My Putin …

“Dad? Can I come in?”

The Tyrumposaurus looked up from his meal of day-old salamander tails. The extra-crunchy kind.

“Yes, Junior. What is it?”

“Didn’t the T-Melania tell you to stop eating those because they’ll only make your delirium worse?

“I’m not delirious!”

“I’m just concerned for you, dad. You. Don’t. Look. Well.”

“What’s the matter? You’ve never seen burnt orange skin before? Well, get used to it. I’m sure it’s hereditary. What are you here for anyway?”

“I, well, you know, when I’m speaking before all the dinos … the crowds are not as big as yours of course.”


“Right. And, well, this persona that I adopt as I’m speaking. Some mistakenly think I’m high on something. I try to ignore that. All of it. So when I’m speaking I project this bravado, this us against the world thing. God, Kelly’s been great, hasn’t she? I think she’s going to have kittens sometimes. Because we can’t lose, we really can’t … but …”

“Spit it out, Junior. I’d hate to choke on a salamander tail before you actually say something.”

“I’m worried, dad.”

“Don’t look at me when you say that. You’ll jinx us. Jinx us! Jinx us! Are you hearing voices or is it just me? Did somebody put you up to this, convince you to come in here and break the news to me gently?”

“It’s a small group. Nobody but immediate family would even dream of speaking to you right now. And I mean that in a kind way.” 

“You use the “L” word and so help me … we’re winners. Always. There’s no other possible outcome. Nothing else, understand?”

“Reading you loud and clear. It’s the Russodinos thing, hacking away at us again. The Mediacircustops won’t give it a rest. Always with the questions. That damn Pompeo contradicted you, saying it was the Russodinos, and I’m caught in the middle. Imagine that. Me. Yeah. Heh-heh. I know, right? I don’t know anything. I keep saying that. But they keep asking if we’re doing anything about it. I mean, on the surface, it sounds pretty bad, hitting us right where it hurts.”

The T-Rump Jr. looked around to make sure they were alone.

“Are you, um … doing anything about it?”

“I said I’ve got things under control. It’s fake news. F-A-K-E.” The T-Rump spelt the letters with a claw in the air before his horrified son. “End of story.” 

“Uh, good. That’s real good, dad. Because Eric even asked me …”

“Don’t tell Eric anything!

“I know, I know. Don’t worry. I was just saying Eric asked me how come you always say you’re the toughest dino with the Putinodon — and I believe you, dad, one hundred percent. But Eric, well … he says you’ve never punished the Putinodon or said anything bad about him.”

A scowl from his father. The T-Rump’s face scrunched like he’d been hit with a hard right. 

“Junior, look me in the eye.”

“Which one?”

“Pick one! I’m going to sing you a little song …”

“That really isn’t necessary, dad.”

“Oh, but I think it is. Because you need to know — and don’t tell, Eric — exactly what side of the fence I’m on. This will be our little song.”

The junior T-Rump gulped.

“Uh, sure thing, dad.”

I’ve been his biggest fan for as long as I know 

He can do no wrong, as he rakes in all his dough

He tells the nation they have nothing to fear 

And to those who object, they simply disappear

If you asked me what is his best feature

The one I most admire

The term limits for this greatest creature

Will never expire

Rah, rah, my Putin!

I will never intervene

We only chat when you all are gone 

Rah, rah, my Putin!

He has kept my money clean

Playing a game we call the long con

Four years ago in a story quite bizarre

Election officials said he went too far

I didn’t take the bait, Helsinki, if you please

No time for debate, I told my guys to freeze

A former K-G-B secret stealer

Deutsche Bank became his to run

That is why I cannot be a squealer

I owe him a ton

Rah, rah, my Putin!

I will never intervene

We only chat when you all are gone 

Rah, rah, my Putin!

He has kept my money clean

Playing a game we call the long con

So when I see the complete and total domination

Of his subjects in this display of all-supreme power

Worthy of having a parade every single day in his honour

I became prouder and prouder

Again he is hacking, just whistling in the breeze

One day he could wake up, and put us on our knees

I stand here and promise that he can do no harm

But then no matter what, I won’t raise the alarm

There are some that call me an outstanding

Manchurian Candidate

This is the fake news not understanding 

He is simply great

Rah, rah, my Putin!

I will never intervene

I’ll just ignore the grisly headline

Rah, rah, my Putin!

He has kept my money clean

He’s a leader who’s kept them in line

Rah, rah, my Putin!

I will never intervene

I’ll just repeat again what he said

Rah, rah, my Putin!

He has kept my money clean

I can’t complain, he butters my bread


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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