Categories
Donald Trump Humor Satire

Kentucky Moron …

“Uh, it’s good to see you back in the Oval Dwelling,” said the Moscowmitch. “It’s too bad you had to cut short your holiday at Mar-a-Guano.”

“I had to,” grunted the Tyrumposaurus. “I couldn’t sit there staring at the Tymelania’s gawd-awful scratchings on the wall one more minute, dammit!” 

“Was it Be Best or Be Worst?”

Awkward silence. The T-Rump wasn’t biting.

“Uh, well then, perhaps we should cut to the chase. Why exactly did you want to see me today?”

“Because I wanted to hear from your own mouth how the Joshhawley is doing a bang-up job, coming out like he did, ready to contest the dino electoral college votes in a few days’ time. I need to hear your warm, ringing, good cheer praise for his actions. Right here. Right now.”

Like a sudden, large bullfrog burp, the Moscowmitch’s cheeks inflated with surprise. Full of air too, but nothing close to resembling words of affirmation.

“A-hah! I was right. You can’t do it. Whose side are you on, Mitch?”

“Well … I – I did put your anti-Mediacircustops and your election fraud commission requests in the bill. Consider it dead. Dead on arrival, T-Rump. Like the other 400 stone dead bills in my cave.”

“Not good enough. Not by a longshot. Haven’t seen you in days. Hmm. The Mincepencenow has been avoiding me as well.” He pointed an accusing claw at the Moscowmitch. “You and him. You’re plotting together against me. Go ahead and admit it. I know a good conspiracy theory when I see one.”

“I don’t even like him. It’s downright embarrassing watching him … I’m sorry. I said too much. I know you enjoy his fawning adulation.”

The T-Rump had already moved on.

“And what’s with this whole kerfuffle in the Georgia Orchard? I’m going down there and have no idea what the hell I’m getting into. The Davidperdue and the Kellyloeffler want to give the dinos two thousand moolah-moolah leaves but they don’t want to say my election was rigged because they want their own votes. And you added my issues to your bill and now the dinos won’t get their two thousand that I’ve been screaming about. How the hell did we even get here? What moron is responsible for this?”

“Well, T-Rump. You’ve said a mouthful but allow me to explain.”

“Oh, so I’m the moron, am I?”

“N-o-o-o-o.”

“I’m not the moron. You’re the moron! You’re the moron! Neil! Get in here right now! ” 

The Neildiamond sheepishly entered the room and found a spot to the side of the cave. The T-Rump snorted.

“I’m not nuts. Ahem. I’ll just keep getting a second opinion. Meanwhile, I’m going to set you straight, you turkey gobbling, grey-waddled, old goofy gofer. My goofy gofer. Who is not in my corner. Hmph. We’ll see about that. Maximum embarrassment. Maximum in-your-face embarrassment. Go ahead, Neil. Let him have it.”

The musical dino raised a short arm.

“I, uh … made a few last minute adjustments …”

“Shut up and sing.”

Kentucky moron

He lines up his own to the right

He only confronts

And he tells you all to sit tight

And his power, God knows, his power

Kentucky moron

He only shows you

How much he owns you

Kentucky moron

Well, you see his turtle head turn

To excuses too lame

Vaccine aside, he’s the big shot

Of poison pill fame

And you can’t flee

God knows, you can’t flee

Kentucky moron

He only shows you

How much he owns you

Kentucky moron

He’s out of touch

Who gave Satan back his seat?

Georgia’s touch

Just the girl to

Knock him down, sit for good

Ain’t no doubt, gotta get him out

Kentucky moron

He only shows you

How much he owns you

Kentucky moron

He’s out of touch

Who gave Satan back his seat?

Georgia’s touch

Just the girl to

Knock him down, sit for good

Ain’t no doubt, gotta get him out 

Kentucky moron

He only shows you

How much he owns you

Kentucky moron

Kentucky moron

Kentucky moron

……………………………

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 Satire

Fixing a Hole …

The pain. Oh, the pain. The Tyrumposaurus had a splitting, smack-between-the-eyes, double-migraine headache that had him seeing stars, stripes and the red glare of ex-PLO-sion … after … ex-PLO-sion. That damn Joebiden. A pox on the Donkeykongrus. And all his namby-pamby Grandoldparty dinos, afraid to call out the widespread fraud that had stolen the election from him. He was loath to admit they had cheated better than him. They would pay. They would all pay for this gross negligence of … of … fair play? He struggled with the phrase, even the concept, because it was a rather moot point with him.

In between the grimacing mental blasts of red glare, he took stock of the several milestones he’d accomplished thus far in his scorched earth policy. Because if he wasn’t happy, there would be no good cheer in Dino Nation. Not a hint of a smile. 

“Make them wait for the Covid relief package,” said a wee voice in the back of his head before being shot down by another red glare zinger. 

Benefits had already lapsed for millions of idle dinos. Check. If he didn’t sign, the dino government would soon shut down. The focus was squarely on him. Where it should be. The Davidperdue and the Kellyloeffler were in very awkward spots in the Georgia Orchard Sin Hut run-off next week. They needed him badly. Check. Pardons galore to his cronies to show the Muellersavus who was boss even if the Williambarr had recently exited stage left mumbling some face-saving fake news rhetoric.

But the T-Rump’s dino accomplices were abandoning him as he had 24 days left to rule. He made a mental note to remind a staffer, if any should be brave enough to come out from hiding, to research and triple-check all available avenues he could venture down to make life as miserable as possible for the everyday, garden-chewing-variety Donkeykongrus dino. Rumbling in his head aside, this was the perfect storm. Covid was doing it’s destructive job. He wasn’t doing his.

Yet he had made his point because it was his show. He’d pushed Dino Nation to the brink of mass riot. Alright already. The waiting game was over. He’d sign the bill. Not in weakness however. With strength. He’d sign it with lies. 

The sharp pangs of his headache finally began backing off, easing enough in their intensity to allow him to marshall more devilish thoughts. Within minutes he was back to normal, growling under his breath, ready to go on the attack. Headaches were the seed to his temper. What didn’t kill him made him yearn for more power, more destruction. To pass on said headache to others more deserving of it. This was the stage of negotiating — the art of the deal — to which he had lowered himself. Headaches all around. Migraine. Your-graine. 

He’d sign but with an attention-grabbing addendum. Tell them they will have to remove wasteful items from the bill. Make them add vaccine moolah-moolah and much, much more. That’s vague enough. Increase the payment to 2,000. And last but most importantly, make them focus strongly on the very substantial voter fraud which took place in the election. None of this would ever happen of course, but it showed his base exactly where he stood. Winning.

He smirked at his latest spin-to-win strategy and burst into song.

I’m fixing a hole where the pain gets in

And stops my mouth from slandering

A friend or foe

I’m killing the chance for those that need more

They can take up panhandling

Away they go

And it really doesn’t matter if

I’m wrong I’m right

I’ve just begun to fight

I’ve just begun

See my allies sitting there

They don’t like me, don’t want me in

And worry how I will settle the score

I’m hating the doom in a sorrowful way

And then my mouth is slandering

The bad words flow

And it really doesn’t matter if

I’m wrong I’m right

I’ve just begun to fight

I’ve just begun

Unemployed run aground

Military can never please me

Sign the stimulus, what for?

I’m marking the time for I can still pull strings

To make your cloud the darkest grey

And get your dough

I’m fixing a hole where the pain gets in

Stops my mouth from slandering

A friend or foe

How low I’ll go

I’m fixing a hole where the pain gets in

Stops my mouth from slandering

A friend or foe

How low I’ll go

……………………………

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!