Tag: donald trump (Page 24 of 32)

“All right, all right. Look at all of you. So many people. We have over twenty thousand people waiting outside who couldn’t get it, the hugest crowds. I’m gonna get right to it: next debate, I’m punching Hillary in the face. She deserves it! Maybe the eye, could be the jaw. I’ll pick my spot, and Crooked Hillary is going down. That’s how we used to elect presidents, but now we’re politically correct. I don’t have time to be politically correct, so I’m gonna punch her.

“But that’s not why I came here to Wilkes-Barre. I came to talk about my plan to make America great again. Bill Clinton is a serial rapist. He has raped many times, many rapes. Out on my golf course, where I would always beat him at golf, he would tell me stories. Rape this, rape that. Girl who came around with the drink cart? Raped! She came back around on the fourteenth hole. Raped again! Bill even got the caddy, a fine young man, one of my blacks. Spreads it around.

“But I talk bad. Oooh, Mr. Trump: you can’t say that, you can’t say this. There’s this tape of me, I said a bad word. Wash my mouth out with soap. A bad word. Not so bad, believe me, not so bad. Men in locker rooms talk this way all the time, worse. Wait til you hear what I say on the next tape, you’ll think the last tape was nothing. It’s nothing! Words. C’mon, words. Words don’t mean anything. Now listen to me carefully.

“Why are we talking about something I said when I could be defeating ISIS? Why are we talking about banter, locker room talk, guy talk when Obamacare kills ten thousand people a day? You have to remember that Sidney Blumenthal, Hillary’s bagman, was the first person to grab pussies. He did it first. In 2008, during the campaign, everyone knows this. What I said on that bus was Hillary’s fault.

“America is on fire. The failed Obama’s failed policies, which have failed, are a disaster. The worst! This morning in my security briefing, the generals told me some very interesting thing about the so-called president. Can’t read! Michelle, who is aging, has to explain things to him. Memorizes his speeches by sound. The generals also told me that the Wikileaks hacks are not coming from Russia, they said that specifically, not Russia. Tell me this: if Failed Obama wasn’t a failure, then why will he soon be one of the 57% of blacks in Chicago without a job? And who’s gonna hire him? Can’t read.

“The media, so crooked. Against me. Anderson Cooper and the woman, both very unfair to me. They twist my words and say that I disagreed with Mike Pence. Great guy, the best. Triple AAA guy, Pence. This thing with the tape, the bus, the grabbing, whatever: he calls me up and says, “Mr. Trump, let me put out a statement. You’re the only one who can save America.” He said that. His wife, Karen, lovely, great, she’s bitching at him. Gotta keep the peace! I say to release his little statement, I let him do that. “What you said wasn’t bad at all, Mr. Trump. I say things like that all the time.” Mike Pence said that to me on the phone, and then he said things that were way worse. Way worse, disgusting things. Great guy, big league governor, I made a great choice.

“Many legal scholars have told me that we can skip the trial and throw Hillary right in prison. Folks, she’s baby Hitler. You have a time machine? Go back in time, there’s baby Hitler, you kill him? Hillary is baby Hitler here. We have our chance, folks. We have our chance, and if we don’t take it, we’re all gonna die. Bill Clinton is building a secret army of rapebots, and we have a chance to stop it. They’re not even building the rapebots in the States, they’re from Mexico. Mexico is sending us their rapebots!

“The LA Times. Breitbart. Fox. Ken Bone. All for me. They know I won the debate, but the lying media, who are liars, lie. I was far more presidential at the debate, way more presidential, the most presidential. She doesn’t look right! Up close? Sick. That’s what I saw! Sick. Dying? I dunno dying, but sick. I know a lot about the medical. Many times when I go to the doctor, I end up teaching him stuff. So good with the medical. Hillary? Six months to live.

“I’m not saying the election is rigged, but the election is rigged. Maybe. I’m not saying it’s rigged. The election is rigged, you know what I’m saying. Who’s gonna steal this election from us? The blacks? Gotta be careful, folks. You see a black at the polls, what are they there for? Voting, looting, what? Keep an eye out! The blacks, who should vote for me, are going to steal the election from me. You won’t see this on CNN. Only I’ll tell you these things.

“She wants to arm people! Rebels, whoever. Russia sneezes, and Murdering Hillary, who is a war criminal, arms the rebels. That’s how she made Al Qaeda, which she also created in addition to ISIS. Meanwhile, Russia has nuclear, they’re killing us with nuclear. China has cyber, they’re killing us with cyber. What do we have? Blacks with no jobs and 33,000 missing e-mails. They’re laughing at us!

“Tweeting is a modern day form of communication. Like it or not. I have 40 million followers. Not on Instagram, I don’t get it. Barron? Great with Instagram, all the filters, the best. They say I tweeted about a sex tape. Wrong. C’mon. Hillary let those brave Americans die in Benghazi  for her own sexual pleasure. Everyone knows this, she’s a pervert like Bill, everyone knows this. I tweeted about that sex tape because that woman gained a lot of weight. At least I was up at three in the morning. What was Hillary doing? Covering up a rape?

“The media is going to try to tell you we’re losing, but they’re lying to you. Listen to me. These so-called Republicans. Very disloyal, very unfair to me. Maybe they get put in prison next to Jailbird Hillary? Traitors, right? What do you with a traitor, huh? Maybe I release a list of congressmen who have grabbed Kellyanne Conway? This is back when she was sort of hot, worked out a lot. If Trump is so against women, then how come I hired a woman who is no longer hot?

“Crooked Hillary is Satan, folks. She has rape in her heart. Hillary Clinton will outlaw guns and make abortions mandatory, except if you’re a Radical Islamic Muslim because we wouldn’t want to be insensitive. Her first day in office, she will give ISIS the nuclear, all the nuclear. Hillary Clinton will kill everything you love.

“Let’s make America again! Four more weeks! All right, great.”

It’s the bit from Scooby-Doo, that’s what’s been going on for a while now. Velma loses her glasses, and drops to her knees to search for them: completely blind, she feels around on the floor. That’s been Donald Trump looking for the line. Donald was going to find the line, dammit, and when he did: that sumbitch was getting crossed. But he couldn’t find it, not for months.

It wasn’t kicking off his campaign by calling Mexicans rapists, nor the fact that he lost a billion dollars in a year when the S&P index was up 37%. The line did not lie on Twitter, where he has repeatedly retweeted White Nationalists. Stating that a judge’s ethnicity should disqualify him from hearing a case was also not the line.

When he shook and rattled in his funniest spastic dance onstage to mock a disabled reporter, that was not the line, and neither was picking a fight with Gold Star parents whose son, a U.S. Army captain, was killed In Iraq running towards a car with a suicide bomber in it. His name was Humayun Khan, and he was trying to save the lives of the men and women under his charge, and all the strangers, too, and then Donald Trump picked a fight with his parents after he died from a suicide bomb in Iraq. Not the line, not the line, where’s the line.

Doing business in Cuba? No. Stiffing Polish construction workers? No. Claiming climate change is a hoax perpetrated by China? Nope. Threatening Japan and South Korea with extortion for military protection? Not even close. Hiring a campaign manager directly from the palace of the Ukrainian dictator? That actually worked for a week. Publicly declaring how much he’d like to fuck Putin? Not the line.

Not the taxes (none); not the bankruptcies (four); not the lawsuits (thousands). Not the utter and total dismantling of his main supposed selling point, which is that he’s a good businessman, the best. Let’s all say it again, together, and with feeling: if Donald Trump had taken the original stake of $14m that his daddy gave him, put it in an index fund, and not touched it, then he would actually be worth the the ten billion he lies about being. You cannot claim to be a good businessman when “doing nothing whatsoever” beats your best efforts. His business dealings did not contain the line.

He prepared for the presidential debate, the most-anticipated event in American culture that was not the Super Bowl in decades, by golfing with Roger Ailes. At the debate, instead of talking about the problems facing the nation, Trump chose to attack a daytime television host who rose to prominence throwing Koosh balls at people.

The people who represent him have been outstanding numbskulls, bombastic and delirious and immune to any reality not approved by Mr. Trump. If a serious candidate for president employed one–one!–of the belligerent dipshits that have been speaking for him daily, it would end his or her campaign. Hiring Katrina Pierson, and Hope Hicks, and Corey Lewandoski, and the “So What?” guy and then tasking them to be your public surrogates is a sign of incompetence so obvious that the only analogy would be one of those old-timey multi-winged planes that collapsed in flickery black-and-white the first time they tried to fly. None of them were the line.

But I forgot to say the end of the bit, the one from Scooby-Doo. Velma is looking for her glasses, but the gag is that she finds them, but they’re resting on the shoe of a monster.

Congratulations, Donald. Pussy grabbing was the line, and you finally found it, and crossed it, and I guess we all did, too. The Republican party is now leaving you, and taking their money and ground operations and voter lists and rolodexes with them. It’s a coin toss right now whether your running mate quits. It’s just you and your ugly children and rat-faced Rudy and desperate Christie in your tower, which must be feeling like a bunker right about now.You never had any friends, Don, but now you have no allies.

And in less than 24 hours, you will be on live teevee, in a format you have not prepared for, debating about topics you are not familiar with, and almost one hundred million people will be watching.

You found the line, Don, and then you crossed it. Good for you getting what you wanted. You’re a winner.

• Senator John McCain, Arizona.
• Representative Jason Chaffetz, a closet in Utah.
• Arnold Schwarzenegger, former governor of California. (Remember that shit?)
• Judge Joseph Wapner, 2nd People’s Court of Appeals (deceased).
• Rin Tin Tin, famous dog (also deceased).
• Senator Mike Crappo, Idaho. Huh huh. You said Crappo.
• H.P. Lovecraft. (H.P. was, and still is, perfectly fine with the racism, but the vulgarity was too much.)
• William Bennett, pompous scold and slot machine fancier.
• Mysterio, Spider-Man villain with a fishbowl for a head.
• Tony the Tiger, breakfast feline.
• Senator Kelly Ayotte, New Hampshire.
• A picturesquely rotting barn, also New Hampshire.
• Billy Bob Thornton’s NASA-director character from Armageddon.
• Representative Martha Roby, Alabama. (The Republican senator from Alafuckingbama just unendorsed the Republican nominee. That is a thing that actually has happened in the actual world that we all live in.)
• Funky Joey Blisters, lead singer for Pittsburgh’s own The Pussy Grabbers. (“We’re not about violence, man. We’re a ska band.”)

(A NOTE: I apologize for seeming obsessed by this, but I’m obsessed by this. If you don’t like it, then go grab yourself in the pussy.

“Hey!”

Sorry, Funky Joey.)

There’s more coming, lots more. More stories about the grabbing, and the pussing, and all that, but what I’m talking about is more audio. There’s more audio.

Trump did The Apprentice from 2004-2015. (Last year. 2015 was last year, and he was a mere television clown, not the despoiler of the republic he’s become. 2016 ruins everything.) 185 episodes, and television takes absolutely forever to make, and 99% of that time the so-called talent just sits there bullshitting. You get your hair, makeup, and wardrobe done in the morning and then you just sit there. Maybe have some locker room banter with the fellows.

While they’re putting your wardrobe on, though, they also attach your microphone. The wires need to be hidden and out of the way, and there’s a battery pack: the whole megilla is attached to you, is the point I’m making. The mic doesn’t come off in between takes, and they’re always hot. They might not be recording, but the sound guy can still hear you loud and clear.

And the sound guy is always recording.

185 episodes of sitting around, bullshitting with Meatloaf and Dennis Rodman. With a hot mic.

There’s more coming, lots more.

• If a women says to you, “Please come here and grab me by the pussy,” then you may grab that woman by the pussy.
• Opposite Day.
• You’re more important than she is, and nobody’s going to believe her, anyway.
• If a woman is falling off a roof, or a bridge, and the only way to save her is to grab her by the pussy, then pussy-grabbing may be done.
• Similarly, if a woman is about to walk int traffic, and you are a dwarf who cannot reach her shoulders, then perhaps you may grab the woman’s pussy.
• I think there are a couple two-person yoga poses that require pussy-grabbing, but that really falls under the auspices of the first bullet point: that grabbifying of pudenda was planned out and consented to by both parties.
• Sometimes women start thinking they’re humans, worthy of respect; grabbing ’em real hard right on their puss straightens that women’s lib shit right out.
• You bought her furniture, and she still won’t fuck you even though you bought her furniture. Fuckin’ bitch.

They may have been brothers, I thought so at first but that was not true. The long-haired one said “my mother and father,” so they weren’t brothers; they looked alike is the reason for the assumption. Both them were fat and wore their shirts unbuttoned to their sternums; I could see the underflop of the long-haired one’s man-titty. Short-haired guy most likely had his boob sticking out, too, but they were at the table next to me and he was on my side, so it would have been obvious I was titty-staring. Long-hair was opposite me, and thus his titty was in my peripheral.

Long-hair was aggressively on his phone the entire time, and had calves the size of softballs: his ankles were oddly delicate and the massive spheres stood out over them, and over the white Crocs he was wearing. Shirt-hair had on flippity-flops, (also known as “Florida combat boots”). This may be the first time in recorded history that the guy wearing the flippity-flops had the best shoes.

I think they were from Palm Beach.

“She asked me about the benefit. This is her now, ‘how much are you getting?'”

“She said that?”

“It’s the season. The season is…Mar-A-Lago.”

“You don’t see what that is?”

“What?”

“What she’s saying is ‘Are you working or are you going. Going.”

“Oh. Is she?”

“Yes.”

“I was invited!”

“But that’s what she’s saying.”

“It’s networking.”

“But that’s what she was asking you.”

“You’re right.”

2016, it seems, will follow one to small diners, where you have brought a book and left your phone in the car, and bray allusions to the Devil right next to your eggs and bacon. Fuck you, 2016. Let me enjoy my breakfast.