He can’t get through a meeting with his political opponents without blurting out racist bullshit. That doesn’t speak to his racism, it speaks to his mental faculties.

The Porn Star Thing 

The president is a whoremonger. They made you say the Pledge of Allegiance every morning for your entire childhood, and now the president mongs whores. How’s that make you feel? Angry? Makes me angry, it should make you angry. Go get your guns. Get angry and get your guns. Now look up the directions to the roller rink.

Stop this.

No, fuck that. I’m mad and I want to shoot up a roller rink. It’s my right as an American.

This is why the New Yorker won’t hire you.

Commie rag.

Get back to the point.

Which is that it was missed. The weak and failing media, which is very fake, was of course obsessed with the salacious bits of the story. For example: the boobies. And also: the butthole. Less so: the blackmail.

The President of the United States.

Why did you stop?

I wanted to let the phrase percolate. Allow the Enthusiasts to dream of the terrible power ingrained in the phrase. The history. The blood. The city that phrase killed with a signature, and the other city it killed three days later with the same ease. I was letting the moment simmer.

Okay.

The President of the United States was extorted by a porn star.

I wish you hadn’t let it simmer. It hurt more.

It’s the embarrassment! It’s just all so fucking embarrassing!

Question.

Shoot.

You know the test where there’s food at the bottom of a jar with a small opening? And you can get your hand in to get the food, but then you can’t get it back out once you’ve made a fist?

Yeah.

How long you think it would take Trump to let the food go?

He never would. He would stagger around the West Wing smashing the jar into walls trying to break it. And he wouldn’t be able to, but he would refuse to take the jar off his hand and he does the State of the Union speech like that.

I agree. Good for us for not making a “small hands” joke there.

We cut our own path.

Lesson Learned?

I’m confident that the President of the United States was only extorted just the once. And isn’t currently being extorted. I’m confident.

The Hawaii Thing

You may recall Attorney General Jefferson Bocephus Sessions saying that Hawaii was just some “island in the Pacific,” which is like Turnip’s “shithole” comment in that it is on one level true, but that level is second-grade. Plus–and you’ll find this is a theme with these pinheads–you’re not supposed to say it out loud. (Unless, of course, you’re doing it on purpose to wink at your darky-hating supporters, but Jefferson Burningmississippi Sessions would never do something like that.)

(Now, you and I know that Hawaii shouldn’t actually be an American state, but humans are so clever that we got the point where the North American continent and the Asian one could trade regularly, and also kill each other regularly, so it’s better to control Hawaii than let the other guy do it. Also: pineapples.)

This morning, there was a false alarm broadcast out over the Emergency System threatening the island with incoming missiles. THIS IS NOT A DRILL, it said. The alerts are issued from everyone’s phones now–there used to be air raid sirens and radio announcements–and the noise is terrible. Families huddled in bathrooms, and others drank and fucked speedily. There were no missiles. Someone fucked up. And it was not Trump.

Finally, a win.

Putting aside the fact that it took him 13 hours to tweet about the incident when he SITS THERE every fucking morning TALKING TO THE TEEVEE like a DODDERING WRETCH–

Stop yelling. This is not the place for that. You’re a literary talent.

I am.

No more yelling.

It’s just all so embarrassing.

I know.

He was golfing, because of course he was golfing, when the false alarm went out and not notified until the “all clear” was given. There are two ways to interpret this:

  1. No one around Basketball Head, some of whom must be assumed to be at least semi-intelligent, thought that Hawaii’s impending incineration was important enough to interrupt the 10th hole.
  2.  They did think it was important, and conspired not to tell the president in fear of an unhinged response.

Lesson Learned

We’re all gonna fucking die.

An Interview With A Shithole

Hey, Shithole. Whatcha doing?

“Just taking it one day at a time, brother.”

Good attitude.

“Gotta stay positive in this gig.”

You’re in the news today.

“I saw that!”

How?

“I have a Google Alert set for my name.”

Oh.

“Dude, I’m fuming. I am running hot, brother!”

I can understand.

“Why does Fat Tits need to bring me into his racist bullshit?”

Dunno, man.

“Shitholes are the least racist holes! Everybody’s equal when they’re squatting on me! Black ass, white ass, whatever: all I see is brown.”

That’s sweet. Disgusting, but sweet.

“I mean, sometimes it’s other colors, but that’s a medical thing, usually. Or someone ate a lot of beets.”

Right.

“I don’t wanna cosign that cocksucker’s racism, y’know?”

Sure, sure.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I take that back. He’s not a cocksucker.”

Good for you. Don’t sink to his vulgar level.

“Oh, it’s not that. It’s that sucking cock is an essentially unselfish act. Plus, can you imagine looking at the top of that fibrous whirl he calls a hairdo while it was happening? You’d be softer than a rich lady’s pillow.”

Don’t make me think about that.

“Well, I’m pissed, man. Glad I didn’t vote for the mutant.”

Who did you vote for?

“I wrote in McMullin.”

Okay.

Frum Here To Eternity

David Frum, in The Atlantic, compares Donald Trump to Fredo Corleone; this is because David Frum has been wrong about every single thing except his choice to be born rich. Say “war” around David Frum, and you’ll see spotting on his pant crotch; it’s pre-cum, and David Frum will most likely also be pawing at you and drooling. “WAR?” he’ll shriek. “WHERE?” All global conflict is solvable, says David Frum, if only we kill enough children at it.

(Ah, TotD, the more forgiving and/or conservative Enthusiasts will say, he does not support Basketball Head. Republicans who have broken with their party to oppose the unstable thickwit surely deserve credit for their bravery and independence, do they not?

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH

I just shot you with a flamethrower. Stop butting in when I’m doing my important political blathering.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!

And now you’re running around on fire. This is all your fault. You made me throw flames at you.

Anyway: no, no one any longer gets the slightest bit of lauding for recognizing that Food Court Face is a danger to the entire planet, and an embarrassment to his nation. No cookie. I’m not proud of Jennifer Rubin or Rick Wilson, or any of the other so-called “Never-Trumpers.” “Not supporting Donny” has now become a base-level demand for those wishing to be acceptable. You don’t get points for not eating your cousin, and you don’t get a gold-star for not huffing paint at a stranger’s wedding, and I will not thank you for your courage in standing up to the Dim Dummy.)

And now David Frum is wrong about The Godfather. It’s rare that someone punctures their own argument while making it, but our Frummy is special.

Let me make it clearer:

There’s a key difference between film and reality: The Wizard of Oz kept hidden and relied on trickery and cunning to further his (admittedly benevolent) aims. Donald Trump told us all who he was, and blatantly hates humanity.

At a certain point, a “key difference” becomes the point at which a metaphor should be abandoned, but as we’ve established: David Frum is sexually aroused by being wrong. You cannot handwave away Fredo’s lack of power: it was his raison d’etre, which means “foreign reason.” A Fredo who is in charge is, by definition, not a Fredo. Fredo does not and never would have the backing of his family, whereas Trump is at the head of his. Don is the Don.

The fictional character more appropos at this date is Anthony Fremont. Billy Mumy played him on the teevee. Anthony was a little boy who could make whatever was in his head reality, and the whole town catered to him out of fear. Anthony liked it when people were nice to him, and didn’t like it when they weren’t. So everyone was nice to him. They didn’t want to be wished away to the cornfield. Anthony had a big button, and it worked.

This has been another installment of TotD Corrects Useless Media Fuckers At Random. Thank you for attending.

Statement From The President Of The United States On Steve Bannon

I have never met Steve Bannon or his many shirts in my life. Since my historic win of the presidency, something that Crooked Hillary couldn’t manage to do even though she was married to Blowjob Bill, parasites and losers have crawled out of their homes in the inner cities to attack me and hate America, which I am in charge of.

Many people, great people, who are working towards making America as great as they are, and they’re great, came in and out of my winning campaign that I won, defeating 17 challengers, one of whom was a black and whatever Marco Rubio is. Also a woman, but a mess. Bad face. Steve Bannon was not there when I came up with Low-Energy Jeb or called Ted Cruz’ wife ugly. She is!

Steve spent his short time on my campaign drinking and maybe sexually harassing interns and also maybe colluding with Russia. Robert Mueller, who is a Democratic spy, should investigate Steve Bannon for collusion with the Russians, and also for selling all that uranium to Huma Abedin, who is probably a terrorist.

If Steve Bannon, who I do not know, is so smart, then why did he endorse the weak Roy Moore, who I also do not know and did not endorse? So many wonderful, beautiful things are happening because of me and only me and not anyone else, but the lying media who is failing only wants to lie and fail and be weak.

While certain lying drunks wearing too many shirts only want to “leak” to the press, I have to make America great again with the help of my many, many great Republican Senators and Congressmen and maybe I’ll even do a bipartisan. Instead of trying to burn America down, we will burn America up!

A Christmas Donald

WHITE HOUSE – MIDNIGHT, CHRISTMAS EVE

“What should I call Jake Tapper, who is such a liar and probably a fruit and tells lies about me and Russia, which doesn’t exist and I didn’t do? I got it, I got it. Let’s go simple. Jake Tapper: Impotent? Many people are saying Floppy Jake can’t get it Up. Great tweet, the best tweet. Now I hit send and I’ll go to sleep the greatest president America has ever seen.

SHWAZOOM!

“What was that? General Kelly? Where’s my general? General? Melania? Donald, Jr.? Mooch? Anyone?”

CLINK CLINK CLINK

“Donald Trump!”

“That’s Mr. President to you.”

“Donald! You know me, Donald! I was once like you! Venal, vain, and vengeful! I lied, cheated, and stole! I was cruel and selfish and evil, and now I wear these chains I forged in life!”

CLINK CLINK

“Who are you? I can’t see you, even though I have probably the best vision of anyone you know. Great, great vision. Step forward so I can see you.”

“It is I, Roy Cohn!”

“Step back!”

“Donald, I don’t–”

“Keep your Ghost AIDS on that side of the room.”

“Jesus, really?”

“President can’t have Ghost AIDS. People look up to me–children, mostly, but also all the adults–and I can’t have Ghost AIDS on teevee. Looks terrible. Ghost AIDS does not make America great again.”

“You’re just as shitty as I remember.”

“Point to all the things in the room you’ve touched.”

“Fuck you, Don.”

“Mr. President.”

“Listen: you’re in for a long night. I was gonna warn you more specifically, but fuck you.”

SHWAZOOM!

“That was fake news. Didn’t happen. Complete fiction and a witch hunt. Okay, sleepy-time. Need to rest up. Big day tomorrow. Fox and Friends is talking about me, which is why their ratings are so high. Trump gets the best ratings. No ghosts, no ghosts.”

OLD-TIMEY MUSIC NOISE

“What is that? This shithole makes so many noises at night. I wish I was back at Trump Tower in my luxurious penthouse apartment on the 213th floor.”

“Trump!”

“Who’s there? Do you have Ghost AIDS, too?”

“No, I…what the hell are Ghost AIDS?”

“Terrible, terrible disease. Possibly invented by Obama, people are saying Obama made Ghost Aids in between basketball games and rap concerts. He made it in his hut.”

“Wow.”

“You look like Abraham Lincoln.”

“I am Abraham Lincoln. I’m the Ghost of Presidents Past.”

“Many, many people have said I’m a better president than you, Abe. I gotta be honest. Lots of people are saying it. Not the media, which is very unfair to me and never reports on how much better than you I am. Civil War. That’s on you, Abe. The entire Trump presidency: no Civil Wars, not at all. That’s winning. Someone’s gotta win and someone’s gotta lose, and Trump’s a winner.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“And I don’t like your hat. Not a great hat. Why didn’t you put a motto on it?”

“Huh?”

“I believe Hillary Clinton had you assassinated. Maybe that’s why she had those 33,000 e-mails deleted, because they had proof of her evil time traveling.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Also, Abe, gotta say: Melania is much better-looking than Mary Todd. Not a looker, Mary Todd.”

“I’m outta here.”

SHWAZOOM!

“Weak president. Only on the five! No one uses fives anymore, a very weak bill. Maybe I should be on the money. Gary? Gary Cohn? Where’s my Money Jew? Gary?”

WHITE HOUSE – RESIDENCE BATHROOM (SPECTRAL PLANE)

“Okay, your turn.”

“Nope. Fuck this.”

“Hillary, get in there.”

“Not a shot, Abe.”

“You’re supposed to be representing what could have been.”

“I offered the world myself, and it chose Darth Diarrhea. Hilly is dunzo.”

“There’s three ghosts. That’s how this bit works.”

“Abe, suck my popular-vote-winning dick.”

“Oh, fine. Ghost of Presidents Future?”

UNHOLY SCREAM OF THE ABYSS

“What do you mean, ‘Fuck him?’ Get in there and show him he can mend his ways!”

TERRIBLE CRY OF THE DAMNED

“It is a cool hat, and I don’t know why everyone is ganging up on me.”

“It’s a stupid hat, Abe.”

“Oh, fuck you, Hillary.”

WHITE HOUSE – CHRISTMAS MORNING

“I’m awake! I’m awake and the greatest president that’s ever lived. Those must have been the worst dreams in the history of Christmas, which I allowed America to celebrate again.”

WINDOW BEING THROWN OPEN NOISE

“You! Little boy! Little boy who is somehow wandering around the White House grounds!”

“It’s me, dad. Donald, Jr.”

“Little boy! Is the Burger King still doing breakfast?”

“I think so.”

“Then go buy me the biggest french toast stick in the store, and if you’re back in a half-hour, I’ll give you a pardon.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Okay, great, wonderful. French toast sticks. And God bless us, but only the Christian God, who is Jesus and the best and only God, everyone. Great, okay, whatever.”

Lesser-Reported Additions To The Tax Bill

  • The Alternative Minimum Tax is now starting at second base after the Regular Minimum Tax pulled his groin.
  • All museums to be burned for fuel and/or sold to the Saudis.
  • IRS defunded, employees lined up and shot.
  • Super Guantanamo.
  • Two new aircraft carriers. (McCain doodled one on the bill, complete with a jet taking off and a sound effect VROOM, and then wrote “X 2” next to it; his distinguished colleagues voted Aye, and that’s how a bill becomes a law.)
  • Each Koch brother allowed to kill ten (10) hobos a year.
  • Graduate students now disallowed from deducting their student loans, forced to work the sorghum fields.
  • Yellowstone National Park to become Yellowstone-A-Lago; Old Faithful is one of the traps on the 11th hole.
  • Public schools declared enemies of the state.
  • Estate tax repealed; the Republicans called it the Death Tax, and they also repealed the Life Tax, so now we’re basically back to a pre-industrial theory on taxation.
  • Instead of insurance, the United States will now depend on a process referred to as a “cripple cull;” the phrase appears in an unknown handwriting in the final bill, and no one has fessed up but everyone’s pretty sure it was Inhofe.
  • Work-related expenses no longer deductible for anyone except company owner, unless it’s a small business, in which case fuck you.
  • Christmas presents stolen in the night by vengeful green mutant.
  • Japanese people have to go back in the camps. (I swear to you that’s in there. It’s written in pencil, and below that is an exceptionally racist cartoon of a man with Asian features behind bars.)
  • If you fail to acknowledge and make way when a Billionaire passes you on the street, then your life is forfeit; the Billionaire may take you as his property, to use or make barter with, or simply kill you on the spot.
  • Internet sold to Meyers-Squibb for $1.

Fox News Presents: A Donald Trump Christmas Special

OPENING MUSIC: SILENT NIGHT BY KID ROCK

“Great, yes, okay. Christmas. Beautiful. The best holiday, hands down. People give you things, and that’s the best you can ask. Receiving is very important. People like to talk about giving, and giving is nice and no one gives more than me–I might be the most generous man on earth, all of earth–but receiving something valuable is a big part of it. Don’t downgrade receiving.

“White House looks just magnificent. Melania did everything, not like some First Ladies who were born in Kenya just like their husbands. I’ve decided I believe that again. Going back to the Kenya thing. Many of my investigators have told me that Obama’s birth certificate was fake news. Several have told me that he was an illegal alien. Maybe Obama was a Mexican Kenyan? I don’t know, but I do know that we finally got the black-person-smell out of the White House.”

“Jesus, Donald.”

“Melania. My beautiful wife, most beautiful First Lady ever. Makes Pat Nixon look like a real dog. By far, the hottest. Who else? Hillary’s the ugliest, obviously. People think Jackie Kennedy was hot, but no tits. Gotta have the tits, I’m a tit man. Can you even imagine Hillary’s tits? Bad tits, terrible tits. Not like Melania, so beautiful, my wife, look at her.”

SLOVENIAN AVOIDING A KISS NOISE

“Melania, tell us what you’ve done to make the White House so glamorous and luxurious. It’s maybe the third or fourth best property I own, gotta be honest, Mar-A-Lago’s better, but this is very nice.”

“As you can see, Donald, I’ve filled the halls with dying trees covered in lamé. And on the walls, I have placed cursed mirrors. They hold the souls of poor children.”

“Great, children, wonderful. Christmas is all about the children, who are currently being molested by Democrats and Hollywood, two groups I was never a part of. Tough Christmas at Matt Lauer’s house because the children now know that daddy is a pervert. If Franken celebrated Christmas, his would be tough, too. I wonder who’s next. Jeff Zucker? Maybe Jeff Zucker pulls out his pecker. I’m gonna call him Jeff Pecker from now on. Another nickname, bing bing bing. Is Rosie O’Donnell a fat lesbian sex pervert? I hear she is, many people say she is, maybe she pulls out her fat lesbian penis, too. People are talking about that, many people, terrible penis on Rosie.

SLOVENIAN WALKING AWAY DISGUSTEDLY NOISE

“All of Hollywood, very unfair to me and also full of child molestors. That’s why you can’t trust that tape, that fake tape. I said it was me just so I could get past it and get to making America great, but it’s not me. Melania knows that wasn’t me. Melania? Where’s my wife, who is acknowledged as one of the great beauties? Melania? I’m thinking about making her the new Secretary of State. Melania? Okay, she’s around here, great.

“This tax bill I have coming out is so wonderful, so great. Everybody loves it, believe me. According to this bill, which is so beautiful, no one who voted for me is going to have to pay taxes anymore. No more! We’re gonna get Mexico to pay our taxes. They already told me, I spoke to Mexico, they said they would.

SLEIGH BELL NOISE

“Oh, look. It’s Santa. Santa, where are you? Santa?”

“Right here, Mr. President.”

“Santa? Santa Claus?”

“Right next to you, sir.”

“Santa, there you are, wonderful, beard, great. What a Santa! Not an ethnic Santa. I have brought back Christmas. Obama didn’t love Christmas because it reminded him of America, which he hated and tried to destroy with his crack and rap and bushy hair. Obama didn’t have American hair! Maybe that’s not presidential to say, but someone had to say it. Not American hair. Santa, who is that under that beard?”

“It’s me, Roy Moore.”

“The great Roy Moore, who the lying and failing media have tried to crucify. Just like Jesus! But just like Jesus, Roy is gonna break free from the cross and get elected to the Senate. What a great Senator you’ll be.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. President.”

“I saw you over there with all the children on your lap.”

“Oh, you saw that?”

“Yes, playing Santa. Long line to get up there. Very nice.”

“Oh! Right! Playing Santa, sure. That’s what I was doing.”

“I didn’t see any little boys in the line.”

“Hey, look over there.”

“What? Where? Is it Hillary?”

DISGRACED CHILD MOLESTOR SKULKING OFF NOISE

“Where am I looking? Hillary? Who’s there? Deep State? Globalist? What? Okay, whatever, I’ll look later because I’m the best at looking. Most men my age need glasses, not me. Perfect eyes. I could probably be a great sniper, one of the best ever. I see so well. Okay, now it’s time for a new tradition at the White House: Christmas Calls. One very, very, very lucky young American is going to get a phone call from his favorite president, which is me. Lemme just get out of Twitter and call.”

DIALING NOISE

RINGING NOISE

“It’s ringing.”

RINGING NOISE

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is the best president of America, Donald Trump. Is this Dicky?”

“This is Senator Richard Burr.”

“Dicky! Have you been a good boy this year? Have you dropped the Russia case so Santa will bring you a new toy?”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Do you want a toy truck, Dicky? Or maybe a corner apartment in Trump Tower? Santa can make both of those things happen, but you have to be a good boy, Dicky. Good boys get past this Russia thing.”

“Seriously?”

“No Russia, no Russia.”

“I’m hanging up the phone.”

“Hey, you could get coal. Especially since I have reopened dozens of new coal plants in the past year. Dozens, everyone’s talking about it, everyone’s back to work who hasn’t been killed by illegal immigrants.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“Great, Santa, wonderful, coal. Oh, it’s time for Hannity. Okay, Christmas, great, Trump, Christmas.”

Maggie Haberman Receives A Late-Night Phone Call From Whom You’d Expect

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Just one night of peace. Just one…yeah, what do you want?”

“Hi. We need two pies, one with pepperoni, and an order of cheesy bread.”

“Hi, Don, Jr.”

“Is this Papa John’s?”

“No, it’s Maggie Haberman.”

“That’s the weirdest name for a pizza place.”

“I’m not a pizzeria, Junior. I’m a reporter for the New York Times.

“The lying, failing New York Times?”

“Ohhhh, right. You’re fake news.”

“Sure. Busy day, huh?”

“Everybody’s stupid. No one knows what’s going on. My FRIEND Julian was trying to help my dad make America great, and the media is making, like, this whole thing about it like it’s a federal case.”

“It is literally a federal case, Junior.”

“WHY? I didn’t do anything wrong. Maggie?”

“What?”

“Do you have any pizza at your house you could bring over?”

“No.”

“I’m so hungry.”

“Junior, tell me about your relationship with Julian Assange.”

“Julian Asswich is my friend.”

“Assange.”

“Hasaaaaaan CHOP! Remember that? From the Daffy Duck cartoon? Big Ay-rab guy with a sword. Do you know they throw buildings at homosexuals?”

“Concentrate, Junior.”

“Julie’s awesome.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“We met on Twitter. He’s my tweep.”

“Don’t ever say that word again.”

“And we, like, send each other memes. That guy? That guy memes.”

“Uh-huh. What else?”

“Couch tour.”

“Don’t you bring couch tour into this. Leave couch tour out of it.”

“Okay, so you tell me what the problem is. He sends me a link to a site.”

“Right.”

“A lying, failing fake news site that wants to say fake things about my dad.”

“Sure.”

“And he gives me the password to the admin page. So I log in, right? And it’s one of those sites with the About page where they have little bios for everyone who contributes? So, I changed all their info.”

“To what?”

IDIOTIC LAUGHING NOISE

“I called them all gay.”

“Good one, Junior.”

“Even the ladies!”

“Wow. You’re like Lenny Bruce.”

“I don’t know who that is. Is he a winner?”

“Not really. Listen, Junior: that’s a crime. What you just described is a crime.”

“Calling people gay? I swear that political correctness is killing this country. We need to build a wall.”

“To keep out political correctness?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh. The crime is hacking. Hacking is a crime, Junior.”

“Pssh. Hacking’s not a crime. Hacking’s fucking awesome. Besides, I covered my tracks.”

“How so?”

“I switched my browser to incognito mode.”

“Yeah, you covered your tracks.”

“I’m fucking Archer, man.”

“You are. What else did you guys discuss?”

“Chicks. Star Wars. The gym. Chicks.”

“You said chicks twice.”

“That guy fucks. That guy memes, and that guy fucks.”

“Jesus.”

“Oh, and he would give me tips on when he was going to drop some heavy information. Like, a heads-up. And then I’d tell my dad. And, like, my dad looked at me with…I don’t know. I’ve never seen that expression on his face before.”

“Pride?”

“I guess. He didn’t slap me in front of people like he usually does.”

“All happy families are alike, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

“Wow. That’s deep. Is that Kanye?”

“No. Junior, you keep getting yourself into deeper and deeper trouble with these Russians.”

“I wasn’t talking to the Russians this time. I was talking to Julian from Wikileaks.”

“I stand by my statement.”

“It’s just all fake news! The Democrats and the Deep State and George Soros and Hillary Clinton are the ones who collude. No collude from me. They have so much collude.”

“Collude.”

“Do you know what collude means?”

“I keep meaning to look it up.”

“Junior, you need a lawyer.”

“My dad’s lawyers said that I didn’t.”

“That’s because they’re setting you up to take the fall.”

“My dad wouldn’t do that. He told me I was his favorite. I mean, he was looking at Ivanka when he said it, but I was in the room.”

“Right. Junior, I’m going to bed. Try not to fuck up any more than you already have.”

“Okay. Forget the pizza. Could you make me a sandwich and bring it by?”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

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