It was a familiar site these days at the daily Coronavirus Mediacircustops briefing. If his Trollertweety blasts over head weren’t mind numbing enough, the Tyrumposaurus’ delivery from the bully pulpit was sure to crack the most patient of walnut brains. And he droned on.
“No wonder my ratings are going up. I was the one who stepped in to shut the migration down from Chopstickchowmein. And that Peternavarro memo from weeks ago? Never saw it. Not in a million years. I wasn’t thinking about it before he was even thinking of it, okay? On that note — the thinking part — because I do all the thinking around here, I really felt this was a pandemic long before the expert dinos were thinking of calling it a pandemic. Long before. You can blame the Obamarus and blame the rest of the Donkeykongrus while you’re at it. They didn’t get behind me. They tried to impeach me instead. So I can be excused if it took my mind off things just for a second. One tiny second. If I forgot a couple of things along the way, it’s because I had to be a cheerleader to get Dino Nation back on track. A cheerleader, can you believe it? Rah, rah as they say. Look at me. I’m doing it all. Gee, look at the sun. Time flies. It’s been 90 minutes of me. I guess I could take a few questions now.”
At the back of the cave, a Newyorktimesian dino, the Ericlipton, raised his short arm. The T-Rump spotted him.
“Ah, fake news. There you are. You fake news dinos are all alike.”
“Fact-checking you is a full-time job,” replied the Ericlipton, “Dino Nation can rest assured we sift through all the lies to keep you honest, T-Rump.”
The dino leader bristled.
“Okay, you blew it. You’re a horrible Mediacircustops. I’m not taking your question. So, there.”
“I’m sorry. Did you think I was going to ask you a question?”
“Uh. … Heh-heh. That’s why you’re here. Right?”
“No question. But I do have a song for you. Actually, we have a song for you. Five more Newyorktimesian dinos beside him stood up. They included the Davidsanger, the Maggiehaberman, the Michaelshear, the Markmazzetti and the Julianbarnes.
The T-Rump gripped the flat rock lectern and scowled at them.
“So, you’re ganging up on me, are you?”
“It takes a lot of talent to write a great song.”
The T-Rump was taken aback.
“A great song, huh? Well, it would be if it’s about me.”
“Did you want to hear it?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I want to hear it. You know I’m receptive to any and all news that pertains to me. Especially when it’s entertaining. Er, what’s the song called?”
“Hah! You mean ‘Unforgettable.’ You can’t even get that right.”
“On the contrary …”
Unforgivable, is what you did
Unforgivable, in what you hid
You made a mess of poor Messonier
She warned you in mid-February
Social isolation was in store
Unforgivable, letting Pence hold sway
Stalling the alarm, truth in the way
That’s why, dummy, it’s just logical
That something so unforgivable,
Came from a pompous, moronic imbecile like you
Unforgivable, how the cases grew
From fifteen to four thousand, not just one or two
A million positives, it’s incredible
It’s something so unforgivable,
It’s many thousands dead and counting, thanks to you
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!