Correct Me If I’m Wrong, But Is That Irony?

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Trump famously demonstrating fear and how to orgasm at the same time in front of united Caucasians. Image Source

It is no secret that I am whole-heartedly opposed to current president of the United States himself dictator wannabe, Donald “Father of asshole, Donald Trump Jr.” Trump. My enormous disdain must be similar to how slave owners felt about Abraham Lincoln, or how white supremacists felt about Barack Obama. But that is neither here nor there.

What is here and there is how much I despise this walking piece of garbage appropriately named Trump.


Look at his natural resting stance. His disgusting gut hanging all over the fucking place, like shit slopping out of his shithole towers, that thing on top of his head constantly losing to nature, flopping all over the place like weak grass, his man-made orange skin which surrounds the ghost white skin around his beady eyes: this is Trump, the product of U.S. electoral votes.

Don’t get me started on that grating voice of his which sounds like eight Nickelback songs playing at once on top of some craptastic Nicki Minaj song (To be clear, that’s most of her recordings). It broadcasts chaotic dissonance, yet with competent three-part harmonies of lies, hatred, and bravado. Most disturbing, the content of this child’s thoughts spewed like vomit all over the airwaves. Though to his credit, I have never witnessed this sort of televised coverage on any political leader. It is a constant barrage.

What really nags my pony is how during his rallies, he’s “riffing” like a comedian. He should take the mic off the podium and pace back and forth. That way, when his material like: “What’s so wrong with being friends with Russia? Huh? Seriously, I think it would be a good thing, a very good thing. But my opponents, especially the fake news think it would be so terrible. They say I’m colluding…” would seem like failing material and not the words of a stupid dictator.

I would like to admit to a guilty pleasure. To Drumpf’s inadvertent credit, I enjoy his impression of the competent robot president. It’s comical that he thinks being polite is phony baloney politics. It’s comical that most of America thinks that he wants to have sex with his daughter, Ivanka. Since I am no longer sure if this is kind of funny or kind of not, I must brand it as ironic.

On a complete side note, I am enjoying how the plot of this reality show, The White House, is evolving with the introduction of David Pecker. First of all, very hilarious name, David, and secondly, he is the head of the pinnacle of fake news: The National Enquirer (I am aware that I am neither italicizing nor quotation marking this publication). I look forward to future history books or blogs that have to footnote and define this rag. Most of all, I love stories where the creator has to destroy the monster it created, for example Frankenstein and the book of Revelations of the Holy Bible.

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