Get Back …

It was a long march, but a happy march. A long line of dinos heading for the always pretty, never-less-than sun-baked beaches of the nirvana-inducing Neverglades. The trip was not only an annual pilgrimage, but a guilty privilege for many of the Sheepsheadsbayrae, the Flushingqueenserae, the Throgsneckerae, and so many more dinos making their way south from the cold, shivering Big Apple Orchard to the distant north. The chilly climes thawed in their memories with each ground-shaking step.

“Stop right there!”

The plodding dinos came to a halt, looking up at the grim-faced dino before them. They recognized him immediately as one of the T-Rump’s most devout, foot-licking sycophants, the Neverglades governing dino, the Rondesantis. A leather-lunged Bedfordstyerus in the large dino pack stepped forward. His pint-sized stature pointed to the predominant Joepescirus family species in his lineage.

“Hey, what’s da hold-up? I gotta date wit’ da beach!”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” said the governor.

“Why? Did ya move it? Hah!” the Bedfordstyerus turned to his pals. “Da Desantis here is playin’ hide’n seek wit’ da beach”

The Big Apple Orchard dinos chuckled heartily.

“Ahem. I’m afraid this is no laughing matter.”

“Oh, so we’s can’t laugh now, is dat it? Who died and made you king dino?”

“Well, if you must know, I just spoke with the T-Rump yesterday.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell us how dat went. Just one t’ing, dough. How do dem feet taste? Huh?”

The Bedfordstyerus spit on the ground before the Rondesantis.

“Like dat? … Is dat how dey taste?”

“Actually I, uh … I don’t lick his feet any more.”

“Oh ya don’t, do ya? And why’s dat?”

The Rondesantis was too embarrassed to admit he’d graduated among the T-Rump’s cronies to become an A-List tail-licker. Because without the T-Rump’s backing, the Rondesantis would be just another dodgy dino wary of the incoming tide at Miami Reach.

“Uh, that’s not why I’m here. I am here to let you know that you are no longer, ahem … welcome in these parts.”

“Whaddaya mean not welcome? We been trekkin’ down to da beach here fuh years.”

“Well, that was all fine and dandy … once upon a time. But things are different now.”

The Bedfordstyerus turns to his buddies.

“Dude says t’ings are different. I don’t know. T’ings look da same to me. How ‘bout you?”

Nods all around. Which brought all eyes back upon the Rondesantis. The Bedfordstyerus frowned at him.

“C’mon, spit it out. What exactly is it you’re tryin’ to tell us?”

The Rondesantis found the gumption to stick out his jaw and say …

“Well, I’d like you to … I’d like you to … get back.”

“Hah! Get back? You’s funny like a clown. Whatta maroon! Fuhgeddabout it!”

But the Desantis stood his ground, stomped his feet to some far-off beat and delivered his full-throated message.


Cuomo is a thin skin, caught him as a moaner

Cuz he hoped this wouldn’t last

Cuomo said you could go south from the Corona

For the Neverglades en masse


Get back, get back

Get back, we need our short arms strong

Get back, get back

Get back to join your Brooklyn throng

Get back, Cuomo!


Go home

Get back, get back

Get back, we need our short arms strong

Get back, get back

Back to join your Brooklyn throng

Get back, Yo!


Sweet Letitia James thought she could nab T-Rump

But then really, no one can

All the dinos round here knows he will be comin’

He’s the only one who can


Oh, get back, get back

Get back, we need our short arms strong

Get back, get back

Get back, to join your Brooklyn throng

Get back, Letitia!


Go home

Oh, get back, get back

Get back, we need our short arms strong

Get back, get back

Get back to join your Brooklyn throng


Get back

Woo …


“Thanks, Yo. I’d like to say thank you on behalf of the Neverglades and remind you that you’re 900 miles from home. See ya!”


You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!

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