Look, we all know that the saggy sack of bullshit, drool, and dried semen that is Donald Trump has long been a pathetic figure. From his pretending to be a masterful real estate speculator on The Apprentice to his carnival sideshow of ludicrous products with his name on them, Trump is like a bloated Elvis impersonator whose girth can't be contained in the sequined white outfit anymore, although at least that manque' Elvis had some honor in his life and was probably a whole lot less racist.
As we await the release of the Mueller report and the desperate spin that the White House and its subservient Justice Department will put on it, as we learn more and more that Attorney General William Barr is just another one of Trump's ass remoras, the president himself has seemed to grow smaller and smaller, even as he fluffs himself like a half-mad aging male porn star who can't get hard when he pops Viagra by the handful and injects cocaine right into his dick.
He's just so fucking pathetic and not in a sense of "pathos," but more in a "goddamn, I can't even stand to look at that worthless motherfucker anymore - it makes me sick" way.
At a "roundtable" discussion (if by "roundtable," you mean, "Sure, fine, the table was physically round and that's about it") on Monday in Burnsville, Minnesota, Trump repeatedly mentioned his 2016 campaign and victory. No, really.
Early on, right after saying something about the fire at Notre Dame Cathedral that faked concern, Trump immediately veered into how much better he was than Hillary Clinton in 2016: "I was criticized — coming up, I was criticized that I didn’t raise as much money as Hillary Clinton, that I only spent half. It’s actually much less than half. But I don’t want to tell. And in the old days, if you would spend less and win, you got credit. Today you have to spend more and win. So if I would’ve spent more, I would’ve been given a lot more credit. But the fact is we did spend a lot less money — much, much less money — than the Democrats. And we won."
We are two-and-a-half years past the election of 2016. Yet this craven, miserable son of a bitch keeps wanting to relive a moment where maybe his shitty father would have given him a warm handshake to celebrate. Trump brought it up again: "There’s a great movement in this country, and it started with that very special day in November. Remember that day? Was that a great day? November. November 2016." God, the brain worms keep whispering this to him.
And then, in a "discussion" that was supposed to be about "the economy and tax reform," Trump mentally lumbered off like a drunk Frankenstein's monster, and he talked about North Korea (no shit, he said that people told him that there were earthquakes going on there, but he knew it was nuclear testing) and the fuckin' ISIS caliphate and the fuckin' Golan Heights and the embassy in Jerusalem, which he said cost just $500,000 when it cost at least $21 million. "We’re using all Jerusalem stone," he claimed, which would be fuckin' idiotic.
Seriously, the head of Sergio's Family Restaurants and the general manager of Liberty Landscape Supply, brought there to massage Trump's taint and tell him how amazeballs he is, had to wonder what the fuck was going on.
Trump sounds more and more like a man who is worried that his days are numbered and that he'd better make sure that his story is told the way he wants it told, not how the failing news media would tell it, with its innumerable failures and buffoonery and evil, intentional and unintentional.
Gird your loins for more fuckery tomorrow after the report drops. He'll be screeching like a meth-addicted mongoose if he thinks it says even one small thing against him. Let's be there to cage him and ship him away.
