WHEREAS no one has ever been treated more unfairly than President Trump, probably anywhere in the entire world or in the history of the world, or maybe even Mars or whatever;

WHEREAS the Constitution explicitly states that the President of the United States can post whatever he wants on Twitter, even if the memes are too spicy for Sleepy-Eyes Chuck Todd or Ice Cream Nancy or Schumer the Jew;

WHEREAS it’s so wrong, so unbelievably wrong what they did, and they know what they did;

WHEREAS the President should not be limited to 280 characters, and should be able to use italics, which are the letters that lean. Lot of people don’t use italics, but maybe I should start. Maybe that would be good for me;

WHEREAS the Facebook is pretty good, not so bad, the Twitter is the worst site on the internet and very nasty;

WHEREAS many people are saying that Joe Scarborough killed Carole Baskin’s huband;

WHEREAS the Twitter is not allowed to alter my tweets, which are so perfect and tremendous, and earn so many likes that are from real people, unlike Confused Joe Biden, who is up to his neck in bots. Bots. Terrible thing, the bots;

WHEREAS the Bonfire of the Vanities was a real thing. Not just a movie about me! It was in Italy. 1500, 1600, long time ago. Sometime back then. Guy went around burning all the paintings and whatever. Put ’em in a big pile, lit ’em up. Lot of people thought he was doing the right thing. Not many people know that, but a lot of people are talking about it;

WHEREAS did you write that down, Junior? Why would you write that down? Jesus Christ. However many children I have, you’re the dumbest;

WHEREAS are you crying? What the fuck? Get out. Get out of here. Send in my Jewish son;

WHEREAS what time is it? Lunch time? Let’s call it lunch time.

WHEREAS okay, so ordered. Bong bong bong.