Categories
Donald Trump Humor Satire

Hunterbiden …

“I was terrible out there. Terrible! That was the worst. How could you let this happen to me? How could you, Mark?”

A panicked Tyrumposaurus slumped behind his rocky, resolute monolith desk. The Markmeadows wiped his sweaty brow and tread carefully, wondering how he could accidentally trip on his tail and knock himself unconscious so as not to answer the question. Sycophancy trumped pain.

“It’s all my fault, T-Rump. Every last word you said. My fault. That was supposed to be a town hall where they were supposed to worship and praise you. And give you softball questions.

“No, instead they grilled me on whether or not I took a test the day of the first debate. They said it was the honour system. They should know better. And the pandemic. I said we could’ve had 2 million dead dinos but we’re only at 215,000.”

“But then you said one dead dino is one too much.”

“You see? I can’t even fake kindness. And I told them I will look after dinos with pre-existing conditions.”

“But, uh … you have a case before the Dino Supreme Court that would wipe them out.”

“C’mon. You know me. I’m just covering my bases. I can’t lose. I never lose.”

The T-Rump slumped again. He was slumping a lot lately. 

“19 days. 19 days until the November battle. I don’t like the looks of this. Eight, ten, twelve points behind the Joebiden. Everywhere. I’m begging the subterranean cave lady dinos and they’re not biting. No one’s biting. I’m living in a Trumpassic Period with no teeth, dammit! What the hell is going on, Mark? Don’t just stand there. Do something!”

Twenty minutes later, the Markmeadows returned with the Jayferguson, a bronzed, amphibious, archipelago-hopping dino. The T-Rump gave him the once over and nodded.

“Nice tan. What’s your secret?”

“Lots of archipelago hopping.”

“You don’t say. Do you bump into any archangels? Twenty-somethings?”

“To quote the Amyconeybarrett, I’m not sure where you’re going with that?”

“Ahem. Yes. Well, she’s a lock. And I need to be a lock too. Whatcha got for me?”

“Well, the Rudygiuliani gave me some new Russodino info on your opponent … if you’re up for more Russodino info.”

The T-Rump looked at the Markmeadows and chuckled.

“I like this guy. Am I up for Russodino info. Does my wife hate Christmas? Okay, Jay. Let ‘er rip.” 

Sha la, la, la, la, la, they’re shady

In Ukraine, that was Biden’s son

Play it again, Sam

Calling his name cuz Joe’s in the way

 We’ll make ’em pay, graspin’ as we’re slidin’

Chasin’ tails, outing Hunterbiden

He was a bold, new Burisma newcomer

Thanks to dad, it was his to plunder 

Until came the prosecutor’s bark

Corruption gone wild! 

So Papa Joe stepped in to do his fighting

Sound the alarm, outing Hunterbiden

Under our nose

Their criminal past

And there goes Joe, laughing at his free pass

Father and son lying like it’s all FINE! 

It’s not fine

So, sha la, la, la, la, la, they’re shady

He’s the one, that was Biden’s son

We’ll have a trial today and every day

Put Billbarr as the reaper

He’ll dismember their rights like T-Rump planned

One more try, outing Hunterbiden

Busted Hunterbiden!

………………………………

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!

Categories
Donald Trump Humor Political Satire

Mar-a-Guano …

Dinosaur teeth gnashed, nostrils flared and Cheezbuggabuggas disappeared like a Donkeykongrus Subpoenasaurae. It was another fast food feast at Mar-a-Guano, the Tyrumposaurus’ flogging resort in the Neverglades. The T-Rump raised his Dietcoker

“Here’s to good friends. Good friends who want something from me and are willing to pay handsomely for it.”

The T-Rump coughed loudly. A wealthy dino from the Georgia Orchard raised a short arm.

“T-Rump, you don’t still have the Covid, do you?”

“Oh, that? That was just a chunk of Cheezbuggabugga I didn’t feel like chewing. Don’t worry about me. I feel better than I did twenty years ago. Ah, the Marla years …”

Another cough from the T-Rump.

“Another chunk. I’ll be fine.”

The T-Rump was wracked by a long, messy coughing fit. 

The Georgia Orchard dino was concerned.

“About that special swamp water y’all been drinking? You know, the kind we can’t get? You were in bad shape last week, T-Rump. We didn’t come here to get sick and die. And, uh, by the way, that swamp water could just be maskin’ your symptoms. It’s just helpin’ with the inflammation. It ain’t no Covid cure. Nosirrree.”

“Hey! Who let a doctor in here? You’re just like the Mediacircustops. Blowing this pandemic all out of proportion. You can beat Covid. I did. So, eat up. Get in there, close together. Rub those elbows. Here, let me hand them out to everybody. You can say I touched your Cheezbuggabugga. You’ll be s-o-o-o-o popular with your friends. Cheezbuggabuggas for all. I spared no expense. Trust me, we’ve rounded the corner on this Covid thing. I don’t know where they’re getting this 400,000 dead dinos by February number. I’ve already saved 2 million. That puts us w-a-a-a-a-y ahead of the game. Scientists. Hmmph. Who needs’em?”

A Land of Longhorns dino in the Cheezbuggabugga line raised a short arm.

“Thanks again for having us here at Mar-a-Guano. We’re so privileged. We all sincerely hope you win the November Battle. Otherwise why would we all be here, right, dinos?”

Nods all around from the chomping, dripping dino mugs.

“Of course that’s why you’re here,” said the T-Rump. “And that brings us to the entertainment portion of today’s big shin-dig. To remind us why you keep coming back to my home sweet Neverglades home. Again and again. Could we have a slow, melancholy backdrop, because this is serious stuff.”  

Mar-a-Guano, let’s talk about the finances

Gotta improve your chances, pay for play now

Oh, she’s a good one

Making a million-five per season

A good enough reason you

Should get on board now

So you want to be an ambassador

Welcome to my stable

Membership’s a quarter mill and then you’re all set

A revenue stream, the finest thing

Centerpiece on every table

Dined here 400 times and I haven’t paid yet.

Mar-a-Guano, oh, she’s the world’s eighth wonder

Don’t wait any longer for that government loan

The dinners, the galas, I have a lotta folks talking

I’m glad you came knocking, here, I’ll throw you a bone

This is my comfort zone, it’s no surprise

I reap rewards as you patronize

Favors you seek, the gatekeeper you pay

Close access has its highs and lows

Isn’t it funny how the most money holds sway?

Mar-a-Guano, she’s now the best of your chances

Come book a few dances, I raised the rate

Special interests reign, in the swamp I drain for you

You get an inside track to policy

An inside track to policy

You’d better get some money to me before it’s too late

………………………………

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!

Categories
Donald Trump Humor Political Satire Satire

Debate Pretender …

“I’m going to talk now about the Crookadillary,” droned on the Mincepencenow.

“Mr. Vice President,” said the Susanpage, moderator of the Vice Presidential Dino Debate. “You are over your two minutes.”

“Hold that thought, I think it’s time to give our great T-Rump another plug on his great leadership in guiding us through this pandemic.”

“We are not through it,” said the Kamalaharris. “There are seven-point-five million dinos who have caught the disease and 210 thousand have died. This is the greatest failure of any dino administration in the history of the Milkanhoney Preservation.”

“No, it’s not. The T-Rump stopped every last Asiasaurae dino from coming over.”

The Kamalaharris gave him a stern look.

“Mr. Vice President, I’m speaking.”

“Joebiden xenophobic.”

“Mr. Vice President, you’re not making good choices.”

“Marshalling of millions of resources.”

“Mr. Vice President, mother said stop.”

“Huh?”

The Mincepencenow finally knocked off his game, the moderator jumped in.

“Sin Hut Dino Harris, since you and the Joebiden are hopelessly ahead in the polls and are essentially playing a don’t-do-any-damage game here, I will direct the next series of questions to the Mincepencenow to give him an opportunity to gain some points — any points — with Dino Nation.”

The Kamalaharris raised a short arm to object, but the Mincepencenow cut her off.

“Yes, let’s get into the specifics that our dear dinos at home want to hear.”

“Mr. Vice President, what can you tell us about the T-Rump’s health? There has been a glaring lack of transparency on this note.”

“Yes, well, the Obamarus did a terrible, terrible job on the swine flu.”

“We’re not talking about the swine flu.”

“But the Obamarus is indeed a swine. A spying swine.”

“Moving on, Mr. Vice President, on the topic of the Grandoldparty dinos trying to jam through the Amyconeybarrett nomination as the next Dino Supreme Court Justice …”

“Soleimani. Soleimani, Soleimani, Soleimani.”

“What?”

“The T-Rump killed him. Long live the T-Rump.”

“Last chance, Mr. Vice President. Dinos with pre-existing conditions …”

“Thank you for that great question.”

“But I haven’t even asked it yet.”

He turned to the Kamalaharris.

“I have a better question for you. You’re going to stack the Dino Supreme Court if you win, aren’t you?”

A fly landed on the Vice President’s head.

“Go ahead, say yes or I will for you.”

She cocked an eye.

“There’s a fly on your head.”

“No, there’s not.”

“I’m afraid she’s right,” the moderator chimed in. He snorted in disgust.

“And here we see, once again, the Mediacircustops left backing up another socialist claim.”

The Kamalaharris pointed at him.

“He’s laying an egg.”

“I am not. Stop playing politics with people’s lives.”

“That’s rich. Red regions, blue regions, anyone?”

“You’re not entitled to your own facts.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to step in here,” said the Susanpage. “Mr. Vice President, your boss has told 20,000 documented lies. How can you possibly squat there and say such a thing?”

“Because … because …” 

And he launched into song.

Oh-oh, yes, I’m the debate pretender

Pretending that T-Rump’s doing well

My need is such that I’ll say this much

I think we’re all going to hell

Oh-oh, yes, I’m the debate pretender

A stiff for the goof on his throne

I’ll play his game but to my real shame

He’d ditch me to grift on his own

To kneel before him and to hear his spiel

To kneel’s the deal and now hear me squeal

Yes, I’m the debate pretender

Just lining up beside this clown

It seems we all have been caught, pity

My nose is still the darkest brown

Pretending that we won’t go down

To kneel before him and to hear his spiel

To kneel’s the deal and now hear me squeal!

Yes, I’m the debate pretender

Just lining up beside this clown

It seems we all have been caught, pity

My nose is still the darkest brown

Pretending that we won’t go down

………………………………

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!

Categories
Donald Trump Humor Political Satire

Who Will It Be Now? …

“Look,” the Markmeadows put on his serious, burnt-red-cheek-bones look for the dozen dino doctors before him. “I know you guys pretty much tell the truth most of the time.”

“Ahem. That would be all the time,” said the blank-faced Seanconley.

“Really? Wow. That’s good. Real good. But I need you to forget about that for now because we need you to lie for us. A lot.”

“But what about transparency?”

“You’re not listening  We are making stuff up, doctor. Left and right. C-D-C, remember? Work with me now.”

“The, um, press briefing was supposed to start 20 minutes ago.”

“And they can wait another 20 minutes until we get our stories straight. Now then, no vitals, no lung damage report, no-no-no … and don’t even think about telling them when his last negative test was.”

“No negative test date? Not even as a public courtesy for those possibly infected?”

“Possibly? We’ve got projection models that show Trump’s numbers going through the roof.”

“And he thinks that’s his popularity and not the Covid cases.”

“How’d you guess? You should see the skeleton staff in the Oval Dwelling.”

“And that’s what they may well be in a month. It’s beginning to sound like we’d be better off just staying put. Why even go out there?”

“Because the T-Rump said so, because we are tragically behind in the polls and because the Moscowmitch is on life support panic mode that he’s going to lose his shot at a third Dino Supreme Court justice. Let me deal with the politics and you focus on the happy talk. Go ahead and throw in a chuckle if you want. Don’t laugh too much though. Nobody likes a loopy doctor.”

“Of course not.”

“So, we’re good then?”

“You bet. We’ve got this all under control.”

The dino doctors stepped out of the cave and stepped around the flat rock lectern to line up side-by-side, all ten of them. They locked arms and began swishing their tails about. Rhythmically.

The Markmeadows jaw dropped. Ohmigod. They were going to do a song and dance number. A song and dance number? N-o-o-o-o! Say it ain’t so!

Who will it be knocking Covid’s door?

That garden party sure ran up the score

We hope that T-Rump will be alright

Even though he’ll never see the light

Now Hopehix has to stay at home

Kellyanne was also in his zone

Tillis, Johnson knocked off-stride

And all those Mikelee hugged outside

Who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

Who will it be knocking Covid’s door?

Moscowmitch, afraid he’ll lose the floor

His third judge, now held at bay

All his cronies can’t come out to play

Ronnamcdaniel, up on the shelf

Like Chrischristie, she couldn’t help herself

Nature’s law, Billybarr could not bend

Quarantine welcomes all they send

Who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

The election will be here any day

T-Rump is on his knee

Say goodbye to his autocracy

There goes Mcenany

Uh-oh!

O-o-o-h, who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

Who will it be now?

………………………………

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!

Categories
Donald Trump Political Satire

Stand By …

The Chriswallace sighed deeply. What had he done to deserve this? Here he was, moderating the first Tyrumposaurus-Joebiden debate, a political landmark event 70 million dinos had showed up for. Wallace had hoped to pin this debate as the hallmark of his career, but all he could channel at this point were the 70 million salivating dinos behind him thinking the same thought. 

Don’t just sit there, do something!

The T-Rump had belittled, besmirched and basically interrupted the Joebiden every time the poor dino had opened his mouth.

The Chriswallace had tried. Oh, Lordy, how he’d tried to control the uncontrollable. He’d interjected nicely at first, then raised his voice to match their level before finally lowering himself, as an abused victim might, cajoling the T-Rump that perhaps he would actually enjoy the next question. If only to stop the ranting and raving. This was after all the leader of the free-running dino world. And he now had to ask this important question again because the free-running dino world depended on it.

“Will you denounce the white-striped supremacy dinos?”

“What do you want me to call them?”

“Please pay attention. I just told you.”

“The Not-So-Proud Boy dinos,” prompted the Joebiden.

“I’m not talking to you,” snapped the T-Rump. “I think I’ll just debate Chris now. You’re not from a blue region, are you, Chris? Because all blue region dinos are nasty dinos. Very nasty.”

“Oh, no you don’t. We’re waiting for your response, T-Rump. And no vague recollections or banal, dust in the wind generalities. We must have specifics. I would like a direct, full-throated repudiation so that this dino democracy may actually outlive you.”

“It’s all the left’s fault. Those Antifasauarae, you’d better watch out, Joe. They’ll overthrow you.”

“Will you shut up, man?”

That finally shut up the T-Rump for a few seconds. The Chriswallace took another stab. 

“We’re waiting, T-Rump.”

The dino divider-in-chief harrumphed and frowned.

“Alright then. But I’m going to sing my response.”

The Joebiden smirked.

“I’ve heard of dog whistles but this is ridiculous.”

The Chriswallace would take small victories where he could, no matter how sublime.

And so somewhere in the wasteland that was Covid a dino began snapping his fingers to an old familiar beat.

When the night … has come

And I raise my thumb

And then soon with my tweet you’ll see why

So the votes, when they’re made

Oh, when I feel betrayed

So be strong and stand back

And stand by

Get startin’ marchin’

Stand back for now, oh, stand by and spy

Oh, stand back, just stand back 

And stand by

And that’s why this election is

A good rumble this fall

And the Biden should stumble, he ain’t spry

You won’t die, you won’t die

Like Covid, have no fear

Just as long as you stand back

And stand by

Get startin’ marchin’

Stand back for now, oh, stand by and spy

Oh, stand back, just stand back

And stand by

Startin’ marchin’

Stand back for now, oh, stand by and spy

Oh, stand back, I’m your guy

And stand by

So, until there is trouble, just stand back for now

Oh, stand by, that’s how

Won’t you stand back?

Stand back and stand by

………………………………

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!

Categories
Donald Trump Humor Political Satire

Election Rigging …

The Tyrumposaurus tossed and turned in his sleep. Three Cheezbuggabuggas and a couple of Dietcokers battled valiantly in his belly. But that was only half the passed gas. Tomorrow’s big debate with the Joebiden weighed heavily on his mind. He hadn’t prepared anything. Why start now? Oh, he’d tried doing a mock battle with the Rudygiuliani playing the role of the Joebiden but it wouldn’t work because they kept lying to each other. Just the thought of the Joebiden trying to outlie him made his cold blood boil. No, he would go with his gut, once it quieted down.

But there was more. Those damn, conniving, sniveling Mediacircustops were at it again. The Newyorktimesian dino — from his home region! A damning disaster of a story. On a Sunday, no less. Who does such a thing? Damn their skinny-tailed, fake news lies. Now Dino Nation would think he, the glorious T-Rump, actually owed moolah-moolah leaves. Four million. Due in four years. And he was down to his last 700,000, give or take. Hadn’t he given that much to the Tyvanka for showing up every now and then in the Oval Dwelling? Of course he’d overvalued his many luxury caves along the way. The authorities simply forgot to take into account their sentimental value. That was it.

The Mytaxus Returnus skins he shed in a pair of recent Aprils amounted to 750 moolah-moolah leaves each time. A plug-in number. But it was the thought that counted. He didn’t want to be accused of not shedding some tax skin for 13 of 18 years. 11 was bad enough. But now he was in deep dino doo-doo. Four years would fly by. The past four had. But look at what he’d accomplished. Then the debt-collecting dino would be at his door. He had to win the November Battle and do away with term limits or all was lost.  

His stomach gurgled anew and he drifted off into the abysmal abyss where dark nightmares of Solitary Sinkhole customs unfolded and Yellow Submarinae dinos roamed, singing an ominous soundtrack that looped in his mind, playing over and over, laying bare the stark truths of the only game plan he had left.

Ah, look at all the only evil

Ah, look at all the only evil

Election rigging jacks up the price with the worst virus spreading again 

T-Rump’s playing mean

Base for the bimbo, swearing in case it may keep him as czar for four more

Armed for a war

All the only evil

All under T-Rump’s thumb

All the only evil

How could they be so wrong?

Robber McConnell fighting absurd for the battleground legalese dear

It becomes clear 

Look at him smirking, jamming the court with a judge, what he once called unfair 

How does he dare?

All the only evil

All under T-Rump’s thumb

All the only evil

How could they be so wrong?

Ah, look at all the only evil

Ah, look at all the only evil

Election rigging, Day of the Lurch, they all scurried, all strong with his name

The mail then came

After the frenzy, Biden is first, T-Rump stands and he blocks with a wave.

Democracy’s grave

All the only evil

(Ah, look at the only evil)

All under T-Rump’s thumb

All the only evil

(Ah, look at the only evil)

How could they be so wrong?

………………………………

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!

Categories
Donald Trump Humor

It’s Time to Resign …

“My fellow respected Grandoldparty dinos, rest assured, there will be a peaceful transition.”

The Moscowmitch looked over his gathered cohorts, the Bensasse, the Randpaul and the Lindseygraham, a conservative crew that had his back no matter how many dino tots were snatched from their mothers and lost in the wilds, no matter how drastic the steps taken for suppressing the dino vote or however morally corrupt the latest sabotage of dino doctors’ efforts to quell the Coronavirus pandemic. They were as loyal as the Alcaponus Sidekickasaurae species. And then some. The Bensasse raised a short arm.

“So, uh … what the T-Rump said about the ballots being a disaster and there being no transfer, just a continuation of power. Like I told the Mediacircustops, he’s always talking crazy stuff. He’s just kidding, right? Heh-heh.”

No one else was laughing. The Moscowmitch nodded.

“Look, Ben. I’m just putting this peaceful transition malarkey out there so I can get some sleep the next six weeks. I don’t need the Mediacircustops outside my cave 24-7.”

“Yeah,” echoed the Randpaul. “You gotta work on your distraction, Ben. Get your face out there more. Like me this week. I really told off the Tonyfauci at the Coronavirus hearing with my big statistic about us just needing 22% for herd immunity.”

“You mean herd mentality,” said the Bensasse.

“You idiots!” hollered the Moscowmitch

“But that’s what the T-Rump called it. Herd mentality.”

“When you’re the leader of the free-running dino world,” said the Lindseygraham, “you can say anything and the nation will believe you.”

“Anything?”

Anything.”

“So, um … that means those 20,000 T-Rump lies reported by the Washingtonpostian dino, they were all actually, uh … lies?”

“Please,” interrupted the Moscowmitch. “Let’s not dwell on the past. His first thousand lies blended in normally with the next thousand and so on. I call it mind-numbing normalization and I don’t need the coronary that comes with explaining it. Crazy stuff. Stick with crazy stuff. Ha-ha. Ho-ho. Hee-hee.”

“Hee-hee.” A nervous laugh from the Bensasse. The Moscowmitch turned away.

“Now then, we’ve got bigger fish-like dinos to fry. The Supreme Dino Court justice to be sworn in. Sight unseen. I like the sound of that. Such power. So random.”

“Like Randompaul, here,” said the Bensasse.

“That’s Randpaul.” 

The Moscowmitch frowned.

“Okay, everyone, let’s put our heads together on how to bamboozle Dino Nation one more time on the fraudulent ballot front. Make them forget the pandemic is causing all that extra mail.”

The Moscowmitch began pacing his cave, head down.

“Suppress the vote, suppress the vote, we need to suppress the –”

He looked up into the face of the Adamschiff, standing in the entrance.

“Adam?”

“Did you say suppress the vote?”

“Why, uh, no. I said .. uh, I said …”

“Supper’s the goat,” the Bensasse jumped in. “He said ‘supper’s the goat,’ yessiree.”

“But you don’t like goat, do you, Mitch?”

“No, I don’t. But, you see, uh … my doctor has me doing detox, so I figured I would just eat it and immediately regurgitate it. Clean out my innards once and for all. Kick start the bad stuff, don’t you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“What in blue blazes are you doing here?”

“Well, I was just talking with the Rachelmaddow the other night and I thought, what the hey, I would bring my message straight to you.”

“We don’t want your damn message,” snapped a seething Lindseygraham, eyes afire. “You just came to dump on the T-Rump, didn’t you? Our dedicated leader who’s a grifter. I mean a horrible dino who’s brilliant, I mean …”

“Lindsey! Shut the hell up!” sputtered the Moscowmitch. “Ahem. Okay, Adam, I’ll agree with half of what Lindsey said. That is, I’m not going to have you badmouthing the T-Rump on my turf.”

“I’m afraid we’re beyond that. No, I’m before you minus the olive branch but with an honest broach.”

“Huh?”

“Discussion. Of sage advice.”

“Oh. No thanks, we’ll pass.”

“Well, I was planning to sing … and there are musical remnants of ideologically influenced undertones of Kentucky Bluegrass. In a couple of notes.”

The ears of the Moscowmitch and the Randpaul perked up.

“Kentucky Bluegrass, huh? You don’t say.”

The low wind whistled and the Adamschiff sang.

He’s breaking all the rules, those that used to bend 

You’ve turned a grifter into this unholy friend

I want to tell you, I want to make it clear

You know it, it is time to resign

You know he’s playing a killing game

Ignoring 200-thousand Covid has claimed

He’s so out of touch, he has crossed the line

You know it, it is time to resign

It’s time to resign

It’s time to resign

It’s time to resign

Don’t back his crime

He’s not alright, it’s not too late

This vaccine talk now, he says he’ll pick the date 

He’s politicking, calling science blind

You know it, it is time to resign

It’s time to resign

It’s time to resign

It’s time to resign

Don’t back his crime

Transition rules

He plays the fool

What will he do now? And how can you remain true? 

Don’t hold him up then, he’s not joking this time

You know it, it is time to resign

It’s time to resign

It’s time to resign (It’s time to resign)

It’s time to resign (Don’t hold him up now)

It’s time to resign (Y-e-e-e-e-a-h)

It’s time to resign (It’s time to resign, now)

It’s time to resign (No, don’t hold him up)

It’s time to resign (It’s time to resign)

It’s time to resign (Y-e-e-e-e-a-h)

It’s time to resign

………………………………

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!

Categories
Donald Trump Satire The T-Rump Dig

We Miss You …

The Moscowmitch was beside himself with glee. News of the Ruthbaderginsburg’s passing had just reached his cave twenty minutes earlier and he was already planning on filling her vacancy on the Dino Supreme Court. He’d brought together his underlings, a.k.a Sin Hut dinos, in an emergency celebration, ahem … meeting.

“Good things happen in threes,” he exclaimed. “Three justices in four years for the T-Rump. Can you stand it?”

He turned to the Lindseygraham.

“Sorry, Lindsey, I’m afraid I have to ask you one more time, what with you being on the record on both sides of the issue. Can we count on you to vote for our nominee, whomever it may be?’

“For the last time, I told everybody they can forget what I said four years ago. I was rather emphatic about it then. And I’m very emphatic about it now. I’m in, dammit. I’m in. Sheesh. It’s really not that big a deal. A Dino Supreme Court justice. Big whoop.”

“You don’t have a shred of credibility left, do you? Welcome to the true Grandoldparty fold. I believe you’ve finally exorcised all things Johnmccain in whatever soul you have left.”

The Moscowmitch scanned the cave.

“The Susancollins. Where’s the Susancollins?”

“Eh? I’m over here.”

“Susan, what’s this nonsense about you having the tarnation, turkey giblet gall to suggest we should wait until after the November battle to make our gawd-granted decision?”

“You mean, assuming we win?”

“Oh, no you don’t! I won’t have you spoiling our little Supreme Court Opening party. Hold your tongue, Sin Hut dino.”

“Well, I was just saying how unfair it seems. I’ve already downgraded the unfairness from ‘very’ to ‘kind of’. I say there are lessons to be learned here, which puts me w-a-a-a-y ahead of whatever lessons that Betsydevos is doing. I’ve done a good job of saving face in the throes of these Grandoldparty shenanigans by scolding our guilty dinos. And there are so many. Oh, goodness. Did I just say that? But let me be clear. Scolding is all I can do. I rarely if ever follow through on my consternation. It’s a controlled consternation. As well as I can, anyway. Unfortunately, my dinos at home are showing plenty of consternation as well. Not as controlled as mine, it seems. I may even be on my way out. If that happens, will you keep me and feed me, Moscowmitch?”

“Well …”

“Remember, I did vote for impeachment.”

“Oh, look, a fresh batch of Caviarraptor legs have arrived.”

“Where?”

The Moscowmitch used the distraction to exit the conversation. The Corygardner saw him heading his way and quickly exited the cave stage right. The Lisamurkowski wasn’t so lucky. 

“Lisa.” 

“A-g-g-g-g-h!” She jumped back a foot. 

“How much dark moolah-moolah leaves is it going to take to convince you to fall into line on this issue?”

“I’m sorry. Are you speaking to me?”

She was positively trembling. The wild look in her eyes didn’t help matters. The Grandoldparty insiders had a name for her intermittent condition. GONZO … Gawking Openly Netting Zero Output.

“I asked you how much will it take?”

“I – I don’t know what to say.” She looked around and fidgeted nervously. “There’s so many dinos here, close together.”

“Don’t worry. I did saliva tests on most of the dinos before they came in. With my own tongue. See?”

He stuck out his long, discoloured tongue.

“A-g-g-g-g-h!” 

The Lisamurkowski recoiled again. With a loud slurp, his tongue recoiled back inside his mouth. She held her short arms to her chest.

“No, you don’t understand. I’m used to being alone, in Athabasca-Alaska.”

“Oh.”

“So, I hope you don’t mind if I brought a friend, the Peterframpton, with me. He’s my therapy dino companion. For those, um … cold, Athabasca-Alaskan nights? And he can sing too.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he wrote a song about the Ruthbaderginsburg?”

“And I suppose you think I’m going to let him sing it at my Supreme Court Opening party?”

“Would you let him sing if I told you I was a … ‘maybe’?”

“Peter! What are you waiting for?! Sing the damn song!”

 

You did dare where to go

What you did do

Then you died and left us

Equality

We miss you, R-B-G

We miss you, R-B-G

‘Cause you rose far above

Above what we ever had

Yes, you rose far above

Above what we ever had

They can’t wait to upend

And get hold of

Your old seat, to power

They are clinging

We miss you, R-B-G

We miss you, R-B-G

‘Cause you rose far above

Above what we ever had

You rose far above

Above what we ever had

 

We’re alarmed when we think

Of this fall

You are why laws were made

From on high

We miss you, R-B-G

We miss you, R-B-G

‘Cause you rose far above

Above what we ever had

Yes, you rose far above

Above what we ever had

You rose far above

Above what we ever had

You did dare where to go

What you did do

………………………………

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!

Categories
Donald Trump Humor Political Satire

The T-Rump Dig Podcast … Days 1334 & 1338

https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-jke6y-ec4290

This week’s T-Rump Dig rock collection features … Day 1334 — “Changes” … The Tyrumposaurus can relate with the Davidbowie dino … and Day 1338 — “Mr. Caputo” … The Stegastyx dinos are the feature entertainment at the latest T-Rump rally. … Kudos to David Bowie and Styx for musical inspiration.