“Hey, America!
I’ve been kicked off every social media site on the
planet but then someone told me, ‘Donny?…..you think
you’ve hit rock bottom but there’s a whole nuther level of
Loser you ain’t even come close to yet, and that’s
Bikernet. You go on there, not only can you say whatever
the fuck you want, no one will ever EVER find out about it.
It’s that fuckin’ bleak.’ That’s what I was told.
So, I start doin’ some research and I get told by more
than one person, yep, there’s a place that exists that is so far deep into the subterranean muck of obscurity that even I could go there and the New York Times and it’s diapered clone, the Huffington, and not even Reuters-rhymes-withgoiters would ever find out about it.
So, I asked Jared what he thought of the idea and he
said ‘Mmmff-gllpkzzz-gmmmphllgll.’ I said Jared, move
your lips, make your jaw go up and down, TALK to me!
Haha, I kid Jared a lot but that’s because, well….ok,
here, take a look: that’s his picture.
Ok, now ya know.
But let’s get on to business.
I want to say it’s terrific that I’m here on Bikernet, I hear
there’s lots of terrific people connected to this entity……is
that a word? Entity? Must be. It must be a word: it’s got
titty in it. And anything with titties in it is fine with me.
Could be fakes though, right? Could be fakes. Yup. Could
be fakes. Could be fakes. Not that that’s bad, right? Fake
titties?….not a problem. Except at high altitudes. You know that, right?
You mile-highers, you know that, right? You
think you’re gonna get some gently-oozing milk and you
get detonated silicon emulsificated gel all over your face
instead. Yup, them fake titties. What’s that? What about
Ivanka’s titties? Let’s not go there, ok? Let’s try some
decorum. Is that word? Is decorum a word? I think it’s a
word. I don’t know. I don’t know. Let’s take a vote on it.
Just don’t have the Democrats COUNT the votes. Or we’ll never know the true outcome. We’ll never know the true outcome. We’ll never know the true outcome.
People ask me what I’m gonna do now that I’m not
President. I dunno. I guess just watch Joe Biden make
America a shithole again. He’s opened up the border
again, you notice. And if you haven’t noticed everyone in
Mexico, Ecuador, Cwairna-Vaca, Akkeh-PUL-co,
Honduras, Somalia, Nigeria, Iran, Iraq, Whatever
Palestine Is, Mozambique, Tanganyika, Peru, the Persian
Empire and probably Coruscant sure has. They’re already coming in from Tijuana to Tierra Del Fucking Fuego.
A ten thousand mile long line of welfare-addicts waiting for you to pay for their diseases and they’re young. But that’s ok because it’s “caring,” right? That’s the Democrats for ya: forcing people at gunpoint to be saintly. Meanwhile they’re on Epstein Island offering children to Moloch, right? Don’t know if it’s true. Don’t know if it’s true. I’m hearin’ things, don’t know if it’s true.
People ask me whattaya gonna do now that you’re not
President? Well, it’s not as though I am a Democrat and
went into politics after leaving mom’s basement at the age of 50. I do have an actual occupation. If I had been doing my real job while I was also President I would not have just been living in the White House, I would have been replacing the White House. Probably with a high rise. I mean, let’s face it, I took a big step down in living-quarters moving into that relic from Wuthering Heights. I mean, talk about dreary architecture. It’s not Frank Geary, right? It’s not something out of Blade Runner, is it. It’s something out of Tobacco Road. It’s like a museum with bad paintings.
You ever see the artwork in that place? It’s all men looking at you. Everywhere you go there’s some man….and he’s always a bureaucrat, right? Some fellow former officeholder up there on the wall checking you out.
You’re supposed to look at him looking at you. That’s your Art Experience in the White House: staring at Woodrow Wilson picking his nose. Wow. There’s an aesthetic interlude, right? You staring at Franklin Roosevelt staring back at you. Or Eleanor. Jesus. Talk about paperbagready. Jack Elam was cuter than that arachnid-faced horror. Who’s Jack Elam? Look him up. He’s that actor who was in a lot of westerns who had one eye that was looking sideways around a corner while the other eye was more or less looking at you. Great guy. But not a good looking man. And Eleanor Roosevelt was also not a good looking man.
How about that Pelosi, uh? Miss Rack. Well, she wasn’t
when that picture was taken but she sure is now. What’s
THAT all about. Have you seen that picture? Taken 100
years ago when she was 60. She was Miss Rack. A bunch of car mechanics voted her Miss Rack. She’s standing there in the middle of some guys and she is more like miss Level Surface than Miss Rack from what I can see. But you look at her now she’s got jugs so big they pull her forward like she’s the number 7 walkin’ around.
I need someone to find out if that Miss Rack yarn is actually factual (the photo is not, proportedly). If it is it’s the best thing she ever did ’cause her performance as a bureaucrat is a fuckin’ clownhouse of catastrophe.
You notice she’s always got Schumer
standing next to her when there’s cameras around. He’s
so fuckin’ ugly you’re actually forced to look at her. And
she knows that. Schumer thinks she just likes him. No,
she likes bein’ looked at, and that’s the only way she can
get anyone to do that is stand next to Schumer.
Then there KAH-mala. That’s how she insists her name
be pronounced. Not Kah-MA-la. No… KAH-mala. I just call her Kneepads Harris. Good name, right? I mean if you gotta be famous for something what she’s famous for is as good a thing as any.
She likes to think she’s forceful, right? No man can
withstand her verbal attacks. She’s a prosecutor. Trey
Gowdy could have her in tears if they went head-to-head,
and I really hate to use that word in a Harris-related
sentence because it immediately causes a multi-car
collision of confusion. So, if they went nose to nose. She’s supposed to be so tough, but I saw her on a stage once, sitting at some political swah-ray, and she’s got a mike and she’s talking into it all pleasant to a roomful of, ya know, her audience of strident warrior women who look like basset hounds and men with alternate life styles….and some deranged homeless loon runs up and snatches the mike out of her hands and starts yelling at the audience about injustice on the planet Venus….and Kah-MA-lah is sitting there with this shell-shocked grin on her face like, “Where am I?…..what is happening?……is this a scary thing?….or a HAPPY thing?……will I be hurt?…..is there candy at the end of all this?……is this a prank and part of the fun?……”
Here’s where this is going: she is about as ferocious as
Tweety Bird. You hit a piano key hard enough and she’s up on the ceiling with her hand-and-foot-talons deep into the lath and plaster and looking down with the scared look of a baby squirrel that just heard a thunderbolt. A clogged gurgling sink would scare the shit out of her and if it scared ALL the shit out of her she’d just be a pile of
clothes on the floor. Which is where her clothes usually
end up when she’s negotiating for a promotion. You ever
see her naked? No? Then you must not have a job in
government. WHOA!!! Good one.
People ask who writes your material? The Democrats do. The difference is they actually make you obey their jokes. I just make you laugh at them.
Hey, no, really, you’ve all been great, and next time I
show up here on Bikernet let’s hope that it’s actually me
and not the asshole who is at the moment pretending to
be me.
Good night! God bless America!!”
Sincerely, Donald J Trump as portrayed by John J Solari,
Thank you.
