HAPPY DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN, I THINK

Trumponicles: The Last Days, Part 1

In the last days of his career as the worst president in our history, POTUS continues piling up achievements.

The House of Representatives honored him with an article of impeachment for inciting an insurrection that made him the first president ever to be impeached TWICE, as his official guide to capital punishment would put it. He lives for RECOGNITION.

Another feather in his MAGA hat was the House call for the Vice President to do his duty and begin proceedings to declare the chief executive unfit to serve in office, the first time since the ratification of the 25th amendment in 1969. All the Pusillanimous Pence had to do was get assent from a majority of the cabinet, a body that seems to have fallen into the sixth dimension and disappeared, except for the commerce secretary, Sleepy Wilbur Ross, who hasn’t been awake after 11 AM for the last four years.

He was already first in paying off porn stars, first in withholding tax returns, first in profiting from his real estate and other brands while in office as the boss of the Gang That Couldn’t Loot Straight.

The one thing that really might have hurt, though, was Coach Bill Belichick turning down the Presidential Medal of Freedom, an honor that usually goes to great American icons and friends of the president like Rush Limbaugh. He is now free to award himself the medal for all he has done for his country by sticking to baseless claims that the election of 2020 was stolen from him, a selfless act that is hailed by the base, the 74 million plus idiots and other yahoos who voted for him in November.

He is taking all the slings and arrows of abuse now just because he is alleged to have encouraged the attack on the Capitol by Trumpistas mobs last Wednesday.

“Who, moi?,” his defense might be in a coming trial in the Senate.  “All I did was pour oil on the hot coals in the Barbie, the eternal flame in the hearts of people who believe in God, guns and grits, marriage between a man and woman, white lives matter, and law and disorder.”

What started as a leaking roof with the odd Republican legislator or two finding fault with their president as they go out the door, has now become a tsunami. With Mitch the tabler-in-chief in the Senate joining the rising tide, it is now politically correct: Trump Must Resign in disgrace.      

None of this would have happened if the inexperienced, incompetent, stupid, real estate development con man who had   defeated crooked Hillary with almost three million fewer votes in 2016 had taken my advice.

I was so sure his administration would be short-lived, I had taken the liberty of working on a draft of the new president’s Farewell Address after his reading of the last line of the Inaugural Address of 2016.

“For the good of the nation,“ my first draft explained, “for the good of the party, and to keep my family out of jail,” he was stepping down, following his doctor’s orders. A combination of his bone spurs and high cholesterol due to addiction to McDonald Quarter Pounders made him a health risk in the job.

Sure enough, his slaving way on the job for four years, despite having set records in the number of days on vacation at his   properties and visiting his golf courses (16 around the world) at taxpayer’s expense, his orange hair has turned positively gray.  

A disgraced Richard “I’m no crook” Nixon, I can remind the unpresident now, became a respected elder statesman. The American people are quick to forget.  In his case he already has a base of 74 million plus brainless who were ready to give him four more years, despite his habit of lying whenever his mouth was open.

 A nice final gesture, Mister ex-President: instead of urging your loyal followers to visit the Capitol again on Inaugural Day you might borrow a page from American history. As Andrew Jackson invited the common people to visit his White House, it would be Jacksonesque of you to invite your followers to stop by in your last day as a populist to pay their respects at your White House. And keep the punch bowl open! 

Whatever you do to get out of the fix you’re in, sir, January 20th is a sad day for pundits. We won’t have Donald John Trump to kick around any more.

 Marvin Kitman
 January 14, 2020

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