Everything is Funny Until it Happens To Trump — Then It’s Genuinely Hilarious.
Oh Donnie, what are we going to do with you — well provided you don’t die before November whenever.
What if I said, before old ambitious Tommy Crooks went haywire and tried to assassinate a presidential candidate, and before said candidate was once president before, Tommy was just another random neighborhood kid, one of the more soft-spoken and understanding young adults, one might even say.
Before anyone gets excited, I’m not letting the extreme left or even your everyday rhetoric ram-rodding Democrats off the hook over a 20-year-old idiot who had one job and blew it. However, I see much of our beloved mainstream media and traffic tramps scurrying for an angle, anything. Or to be first, which they all prioritize over being correct these days. It goes unsaid and unpunished. This leaves the rest of us either uninformed or misinformed, and I’m not sure which is worse at this point, quite honestly.
It’s been said, most recently by Dave Chappelle that I can recall, even though I believe he was openly quoting someone else but don’t care enough to see who exactly — that everything is funny until it happens to you. I believe this is undeniably true, based on my personal experiences of the past, as well as my current everyday observations of others both near and far.
From your home state to mine. From The Trump Towers in New York to his criminal headquarters he calls Mar-a-Lago down in what we call the sunshine state, and it isn’t due to how bright its citizens are known for being. Back up to my home, crime-riddled, homeless-infested, fentanyl-filled, someone is getting shot tonight, city of Philadelphia. Brotherly love? Ha, hardly, check our murder stats then maybe rethink that one. As well as everywhere in between.
However, in the case of former sitting and also potentially future second-time United States President Donald Trump — this philosophy is in your face, just grabbed your pussy and took your lunch money all at once, true.
Where are all the “can’t you guys take a joke, stop being so sensitive” Republicans, now that their man has been left with a mangled right ear? I can’t hear you, speak into my good ear — see what I did there?
What's the matter, did someone get hit on the wrong side of their stupid orange head? Orange ya glad I didn’t say aren't ya?
I’m watching the dimwitted dufuses who identify as democrats offer thoughts and prayers for someone they’ve long ago deemed public enemy number one, publicly, quite often in fact. He’s been compared to everything from Hitler to Theodore Roosevelt, which I for one didn’t know was even in the realm of things that were politically possible. Roughly half of us are convinced he’s here to Make America Great Again and the real dull crayons of that bunch even wear hats that say so. The ones who still want to see Obama’s birth certificate, at Trump’s lead. Meanwhile, Obama is somewhere on an island bumpin' the late great DMX and his personal friend Shawn Carter’s decades-old banger “Money, Cash Hoes”, with his beautiful wife. Yolo.
He hasn’t seen his kids in a couple of days and honestly, he’s not mentioning it if she isn’t. Fuck them damn kids. Hopefully, they got jobs or something. He’s been worried about their curiosity in the phrase sneaky links lately and initially thought they were trying to play him when he asked if they wanted air conditioners for their rooms back home, and they both simultaneously said “Nope, only fans”. He’s written them off since, more or less. But like Michelle always reminds him, at least they aren’t Candace Owens fans.
The former first couple hears CNN spew off some wild shit, as the anchors try and hide their laughter, as they report what so many of us thought was what this country needed, and the smarter of us know needs to still happen, should any hope remain in this hotdog stand we’ve deemed home.
Still. Barack couldn’t believe his shockingly large ears.
“They Hit that old rat’s ear with the cap from the clap of a gat? Michelle, turn the damned TV off, I ain’t trying to HEAR that. I thought we came here to New Zealand for the year, so we didn’t have to deal with that. Welp, I’m feeling fat from that last frap, probably time your boy took a nap.”
But I digress, this isn’t about Obama or a portion of this nation’s citizens who were as blindly in love with him as the Bang Bang Maga Hat Gang is with this Russian Cuddling Traitor, Pussy Grabbing, Tax Evading conman. When it comes to talking his way out of, whatever it is he sees the need to, or just even kinda would like to, he truly is an artist. He is as sharp as a tac and will hurt the first jerk who so much as even accidentally or gently treads on him, while he’s trying to watch wrestling.
You know who looks incapable of wrestling, probably even watching it too if we’re keeping it 100 — and pretty much everything else involving anything semi-strenuous I can reasonably think of in a rational amount of time? Everyone who could even potentially, including those given the god awful long shot status, become President of this goofy ass gender-focused country that argues over the monotonous while it falls apart at the seams, just a tad more with every one of their screams. In like, November. Dare I say the date of their formal Inauguration — half the country would say it isn’t a real date and liberals invented it and the other would go full post-traumatic stress disorder, despite they’ve never been anywhere near The Capitol Building or even the eastern coast of the (allegedly) United States.
All I can think, as I watch half my Facebook friends change their profile picture to what looks like the most staged photo ever, as their profile pic. No, I'm not referring to the ones where a black person who isn’t Candace Owens, Charleston White, or rapper and likely murderer, Kodak Black, openly supports their Orange Deity, like he was the second coming of Tupac Shakur or whoever decided we’d all get PUA checks during Covid. Though, no rational person of any denomination without severe unresolved emotional issues and likely brain damage would openly support a man who has made their country the butt of the joke, time after time. I’m referring to the same man who suggested A combination of ingesting bleach and direct, close-up UV Ray exposure at lengths regularly, was most likely the solution to killing COVID once and for all, so he and his co-defendants could get back to taking off the top, from the very top of the political world, a height they often still couldn’t believe they ever made it to, in the first place.
Here’s the hypocrisy, that is also the hilarity of this entire hard-to-watch soap opera most of us haven’t been able to look away from for damn near the last decade— had it been Joe Biden who was shot (although that seems like complete overkill at this point, natural causes are traveling at the speed of bullets, in Biden’s world these days). However, regardless, the far and maybe even not far at all right-winged republicans, would still be laughing — probably even more so, had he perished from such an attack, mid bad speech. Biden would’ve been rambling on, something about replacing Columbus Day with Columbo Day, if I heard correctly anyway before I began to without a doubt doze off like Joe Biden does at random, regardless of his surroundings or day-to-day responsibilities, as the world’s most powerful political figure — at least of ones who don’t consider forcing 11-year-old girls to be deemed legally grown — grown as in “grown women” for their own disgusting, unthinkable, selfish means to an end — all disguised in religion. Rather than the insanity and unjust collection of practices and beliefs based on violence at a large scale, it truly is. Those who don’t go invading countries nearby, out of pure boredom and insecurities about how many inches their dick is (or isn’t) the majority of the day, on average.
75 Virgins you say? I doubt it but hey, regardless, write me from hell and tell me all about it. Let me know how that turned out for you. Give Bin Laden and Saddam Hussein my best, and by best I mean let their corpses rot sporadically in the sun until the poor citizens of their country they’ve never so much as considered helping in any way shape, or form, feast off the meat, as they should.
A lot of people aren’t going to like this next part but — I don’t write what I think people want to hear, I write what I want to write about, if you want to read it— Awesome, much appreciated. But no amount of adulation, on a small scale or a large one, would ever convince me to be that kind of writer. I’d rather die without another piece of my writing ever being read, by anyone ever again than cater to the common folk at large, through this craft I love more than I do most people I know. One I give far more of my time to, than said people. Without a single regret about it.
God, imagine the shame and ass-beating that criminal with a weird fascination of putting his name largely on the side of buildings across the Tri-State Area — the area we all lived in — we all agreed to comply — except for the one of us, whom we all knew wouldn’t do so much as listen to what either officer said in the first place.
However, as much as I may be disgusted by the thought of this reality show, definitely not because of the evil stage 5 clinger variety I dated in high school either, I don’t need some 62-year-old dive bar bartender to verify that the phone in question, is indeed Bossman’s upstairs.
Running Update About The Guy Who Isn’t Running Because He Isn’t Physically Fit Enough To Jog:
I really hoped Joe Biden would first, live until at least November, and didn’t end up going out like most rappers do these days, which is by quitting pe literally dying, before they ever truly start. But then along came Tommy “ I kinda grazed em” Crooks, tired from grinding in them Butler PA Trenches. A place that, before Saturday most people had never heard of, and probably would have lived out their entire lives without knowing it existed. Tommy couldn’t let Butler go out like that, he was determined to make them known for something, and he did exactly that. Butler is now home of an overly ambitious, now very dead twenty year old with intentions that were as good as his aim was bad.
Trump will live, to say some ignorant, yet predictable and no longer even shocking for him shit, another day. Likely, an entire full four years of them unless the next would be folk hero has better aim.
Or he ends up doing what many people his age tend to do, which is die of completely natural causes.
Are you listening still God, its us, America? Listen, can we just talk? I’ll talk, you can just listen. That’s kinda your thing, and our dynamic in general actually.
Tommy Crooks might be the only human to ever live to hear the true voice of God, be given good orderly direction--and still disappoint the guy. However, due to the fact the secret service has notably better aim than sloppy shooting Tommy and corpses don’t make great defendants , I guess we’ll never know for sure.
Thoughts and prayers to all the people that are going to have to hear about this bullshit endlessly until at least, November. Hang in there folks, the only way out is through.
And Big Macs and an extra large diet comes for that baboon 3ho look
