Month: September 2018 (Page 2 of 10)

She’s still there in all her unobtrusive glory. If you like what I do, throw a bum a dime.

“Thank you, wonderful, yes, great, all right. Quite a gathering, very nice. Nobody has press conferences like me. Nobody. Obama would stand there and lecture at you, but I’m a lot more fun. We’ve had the best few days in town, an unbelievable week, maybe the greatest United Nations whatever in history. Gave the speech so beautifully that all the delegates and diplomats gave me a standing ovation, just so wonderful. Okay, questions. You?”

“Mr. President, the Kavanugh confirmation continues tomorrow with a hearing into an accusation of sexual assault against nominee’s. Two other women have also made similarly disturbing claims. Do you think Judge Kavanaugh should withdraw his name?”

“Withdraw? That’s crazy. First of all, we’re talking about a high quality man. He’s tall, great hair, Yale. He’s who you want on the Supreme Court, and probably will go on to be one of our great legal minds. Writing opinions, making decisions. They’re gonna study this guy in law school in the future, honestly. Just a superior lawyer and judge and man.”

“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind, Mr. President.”

“Who knows? Maybe tomorrow whatsherface comes out and gives a real good sob story, wah wah I got raped, then: hey, I’m not made of stone. People don’t see my sensitivity because I never let them, because I’m a fighter, but trust me. Very sensitive. So maybe I’ll think he did it tomorrow. But if he did it, this is the past we’re talking about.”

“Excuse me?’

“35, 36, 37, 150 years ago. That’s a long time. Different back then. You can’t judge people by today’s standards. Look at FDR. Cripple! Now, we’d say that he couldn’t be president because he was in a wheelchair, but back then it was okay to be crippled. Times change. The Democrats, mostly Chuck Schumer, would push FDR over. That’s what they do! I’m trying to put a great man on the Supreme Court, and they’re pushing cripples over. Next question.”

“Mr. President, you’ve made some serious allegations about China over the past few days. Will you–”

“China is killing us. They’re putting tariffs on our steel, on our grapes, you would not believe all the stuff they put tariffs on, and they’re killing us. Trust me, and most people don’t understand tariffs like I do, because they’re almost a tax. Not quite. Close. Very close. And they’re killing us. 35%, 45%, 125%. One hundred and twenty-five percent. And they get away with it, or at least they used to. ”

“125% tariff?”

“Obama didn’t have the relationship with She Chingding that I do. No matter what time it is there, he picks up. ‘Mr. Tlump! Mr. Tlump!’ That’s how he says it. You know how they talk. ‘Mr. Tlump, i rove you and your giant blain.’ He says that. And then the next call he makes is to raise the tariffs. Where’s Jim Acosta?”

“Here, sir.”

“You are fake news.”

“I was expecting that. Sir, could you call on a female reporter, please?”

“Not an uggo. I’m calling on at least a seven.”

“Jesus.”

“Katy Tur?”

“Mr. President, there are now three women accusing Judge Kavanaugh of sexual misconduct. Are you saying that all three of those women are liars? Is there anything that could be said at this point tomorrow that could cause you to withdraw the nomination? Anything at all?”

“Listen, this has happened to me four, five times. These women are con artists and they come out of the woodwork for money. This is in my case. Maybe Kavanaugh’s a rapist, but I don’t think so. Yale! But all the women making up little stories about me were liars. One got her mortgage paid, the other got something. I’ve been famous a long time and people see me, they say ‘I’m gonna make some money. I’m gonna say this and that.’ They come at you and try to destroy great men. Great men. Jim Acosta, where are you?”

“Where I was two minutes ago, sir.”

“You are still fake news.”

“Sure. How about you call on a foreign reporter?”

“I was going to do that, anyway. My idea, probably for a very long time, has been to call on a foreign reporter. You. Where are you from?”

“Jamaica, Mr. President.”

“I’m not making weed legal, Mr. Rasta. Next question. Where’s the failing New York Times?”

“Here, Mr. President.”

“You are failing.”

“We’re not.”

“That’s because of me.”

“What?”

“The Times is most likely going to endorse me in 2020, and the networks, too. I am making them all so much money that the executives call me up, ‘Mr. President, thank you, keep it up with the social media.’ They love the social media because I go bing bang bong and there’s their ratings. I get the best ratings for these people, the most sales they’ve ever seen, they’re raising ad rates all over to probably the highest they’ve ever been, but I get treated very, very badly. 93% of all the stories are negative even though black unemployment is at an all-time low. Asian unemployment, too. They’ve all got their own restaurants and dojos now, but I don’t get the credit.”

“Can I ask you about Rod Rosenstein and his remarks about the 25th Amendment?”

“They’re trying everything to get me out! 25th, 26th, all the amendments. But Rod said that he didn’t say what the lying, failing New York Times reported, and I believed him. All fake news. I’m thinking about arresting the entire paper. Next question.”

“Mr. President–”

“Tell Jim Acosta he’s fake news.”

“–do you…I’m not going to do that.”

“Thousand bucks. Thousand bucks to walk up to Acosta and tell him he’s fake news.”

“No, thank you.”

“Thousand bucks and I’ll make you an ambassador.”

“Sir, my question was about NAFTA.”

“No more. We’re not calling it NAFTA anymore. Not a great name. The Rolling Stones. That’s a great name. Worked for me on several occasions at my properties. Mick still puts on a show. Does quite well with the ladies. Not like me, but well enough. I play their music at my rallies and everyone goes nuts. Rock and roll, great stuff. But NAFTA? Where’s the glamour? No more NAFTA.”

“So…are you canceling the deal or renaming it?”

“Sure, maybe. Hey, let’s go back to the Jamaican.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. My question is–”

“Nah, just kidding. But I will pick a black. You, the black right there.”

“My name is April Ryan, Mr. President.”

“Good for you. Good name. Not like most of you. Laqueesha, DaBrickashaw. April is a solid name.”

“Mr, President, would you like to discuss the entire general assembly laughing at you during your speech yesterday?”

“That’s fake news. What happened was that everyone was laughing with me because, and many people have said this, I’m like a real funny guy. I got one-liners and jokes and all that. Carrottop, the great comedian Carrottop, he comes out with the props and the devices, he packs the place every night, he was on my incredibly successful show, The Apprentice, and he would always say to me, ‘Mr. Trump, you could do what I do, but I couldn’t do what you do.’ Which is a real compliment. Real name’s Scott. Mother didn’t name him Carrottop.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Okay, this went really, really well. Sure, great, okay, you’re welcome.”

“Tell me more about Mickey.”

“He’d play teenaged girls like bongos most nights. Although to his credit, he would also do that to older women, and men, and everyone. He’s got a thing.”

“Drums.”

“Yes.”

“Amazing. What else do you know about the Grateful Dead that would retroactively ruin their reputations?”

“There was a lot of white slavery.”

“I think calling it ‘white slavery’ is kinda racist nowadays.”

“Hey, man: it’s an interview. I’m gonna say some racist stuff. My fans demand it.”

“Do they?”

“I’m huge with the passive bigot market.”

“Great. More about the slavery.”

“White slavery.”

“Whatever.”

“They had a whole operation in the 70’s. I think Rakow was in charge. They’d sell runaways to sheikhs, stuff like that.”

“Fascinating.”

“Are we gonna talk about me soon?”

“Very soon. Now let’s discuss Bob Weir.”

HEY!

“Ah, shit.”

“Fuck.”

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“I had to see whether he was prettier than me. I had to see with my own eyes.”

Why are you making that face?

“Oh, fuck off. You’re the one who takes the screenshots.”

Listen, man, I try to keep you out of danger–

“You sic dinosaurs on me all the time.”

–but I will remove my hands from around if you keep talking to Ronan Farrow. You will be like Job.

“I no longer fear you.”

You don’t? Watch this. Hey, Ronan!

“Yes?”

Why are you making that face?

“I’m not making any face.”

I know. You’re just an angel of a man.

“Well, thank you, but it’s about the work.”

Keep being modest while looking like that and I’m gonna cum. Just a warning.

“That happens a lot. Most people don’t give me the heads-up. Appreciate it.”

Sure. Rosebud?

“Don’t call me that.”

You snuck around my back. You said you were dropping the Grateful Dead story.

“I was, I was. But you remember that you sent some sort of vampire emu at me?”

It was a draculostrich, but go on.

“Whatever it was called. Well, it killed me. Ripped my chest open with one its claws. Bled out right there.”

How terrible.

“And then I am rescued from death. Not through divine intercession, but by a man named Benjy Eisen. He was driving a racecar.”

Yeah, that’s how death works around here. Did he shake you down?

“He’s my manager now.”

Sounds like Benjy.

“Anyway, I figured that you couldn’t kill me, so why listen to you? I’m gonna do the story and you can’t stop me.”

I probably can’t. But he can.

“Who?”

HELLO, SAMMY DAVIS JUNIOR, JUNIOR.

“Yaah!”

I NEED TO BORROW YOUR NOSE.

“This is not how a Yalie is supposed to be treated!”

AND YOUR SKIN. I NEED YOUR SKIN, TOO.