Yesterday, in a New Hampshire rally, Donald Trump:
Told his fans to quit their jobs for the next year so the unemployment rate goes up and Biden looks bad.
Told his fans to take their money out of the stock market so the stock market crashes and Biden looks bad.
Told his fans who are on Obamacare to stop insuring their health to make Obama look bad.
Told his fans they need to start planning now to get their elderly relatives ready to die trying to vote for him in November, no matter how much the exertion might kill them, and he said he was sure all the elderly had lived big, long, beautiful lives, and would all be happy to die to keep him out of prison.”
Told his elderly fans to put him in their wills, and donate their cars to his super PAC.
Told his voters to buy his upcoming batch of NFTs featuring him as the various 12 Greek gods, and then ranted about how hot the female versions of him as the goddesses are, and how giant their breasts are. He said he always thought he’d have been one of the great beauties of all time if he had been a girl, and he cited his daughter Ivanka’s physical attributes to describe how his own legs, hips, butt, and boobs would have looked. He then discussed about his “big Trump brain,” and reminded the audience he had gone to Wharton. He also said he didn’t need college, and he had been smarter than everyone else around him, even the professors, and he knew it because he said he paid someone else to take his SATs, and no one figured it out, and he paid other students to do all his homework and take all his tests, and he was so smart he bought his way to a degree. He said that’s how you know he’s a genius at business: because he spent 10x more money for his degree than everyone else. He reiterated many times he could guarantee each individual NFT that his fans buy will be worth $1 million “two weeks after his inauguration,” and that he has only the best of the best people working for him on his NFTs. He interspersed multiple times it was “definitely not a pump and dump scheme.” Then he mentioned windmills out of nowhere, and went hard on that subject for six minutes. He said he felt very sorry for all the ruined views in “Real America” because of socialist wind turbines, and he felt even sorrier for all the dead birds. Then he said he felt bad for his dead ex-wife. He said he had actually been frequently visiting her grave on his golf course every day and saying a little prayer for her from the golf cart between the 7th and 8th holes. He reminded the crowd he had married two Europeans. But then he said he wouldn’t come to the aid of any European nations in NATO because what have they ever done for him? He complained about Angela Merkel in ways that appeared to suggest he thought she was still the chancellor of Germany. He said she reminded him of his mom, and he hated his mom. He paused for a moment reflectively, and then in a shocking moment of seriousness remarked that his mother’s coldness had left him a scared little boy, and, no matter how old he gets, he’s still just that scared little boy. He rocked back and forth for a moment on the mat he now brings to his events to stand on. Then he did the dance move with his hands and elbows for a little bit. When he got tired he reached for a can of Diet Coke stored underneath the podium, opened it, and chugged it. He asked aloud, “Is Diet Coke one of the Woke ones?” Then he said he was going to round up all his enemies, and let Stephen Miller do “medical testing” on them. He said he’s never met anyone more interested in medical science than Stephen Miller. He said he and Stephen were a lot alike, and that when they were both little, they both liked killing small forest animals. Then he bragged about passing the dementia test with flying colors, and called Biden sleepy. He mentioned that, because Biden stole his “rightful second term” from him, he should get to be president from 2024 and then get a third term in 2028 to make up for the lost time. Then he said all the things again about E. Jean Carroll that got him expensively sued once already. Then he made a face that looked quite a lot like he defecated in his trousers. Elise Stefanik, who had been standing behind him since she had introduced him onstage, crinkled her nose and appeared to turn her head to her side to try and get a breath of the untainted air on the opposite side away from Trump’s now smeared anus. As Trump began bragging about a Ukraine deal he said he thought up but couldn’t tell anyone about yet, and promised it would make everyone and both Ukraine and Putin so unbelievably happy, he began awkwardly shifting weight from leg to leg. It was somewhat obvious from the expression on his face and his tensing pale eyebrow muscles he was trying to assess the fecal damage. He squinched one side of his mouth, apparently feeling it begin to pool in the bottom of his diaper. But then Trump was startled by Stefanik leaning over and throwing up on the ground behind Trump. She quickly wiped her mouth on her shoulder, and then leaned back up with two thumbs-up gestures. Trump looked at the splashed vomit and got squeamish, and ordered someone to come clean up the mess. “Why do women always do this around me?” he asked himself loud enough for the microphone to pick up. Then he leaned into the mic, and had an exceptionally empathetic moment where he said he wished Nikki Haley well in the primary, and he hoped his fans and voters would respect her hard work, and he said he thought she was real courageous, and that her life story deserves the respect of all citizens, regardless of political affiliations. Then he said he was actively considering Nikki Haley as his VP if she was willing to beg him for it. Stefanik got wide-eyed and gasped at hearing Trump might pick Haley over her, but, unfortunately, as she involuntarily reacted to the thought of having sold her political soul without getting the ultimate reward of being selected as Trump’s VP, Trump made another face that seemed to suggest behind its facade of humility that he sharted again. Elise Stefanik’s scandalized gasp inhaled the explosion of squalid feculence, and she grabbed her throat with both hands as her tongue waved in and out of her coughing mouth. Her face turned purple, and she collapsed to the ground. Trump’s stench had killed again.
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Hmmm
He deliberately made himself political in this way - a Corpse. . ..
Who will be trusted more - the one who thinks about quality through profit, or the one who thinks about profit through quality?