Trump’s MLK Breakfast Opening Remarks, Verbatim, Not Doctored by me, Pinkie Swear.

Well this is Black History Month, so this is our little breakfast, our little get-together. Bannon said we didn’t have to do anything, but I said no, no, the Black people love me so let’s do a breakfast. I’m having breakfast anyway, I can have it with the Blacks, okay? It’s their history month, Okay, they got it fair and square, Okay. Let them take it, it’s the shortest month I think. I’m mentioning them, I’m mentioning the Blacks, okay?  On Holocaust remembrance I left out the Jews and they all had a little Jew fit, so Black history month, Black history, Black, Black, Black History, Okay? Okay, Kellyanne?  Let’s have breakfast.

Just a few notes. During this month, we honor the tremendous history of African-Americans, which really is a tremendous history, tremendous, tremendous, it’s a very… tremendous history, throughout our country. Throughout the world, if you really think about it, right? And there are African-Americans in space now, right? I saw a picture of a black astronaut, can you believe it? How far they’ve gone? So also in space. And their story is one of unimaginable sacrifice, hard work, and faith in America, a lot of it against their will, so it counts more, okay?  I’ve gotten a real glimpse—during the campaign, I’d go around with Ben Carson, a Black man I know,  to a lot of different places I wasn’t so familiar with, Black places Ben has access to as a Black man where I would not be able to go without him because Ben is Black. The inner city. Ben as guide. They’re incredible people. The African-American… community. Incredible. And I want to thank my African American Ben Carson,  who’s gonna be heading up HUD. That’s a big job. Housing and Urban Development, two things. Two… whole… different… things. You need an urban, urban man for that, very urban and Ben is very urban. The  most urban man. So that’s why I appointed a  man I called a child molester during the campaign, because whatever his past, he is very… he is so urban. Look at him. No one would believe I am so close to such an urban American and I am sitting next to him. The dishonest media will not report it, but I am so comfortable… sitting next to him.  Right, Ben? Ben? When I say ‘Right, Ben?’ you open your damn eyes and say ‘yes, Mr. President’.  A little sleepy, but that’s okay, it’s HUD, it’s like Postmaster General, who cares? HUD’s gonna be like a big bedroom for Ben. Ben… Carson. Such a great… Black guy.

Last month, we celebrated the life of Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., whose incredible example is unique in American history, a guy who did a lot of big, some of the biggest things. You read all about Dr. Martin Luther King a week ago when somebody said I took the statue out of my office. It turned out that that was fake news. Fake news, but big news, he’d been out of the news for so long and now really Dr. Martin Luther King is getting some of the biggest headlines of his career because of this thing about the bust. With me you get big headlines, I am a ratings magnet, the biggest, so really a good deal for King. But he was a very great guy. So important. The statue is cherished, it’s one of the favorite things I own in the… round room. The President’s famous round room—and we have some good ones. We have Lincoln, and we have Jefferson, and we have Dr. Martin Luther King, who did you know was not even a President? But we have him with the Presidents. But they said the bust of Martin Luther King, was taken out of the office. And it was never even touched. So I think it was a disgrace, what they said about me. So on Martin Luther King day we remember that I did not move a statue of him and the dishonest media lied about it. but that’s the way the press is. Very unfortunate.

I am very proud now that we have a whole museum for Blacks on the National Mall where people can learn about Reverend King, so many other things. Frederick Douglass is an example of the name of a Black man that I’ve heard. He’s done an amazing job and is being recognized more and more, I noticed. Really an up and comer. Watch out, Sleepy Ben! This Douglass guy is hot!… Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks…George Washington Carter, who was so famous for his peanuts and the peanut butter cup… named for two Presidents, by the way… and millions, millions more black Americans who made America what it is today. So many Blacks! Millions! It’s a big museum. Big impact. So important. Blacks.

I’m proud to honor this heritage and will be honoring it more and more. I am going to honor the Blacks so often your head will spin, you’ll be sick of me honoring the Blacks. The folks at this table in almost all cases are Black, at least half,  and have been great friends and supporters. Omarosa and Don King and Ben and other people I know who are Black. There’s like a dozen of them here, and I know them. And Paris Dennard! Another Black! Look at him eating my eggs! He loves eggs! What a big appetite! Slow down on my eggs, Paris! Leave some for the rest of us! And Paris has done an amazing job in a very hostile CNN community. He’s all by himself. He is the first… he is the only Black commentator on CNN, can you believe that? So racist! You’ll have seven  white people, and Paris. And I’ll take Paris over the seven. But I don’t watch CNN, so I don’t get to see you as much as I used to. I don’t like watching fake news. I don’t watch you on CNN but I love what you are doing there. So, so brave. To be their only Black Man. But Fox has treated me very nice. Wherever Fox is, thank you. So on Black History month we celebrate Fox. Hey, Fox! You should get Paris! He loves me! Or that Douglass guy! Boy, he is hot right now. Do a show with me and Douglass, your ratings would go so big! I had the biggest ratings for any television show in the history of television with ‘The Apprentice’. Now with Schwarzenegger… tanking. So sad. His name is German for African-American, actually. Two African-Americans. Schwarza… Negger. And so during Black History Month we celebrate Arnold Schwarzenegger and his terrible… terrible ratings.

We’re gonna need better schools and we need them soon. We need more jobs, we need better wages, a lot better wages. Blacks have nothing. They have nothing. Everything Black is on fire or getting shot. Can you believe it? So unfair. We’re gonna work very hard on the inner city because that is where the Black people are. Ben is gonna be doing that, big league.  He’s Black. That’s why I appointed him, I said get me the best Black guy for the inner city. The best, the best, get me Ben Carson, that is the name of a Black guy I know. He ran for President! The same time as me! How big is that? A black guy? Running with me? That’s huge. Huge for a Black guy. That’s the Black guy for the inner city thing. We need safer communities and we’re going to do that with law enforcement. We’re gonna make it safe. We’re gonna make it much better than it is right now. Right now it’s terrible, and I saw you talking about it the other night, Paris, on something else that was really—you did a fantastic job the other night on a very unrelated show, they were talking about… I think it was a cooking show and you said ‘What Black people want most of all is  for law enforcement to crack down on us hard! If the police can’t get the job done, send in the Feds!’ Amazing. Amazing Paris. That guy can put away the eggs. The appetite on you people.

I’m ready to do my part, and I will say this: We’re gonna work together. This is a great group, this is a group that’s been so special to me, the Blacks. You really helped me a lot. If you remember I wasn’t going to do well with the African-American community, and after they heard me speaking and talking about the inner city and lots of other things, we ended up getting—and I won’t go into details—but we ended up getting all the Black votes. I am the first candidate to win every single Black vote. And I would have won more Black votes if not for the millions of not Black people illegally casting votes as Blacks against me for Hillary, who should not have been allowed to run.  She had to cancel her fireworks, did you know that? She was all set to do fireworks. She had to cancel… And now we’re gonna… take that to… new levels.

I want to thank my television star over here—Omarosa, she’s mine, I made her, she was no one but now she’s huge because of me. She’s a Black woman that didn’t exist that I have known personally for a while and made famous. People say she is a horrible, horrible person, but they don’t understand that was just the character she was playing, it’s reality TV, it’s like wrestling. I have no idea what she’s like in real life. Never thought about it even once. Here’s what I do know about Omarosa. She’s Black. A lot of people are saying that she’s hooking up with Frederick Douglass. I’m not going to get into it, but a reliable person has told me they are going to replace the very over rated and failing Beyonce and Jay Z Derulo as America’s next top Black Power Couple.  So I want to thank everybody for being here, especially the blacks who the dishonest media said wouldn’t even come to this breakfast but I think all the empty steam trays proves you did. No, no, please, enjoy!

Am I done, Kellyanne? Was that enough? Okay? Okay, I’m done. Get out.


My Political Satire at Chelsea Now

Hello, all. As you may or may not know (that covers everything, right?) I am the political satirist for New York newspaper, Chelsea Now. A charming anachronism, the print on real paper and are available GRATIS in ‘The Big Apple’, which means I am very, very famous. Luckily for today’s youth, they also maintain a ‘website’, so that may be enjoyed ‘virtually’ by way of any of the more popular modular computer machine devices regularly used by ‘hipsters’ and those in the ‘know’.

The plan was I would write for them through the election, but somehow I have slipped into an alternate timeline where a possessed human shaped orange leather sack of snake venom, KFC grease and weasel shit is President and I still have my job.

If you follow think ‘hot link’ below, you will find a ‘search page’ that will allow you to access all my columns.

Rejected Yankee Candle Scents

By The Burbank Family



After The Flood

Deep Regret

Public Pool

Traditional New England Old Folks Home

Liver N’ Onions

Self Loathing

Indian Summer Micro Aggression

Praline Existential Crisis

Knights Inn Carpeting

Long Night Of The Soul

Grampaw’s Aftershave, Cigarettes N’ Rotgut

Soaked Dog’s Guilt

Lilac (No Homo)

Dollar Store Halloween Candy

Deep Woods Balsam N’ Ignorance

Bavarian Intolerance

Cinnamon Pumpkin Renamed Crap, Sixth Iteration

Fresh Cut Wrists

That One Time In Seventh Grade You Liked A Girl And You Gave Her A Note And She Gave It Back With The Words ‘Why Did You Give Me This?’ Written On The Other Side So You Turned It Over And Discovered You Had Somehow Accidentally Given Her An Absence Excuse Note From Your Mom

Seasonal Affective Disorder

Yellow Snow

Lilac (Full Homo)

Best Days Behind You

Fresh Roasted Almonds You’re Allergic To

Store Bought Christmas Cookies Because Your Children Are Not Worth The Effort

Some Damn Pumpkin Spice Shit

Toxic Masculinity

Literally Toxic Masculinity

Day After Thanksgiving Hangover N’ Lingering Shame

What’s In This Old Tupperware?

New Year’s Eve Alone

Exotic Rain Bloom That Smells Like Rotting Meat

Valentine’s Romance Totally In Your Head

Beach Bonfire Mishap

Something In The Wall

Vichy French Vanilla

Fisherman’s Missing Halibut

Birthday Cake At A Party You Didn’t Get Invited To

Blooming Jasmine Ironically At A Crime Scene

Honeysuckle Ironically At A Crime Scene

Christmas Memories Of Not Getting What You Wanted

Tarps N’ Duct Tape At A Crime Scene

Hillbilly Dread

Clean Cotton Shroud

Mexico On The Lam

Coconut Papaya Blackout

Tropical Hernia

Uncle Clem

Artisan Barista Third Degree Burn Ointment

Repressed Memories

Blueberry Crumble Trigger Warning

Tree Shaped Car Freshner

Olde Thyme Whupping

Leave The Lid On

The Duck Joke Variations

A duck walk into a pharmacy, says give me some chapstick and put it on my bill.


A waterbird walks into an apothecary, says give me some moisturizing balm and put it where my lips would be if I had lips


An avian wetland dweller waddles into a convenience store, asks a clerk if they have anything behind the counter that might soothe and also protect the edges of his beak.


There is a bird in a store. It is saying it’s bill hurts. Apparently it can speak. What the hell am I supposed to do?


There is a joke about a duck in need of over the counter medication. It relies on similes. The joke, not the duck. It is a very, very funny joke, but also somehow sad and plaintive.


There is a joke with a bird in it that is hilarious yet also tragic. Some aspect of the humor revolves around plantains.


There is a Koan (Ko-Wan) involving a creature with uncomfortable lips that has no lips. There are no plantains in this Koan and while a little odd, it is meant for contemplation, not amusement.


If the duck means ‘bill’ in the sense of beak, what gives him the right to demand a product for free? If the duck means ‘bill’ in the sense of payment, what does he want chapstick for? Is he a collector? A fetsihest?  Is he getting the chapstick for someone else, someone who presumably has lips? What if they don’t have lips? Where will they put the chapstick? Why am I crying? Because I am allergic to plantains.


In restaurants, a bill is sometimes referred to as a ‘guest check’, which is absurd. If someone is your guest, why are you charging them? A bill is also sometimes referred to as a beak, but only if there are birds in your restaurant. Or some sort of genetic Chimera.


The Duck Billed Platypus is not a genetic chimera, although one might be forgiven for thinking it was. It is a Monotreme, one of only four. Monotremes are mammals, but they lay eggs. They do not speak or use drugstores. Scientists do not know what the fuck is up with them.


A duck walks into a drugstore. As soon as it begins to speak it is set upon by clandestine agents of the government who take it away, question it for days and eventually dissect its brain.


A duck walks into a library and says give me some chapstick, and put it on my bill. I tell him this is a library. He repeats the phrase, but whispers.


There is no duck. You are the duck. There is no drugstrore. Your mind is the drugstore.There is chapstick. Everybody knows what chapstick is.


Former olympic skier Suzy Chaffee walks into an endorsement contract. Reading it she thinks, if I do this, I will make a great deal of money. But there is the possibility I will never be remembered for anything but a stupid nickname. I won championships. I was captain of an Olympic team, I worked tirelessly to pass title IX legislation. I do not want to be a punchline. If only I could see the future, as the duck billed platypus is said to be able to do.


A duck would eat and enjoy a plantain. I am certain of it. A Platypus? Your guess is as good as mine. Monotremes are mysterious fuckers.


‘The Duck Variations’ walks into a store. It cannot ask for anything. It cannot pay for anything. It is a one-act play written in 1972 by a young David Mamet. That’s funny right? This concept? Maybe. The play is funny. But I didn’t write it.


The title of ‘The Duck Variations’ is a reference to ‘The Goldberg Variations’ by one of the Bachs or Mozart or some classical guy. I think Mamet would like you to believe that in some ways ‘The Duck Variations’ is influenced by, or maybe even an homage to ‘The Goldberg Variations’, but you know what? I doubt that. I think it’s a nod that Mamet hoped you might  think was something more. A lazy act by a talented writer. That’s what this piece  is. The title implies a relationship to a play when it’s really just a nod, a sadder nod.  Most highbrow folk know what ‘The Goldberg Variations’ are and almost nobody remembers ‘The Duck Variations’, A funny, but insignificant play, compared to the author’s later body of work.. My nod is more than sad. It is plantain.


This is not the first thing I have written that plays off ‘The Duck Variations’ and ‘The Goldberg Variations’ to create a desired effect. If that’s not plantain, I don’t know what the hell is.


Plantain sounds like plaintive. That’s not a joke. I don’t mean I’m serious, I mean literally. It’s not just that it’s not funny to say the wrong word over and over and pretend you have confused the meaning. It’s not structurally a joke at all.


‘Plantain’. HAH!


A Plantain walks into a duck and says ‘Hey, you got Chapstick in my Monotreme’. The duck screams ‘A talking plantain!’. The duck and the plantain are descended upon by clandestine government agents and soon have their brains dissected. Life is a miasma of suffering.


A duck walks into a store of any kind. That’s funny, but not funny ‘hah-hah’. What is it doing there?


A duck walks into anywhere and says something. That seems in the abstract like it might be funny, but if it happened, you would be scared. You would be gld when the clandestine government agents arrived.

Suzy Chaffe. Her lips. A CVS. An entire aisle of Plantains. Everyone who works there is ducks, but since ducks can’t talk, they are shitty CVS employees. All the customers are frustrated.


Life is a miasma of poor customer service and brain dissection.








You didn’t duck, most likely because you thought I was going to say ‘goose’. You imagined we were playing a game, and now you are injured, perhaps severely by some flying something that would not have struck you in the head had you obeyed instead of misunderstood my command.


Perhaps the flying something was a hurled chapstick. Or a duck. That would be funny.


Life is a miasma of ducks.


Put it on my bill.


Stump Speech: The Convention Recap Column

Hey, Gang;  As regular readers know, I am the satirical political columnist for Chelsea Now, a fine New York City newspaper. This certainly means I am, as the kids say, ‘legit’, which is exciting for all of us, I’m sure you agree.


Follow the link below, why don’t you, and be transported to my latest column, a recap and analysis of the conventions, both ‘R’ and ‘D’. Lord knows it’s better than watching them, something I can tell you from personal experience.


Stump Speech: A Convention Comparison

What I Know About Pokemon

Boy oh boy, Pokemon sure is a big thing again, what with this Pokemon Go Phone App game. Everyone sure is playing it, and if they aren’t playing it, they’re on facebook talking about how much they hate everyone who’s playing it, which is kind of just a different way of playing it, so everyone is having fun! I’m not playing it, ‘cause I don’t have a phone! Because I hate the idea of other humans being able to call me with the expectation that I will talk to a small machine and pretend it’s them! But to each their own, and having fun is great, and it sure looks like all the people playing Pokemon Go are having a lot of fun. Except for those guys that found the dead body instead of the Pokemon. Or the guy who caused that major highway accident because he was having so much fun playing Pokemon go he forgot he was also driving a car! Mostly though, Pokemon Go! (does it have an exclamation point? If it doesn’t it should. I’m going to type it that way for the rest of this article.) seems like a blast, and with the way the world has been this last week, no wonder people want to totally lose themselves in a world where they wander around catching suidgy little monsters. I bet right now there’s a major protest of some kind disintegrating because everyone is playing Pokemon GO! And someone is failing to commit a hate crime ‘cause they just saw a squidgy little monster on their phone and it distracted them from doing their hate crime! Thanks Japan! Japan to the rescue!


Here’s what I know about Pokemon: Not much!


‘Pokemon’ means ‘pocket monster’, which sounds a little bit dirty. The most famousest Pokemon is named Pikachu (Peek-at-you) which also seems dirty. There is a balloon of him in the Macy’s Thanksgiving day parade that seems to be either urinating on the crowd below or attempting to sexually dominate it. That’s how it looks! Maybe it’s me!


Other Pokemon have names like Bulbasaur (Bulb-is-sore) which also seems dirty and Squirtle (Squirtle) which seems dirty and nasty. Users capture Pokemon with their Pokeballs (possibly a medical condition?)


Pokemon is a card game and a video game and a cartoon and some sort of mind control platform, possibly Japanese in origin, but more likely extraterrestrial. Early versions fattened you up by making you passive, but Pokemon GO!!! Aims to make you walk and walk and walk, so apparently the Aliens have plenty of us to eat and now desire slave labor.


In all versions of Pokemon, users are instructed that they ‘gotta catch ‘em all’, something you will never do, because they evolve into ever more squidgy, morally questionable iterations, and the Aliens keep making new ones.


Pokemon GO!!!! Is apparently appealing to everyone. Just look out your window! Kids with cellphones playing GO POKEMON! Infants crawling on bloody knees with their cellphones catching Pokemons! Geriatric ancients tumbling over their walkers because they can’t use them and their cellphones at the same time, but they have their Pokeballs out and they are catching Pokemons while the play GO POKEMON GO, GO, GO!!! Dead people rising from the grave with their cellphones because you do not get to enjoy the sweet release of the true death until you have CAUGHT THEM ALL!!!


Apparently catching a Pokemon in your Pokeball releases a whole lot of endorphins. And that definitely seems dirty.



1.) Arrive early. You want a good seat, and you never know. This could be the year they start shooting them off before sunset.

2.) Wait. This early stage waiting is an excellent time to start working toward being abusively drunk, although a seasoned fireworks pro begins this around noon in the privacy of their own backyard, or behind a neighborhood dumpster. Most public fireworks viewing spaces have a ‘no alcohol’ policy, but it shouldn’t be taken seriously. Do you think the founding fathers were sober for even an instant during the revolution? Let me tell you – small arms fire, Dysentery, Gangrene, starvation and all male companionship go down a lot easier with a buzz on.

3.) If you brought your kids with you, now’s the time to yell at them. You want to do this while it’s still light enough so that other families know you have your offspring under control. That way once it’s dark you can let them run wild and no one will guess they’re yours. If you don’t have kids, yell at somebody else’s. It’s a great way to break the ice with their parents who may well have better snacks than you.

4.) Speculate loudly about when the hell they’re gonna get this show on the road.

5.) Tell your kids it has to be good and dark for a pretty long time before they can start the fireworks. When they ask why that would be, see how many reasons you can come up with that make any sense at all.

6.) Wait. Silently question why you come so early every year as thousands of unsupervised teenagers crowd in, obscuring your view.

7.) Spend some time thinking about what the impact on Gay culture in America would have been if halfway through the filming of “The Wizard of Oz”, Judy Garland suffered a stroke and the only one who could take on her role and complete the filming was you. (not everyone does this step, but ask around. I think you’ll be surprised)

8.) Listen as the bovine herd around you wonders if the obviously cheap, privately owned fireworks being shot off by neighbors might be the start of the show, and if so why is this town always so damn stingy with it’s tax dollars. Chuckle knowingly while privately worrying if this actually might be the case this year, even though it never has been before, even once.

9.) When the privately owned fireworks end, see if you can be the first one to loudly joke that it’s now time to go home.

10.) Wait. To amuse your family, play waiting for fireworks bingo. How many different whining, complaining, crying children can you count? How many drunken fathers, hollowly threatening to take everyone home right now? Use your flashlight to pick out silently seething Mothers and Dates.

11.) The show begins. Everyone will want to know your expert opinion on each firework, so make sure you use your ‘outdoor voice’ when you tell them.

12.) Wonder about Aerial Bombs, those deafeningly loud, big white flashes. What’s the point, beyond reminding you that these lovely flashes of light are supposed to suggest wartime lethal bombardment? Does anyone actually like them? Does the Mayor own stock? Are they really cheap? Do you get them free when you order a certain amount of ordinance?

13.) Worry that the small collection of fireworks that just went off together might be a particularly lame grand finale. Recall wondering this every year of your whole life, even though it’s always quite clear when the grand finale takes place. But what if this time it really is a particularly lame grand finale? Allow yourself to experience crushing disappointment coupled with the kind of depression that will put your head in the oven in the instant before the show starts up again.

14.) This small collection of fireworks going off at the same time is a little bigger than the last one. Maybe this is the grand finale. Wouldn’t that be lame? What the hell is wrong with this town? It’s not like they spend the taxes on the school system. Think longingly of your oven again, and it’s soothing, open mouth.

15.) Stare in slack jawed wonder at what is unmistakably, obviously, the grand finale. So big! Pretty light go boom! Thank God for the inventive spirit of the ancient Chinese and this great, wonderful country of ours, its freedoms, the sacrifices of its brave sons and daughters! Then tell everyone around you last year was better.

16) Bitch about the crowds, the traffic and the failure of fat, complacent local cops to confiscate illegal fireworks from dangerous unsupervised teens. Rage bitterly against the triple overtime extorted from the town budget just so the local boys in blue can make vague, non committal hand gestures at the slow motion, Demolition Derby that just hours ago was a semi civilized parking facility.

17.) Tell your family that if this is how they want to spend the 4th next year they can damn well do it without you.

18) in 365 days, repeat these steps with as few variations as possible.

All My Political Coulmns for Cheslea Now, Plus Some Other Stuff

Hey, folks; I’ve been covering the election for a small Greenwhich Village Newspaper, Chelsea Now. Follow this link to all five columns, plus a film review and some seasonal comedy.

My next column is due out on Thursday, so now is a great time to catch up on my stuff. Unless you don’t like my stuff, in which case, now is no worse a time than any to catch up on it.

All my stuff at Chelsea Now



What if Donald Trump Ran Against Donald Trump?

Okay, a lot of polls have come out lately that are really big for me. It’s true. It’s true. The polls coming out have me beating Hillary. But let me tell you something. Polls? Polls? Do you know what polls are? Do you know who responds to polls? Losers. They’re losers folks! They are! Believe me! They have land lines! That’s what you get those calls on, no one calls you on your cell and says “Who you gonna vote for?” It’s true. Polls are for hillbillies with land lines in their trailers.


And my supporters, they’re passionate, they’re very passionate people, they’re white, they’re many of them dirt poor, they’re ignorant, they’re white, they’re very, very stupid people, folks. So that’s the snapshot you get with a poll. Believe me. Little poor withe losers with debt coming out of their wherever just as dumb as a hammer telling some guy on the phone they’re gonna vote for me on their LAND LINE! Who even has those? Who still has those, do you people have those? Of course you do! That’s why you’re voting for me! I love my supporters, I do, I love them very, very much, because they can’t see how much they disgust me even when I make it obvious. Believe me. I make it very, very obvious. I’m the best at being obvious about people that disgust me. Believe me.


Chris Cjristie’s different. He knows he disgusts me. He has to, he has to! Look at him! Look at the fat, Jersey mug on that guy. I couldn’t look in a mirror if that was my face. I couldn’t. I’d hire the best white supremacist barber to shave me so I wouldn’t have to see my face if it was his. But Chris is going to vote for me! He went out and bought a land line so he could answer polls! I crushed him, I yumiliated him! He can’t get to the head of the line to kiss my ass fast enough! It’s like my ass is a donut! These are the people who vote for me! Sub normal white chumps with land lines and people like Chris who know better but when they see a donut like me, they have no control! Do you think that’s more than half the voters in the united states? I don’t, and I’m counting on it! Hey! I like gambling! I never thought I’d get this far! If I’m honest, I don’t even want to be President! I’d make a great host of being president. The ratings would go through the roof! But President? You people are so stupid! You have the best stupid.


My own kids couldn’t figure out how to vote in a primary! And they are so much better than you! Look at this crowd! Look at these beautiful people! My people are the best people, believe me, but how many of them do you think will be able to figure out how to register before the general election? How many could find the place you vote at? You have to be at the right place, I just found that out, you can’t just go where someone else is voting! It’s rigged! It is a rigged system. How many of them do you think could fill out an oval? I might not be able to! If I’m honest. Someone will show me, but on my own? I don’t even push the buttons on the elevator at Trump Tower! I don’t know how, I don’t do stuff like that, pushing buttons! I own the best, the very best white supremacist button pusher in New York, believe me. But I wouldn’t know what button he pushed even after I got out on the wrong floor! I’m very rich! If I’m honest I assume I know how to do things I don’t know how to do. Because I’ve always been very, very rich, folks. I am richer than all of you. Much richer. I have no idea how rich I am. I don’t know. I don’t know how you math that. When you negotiate you always tell people you’re the richest one there. No one knows who is. It’s too hard. So it’s possible my tax returns would say I’m not worth the amounts I make up based on how I feel about myself, which is pretty great. Why not? Why not? Believe me. So you are never going to see my tax returns. I’m going to release them. I am. I have no problem releasing my text returns after the election. I’m not going to release them, which I will release them at some point. I never said I would release them. Why would I say that? Can you believe the press? It’s disgusting. Oh boy. It is. I wanna see Wolf Blitzer’s tax return. It would be a short read. Because he’s not rich. No one cares about my tax returns, they’re long, my supporters don’t want something long, they are not strong readers.



I’m hard too look at, right? Come on, come on, a little. I do very good with the women. I do. Tens. The women love me. But not for what I look like. Come on! I’m a, what do you call it, a clinical narcissist, not a fuckin’ idiot. Right? I mean, I’m not as fat as Christie. I don’t have a disgusting woman body like Carly. I’m not a black guy like Carson or that, who was it, who was that little back guy that for a while was running? From Louisiana? Little guy. Skinny. But after that, I was the ugliest out of seventeen. It’s true! What color is my hair? Who knows? Sometimes it’s white, sometimes it’s yellow, sometimes it’s Ronald Macdonald color! It’s not even hair, it’s plastic strings! The very best white supremacist fake hair for baldies guy in Manhattan punched them into my head! It’s true! He had a gun! Like at the carnival games, so they can hang up all the made in china counterfeit Mario Brother’s plushies on the wall, they got a gun, pow, pow, it puts a hook right in their plush head! He had a gun just like that to put string in my head. You know, my head? With the white circles around my mouth and eyes, and everything else is pumpkin spice? Like I’m going to a minstrel show but I’m so stupid I don’t know what color black is, and then I go out in public looking like that? Believe me! Oh boy, folks! And I would do that! Be in a minstrel show! I would! I would! Because I do not like people who aren’t white, okay? Okay. They’re rapists. Okay.


Okay, lastly, I don’t bring this up because I don’t know enough about it to really to discuss it. I don’t, so I won’t bring it up, it’s out of bounds. But I will say, there are people who continue to bring it up because while I don’t know enough about it to say, those people are one hundred percent convinced that I have a micropenis. They say that Donald Trump has a tiny penis, something like a medium sized boiled shrimp. I don’t bring that up, because I don’t think it’s fair, and I only mention because I want to be clear that the people who are saying my penis is medically small, I can’t agree or disagree with those people, because I have not looked into my penis. I will. I will be looking into that. I have the very best white supremacist penis lookers on that right now and I will be making a statement one way or the other. So I’m not going to comment, which I don’t think I ever said I was going to comment. I don’t think that sounds like my voice. I just don’t. You do? Okay. Okay. I don’t hear that as my voice. It’s not my voice. Okay.



Stump Speech: Coal Mine Canary Perched on NY Primary

Coal Mine Canary Perched On NY Primary

Hello, all. Here’s a link to my latest Stump Speech column for small but vibrant NYC newspaper, Chelsea Now. Sure, you’re reading it online, but if you live in NYC you can get a real, physical newspaper and read it instead of going to see “Hamilton”.