https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-xhq7m-efa3d7
This week’s pair of T-Rump Traxx include: Day 1362 — “Mar-a-Guano” … The T-Rump gets a lot done at his Neverglades flogging resort. For himself. … and Day 1366 — “Hunterbiden” … Is it an October surprise or a rehash of bad hash? … Dino tail wags to the Eagles and Jay Ferguson. Enjoy!
“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!
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!
https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-gajft-eeed83
This week’s double offering of T-Rump’s trials and tribulations include … Day 1355 — “Who Will It Be Now?” … The Oval Dwelling is awash with Coronavirus! … and Day 1359 — “Debate Pretender” … the Dino Vice President hopefuls square off against one another. … Big dino tail wags to Men At Work and The Platters.
“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!
“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!
https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-sms9t-ee1af3
This week’s podcast features: Day 1348 — “Election Rigging” … It’s that time of year when the Grandoldparty dinos pull out all the stops … and Day 1352 — “Stand By” … A slip of the tongue lands the T-Rump in some very hot swamp water. Dino tail wags to the Beatles and Ben E. King for satirical inspiration. Enjoy!
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!
https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-hzc3m-ed449d
On tap this week, a T-Rump two-fer: Day 1341 — “We Miss You” … The shock and awe of a Moscowmitch power trip … and Day 1345 — “It’s Time to Resign” … A senior Donkeykongrus has a message for Grandoldparty dinos. … Dino tail wags to Peter Frampton and Triumph.
David Belisle