Tag: Donald Trump

It was the opening night of the Grandoldparty National Conference at the Andrewmelanoma Cavern. The Tyrumposaurus’ son, T-Rump Jr. approached the flat rock lectern. The dinos in the front row were taken aback by his teary-eyed status. They looked and agreed with each other that he must be crying inside because no tears were coming forth.

“Good evening, I’m Donny T-Rump and my father is leader of Dino Nation so I get to speak on the first night. I was planning to speak right before my father on the last night, but the Tyvanka wanted that spot. So, here I am. I’m okay with it. I’m not crying. Really.”

“You know, when I open my mouth in our home cave, my dad will make fun of me — dad sarcasm I call it — and yes, sometimes he tells me I’m talking nonsense and to shut the hell up. You should hear what he says to Eric. Anyway, my point is, he will treat you better than me. Yeah, his own son. Because the Grandoldparty is the home of free speech. Just don’t get in the way of my old man when he wants to cross the path to point to the sky at some heavenly body. We had to tell him it wasn’t a woman. Yeah!”

“But the Milkanhoney Preservation is the greatest place on earth. My father’s entire worldview, you know, the four places he can pick out, it really goes back to that famous quote from the Johneffkennedy, “Ask not what your dino nation can do for you but what you can do for my dad. He says you can always do better.”

“That means rejecting the radicals that want to drag us into the dark, down some path and do unspeakable things to us that well meaning conspiracy theorists on our side will then have a field day with. …. Uh, what’s that? Kimberly is making eye contact with me like she said she would if I, uh … entered a danger zone.”

He winked at her.

“Thanks, honey. My main squeeze, everyone. A bright, beautiful future is in store for us with my wife. I mean my dad. We need my father for four more years. That is, if you want a great job. Like I have. A beautiful cave. Like mine. And a perfect family and perfect partner. Me again. Kimberly, get up here and prove me wrong. Dinos! My beautiful, perfect not-yet-but-maybe-wife, the Kimberlyguilfoyle!”

Kimberly tromped over to the flat rock lectern. They went to kiss each other on the cheek but weren’t in sync. They bumped heads instead.   

“Uh, ohmigod, hello, everyone. I’m the Kimberlyguilfoyle, that’s right, the Gavinnewsom’s ex. We were married for five years. Then I married the Ericvillency for three years. That makes my average marriage four years. Do you want me for another four years?”

Bizarre looks from the crowd.

“Of course you do. Because I know a winner when I see one. The T-Rump! And Junior of course. I want to say right up front that I, like my husband and the T-Rump and every last dino who sips from the swamp, we’re all really, really sweet dinos with only nice things to say. That’s us. We want to welcome all dinos into this deep-rooted, heart-warming, transactional relationship.”

“The nicest thing I can say about the Joebiden is that he is a socialist comrade. He would swim backwards … underwater with his legs tied together by his tail … to Cuba-Scuba and Venezuela-Wayla …to bring back their destructive, socialist policies. The Joebiden and company won’t wait for an earthquake. No way. He wants to destroy Dino Nation and everything that we have fought for and hold dear right now. He wants to take the dirt from the floor of your cave. The dirt from your floor! You might go outside and get some more, but that was special dirt! You walked on it! It had that … feeling between your toes, right?”

“They want to control what you see. What you think. What you believe. They want to get inside your head. Inside your walnut. Who are these people? They want to control how you live. Remember the dirt. Louder, dinos! Remember the dirt!”

Several dinos had worried looks on their faces. Donny Jr. looked like he was crying and smiling at the same time, the happy tears trapped in his eyeballs. Kimberly was just warming up.

“The T-Rump said what you’re seeing and what you’re reading is not what’s happening. I’m sorry, but we cannot be more transparent than that. We really can’t. Blame it on the Joebiden. We no longer know what we’re doing because their actions are so diabolical they’re brainwashing us.”

The T-Rump Jr.’s main squeeze looked like her brain was being squeezed, caught in some obscene exorcism with the devil winning.

“They want to enslave us all to the weak, dependent, liberal, victim ideology — only red dinos can be victims. I know, it’s confusing. To the point you will not recognize Dino Nation or yourself, or your children or the dirt on your own floor.”

She turned to Donny Jr.

“You still recognize, don’t you? Donny?”

“What, the dirt on the floor?”

“Me, dummy!”

He tromped back to the lectern.

“I – I recognize you. Sure I do. At least I think I do. Baby, you need some hydroxychloroquine. So your eyes can be like mine. We’re in this together, Kimmy. Say, are you okay to sing? Because it’s time to sing our song.”

“I don’t know. I’m hearing voices in my head. Those damn Donkeykongrus. You go ahead, Donny, I’m with you in spirit.”

“Spirit, you say? Nothing else?”

She nodded hopefully.

“Okay, pumpkin squashy-kins. The Donkeykongrus can have their stupid, silly summer of love. We know better, don’t we? Hit it!”