The Donald & Me
Except that President Trump is tall, very rich, lives in the White House and has all his own hair, he reminds me of me. On the chance you don’t see it, let me explain.
Except that President Trump is tall, very rich, lives in the White House and has all his own hair, he reminds me of me. On the chance you don’t see it, let me explain.
When I was in high school, I tried out for the tennis team. Selection was to be determined through a series of elimination matches. For the final slot, it came down to me and another guy, and I beat him.
That should have been that, but the guy definitely had better form. He’d probably had lessons. I assume that’s why the coach, a schmuck named Taafe, decided he wanted the other guy on the team. So, he ordered us to play a rematch. When I beat him again, even Taafe had no option but to have me on the team.
As I said, the other hopeful looked like he knew what he was doing on the court, and I didn’t. The difference, as I saw it, was that I really hated losing, especially once the coach broke his own rules to ensure I’d lose.
The other problem for my opponent was that he couldn’t hit anything I couldn’t get back, no matter how ridiculous I may have looked as I scurried all over the court chasing down the ball. Eventually, as his frustration mounted, he would either hit the ball into the net or the back fence.
That’s how I view Trump. One, he really hates losing, especially when he finds himself battling not only the Democrats on Capital Hill, but their stooges in the media, along with such Republican Quislings as John McCain, Lindsey Graham, Lisa Murkowski and Susan Collins.
Two, he doesn’t care if he always looks or sounds presidential — or at least what his foes deem presidential. That’s because he’s motivated by a sincere desire to do right for America, not to collect brownie points from the NY Times and CNN.
That is also what motivates me today. However, back in high school, I must confess my only motivation was to make the tennis team, especially once that s.o.b., Leonard Taafe, did everything he could to stop me.
Speaking of President Trump, the Democrats keep calling for an investigation into Russian influence with this administration, but nary a word did they or the media ever utter about the fact that Secretary of State Hillary Clinton turned over 20% of America’s uranium to the Kremlin in exchange for a bribe to the Clinton Foundation.
In the meantime, Rep. Maxine Waters and some of her colleagues are calling for Trump’s impeachment because foreign dignitaries might book rooms at his Washington hotel. Oh, really? They really think the President is going to sell out America for the price of a hotel reservation? Or are they really that concerned that if Putin comes to town, he might get a few extra mints on his pillow?
How quickly they forget that just a few short years ago they and their supreme leader, Barack Hussein Obama, were ridiculing Mitt Romney for even suggesting that Russia posed a threat to the U.S.
In case you have been wondering what Henry Waxman has been doing since he retired from Congress, wonder no longer. Like every other hack who has ever come down with a case of Potomac fever, he opened an influence peddling outfit called Waxman Strategies. Henry is the Chairman; his son Michael is the President and CEO.
Waxman exemplifies why Trump’s efforts to drain the swamp, no matter how sincere, are doomed to failure. Even though Trump will do everything in his power to prevent ex-office holders from hanging out a shingle as a registered lobbyist, the riffraff will simply hire themselves out as lawyers, consultants or strategists. Whatever the title, the coin of the realm is the access to their former colleagues they can offer their well-heeled clients.
It turns out that the kerfuffle over the Best Picture Award at the Oscars was merely one of many boneheaded mistakes they made. During the segment when tribute is made to the notables who died during the preceding year, they somehow managed to overlook the likes of Florence Henderson, Doris Roberts, Robert Vaughn and Gary Shandling.
As embarrassing as that was, they also ran a photo of a living actress instead of the actress who had passed away, and announced the death of an Australian movie producer who is still very much alive.
But the snub over which the Hollywood half-wits must really be kicking themselves is having missed out on the opportunity to pat themselves on the back by paying their final respects to a guy who started out in life as Robert Arquette, the brother of Patricia, Rosanna and David Arquette, and died at the age of 47, as a bit actress named Alexis Arquette, the sister of Patricia, Rosanna and David Arquette.
People keep sending me pictures with funny captions, so I feel duty bound to share the best of them with you.
The first showed a car with a broken window. Caption: I had two Justin Bieber tickets on my front seat, and some jackass smashed my window and left four more.
The next was all text, defining Democrats: A bunch of rich people convincing poor people to vote for rich people by telling the poor people that other rich people are the reason they’re poor.
The third shows two smiling adults and two happy kids in a station wagon. The caption: “We’re going down to Mexico to vote in their elections and demand free healthcare while waving the American flag. If they ask for our papers, we’ll riot, attack police and sue them. Wanna come along?”
The fourth shows Maxine Waters, Elizabeth Warren and Nancy Pelosi on a movie poster, with a caption reading The Democratic Party presents The Three Stooges. Fun is fun, but I’m sure Larry, Moe and Curly, would take them to court if they were still alive. I mean, the worst thing those goofballs ever did was gouge out each other’s eyes.
After writing recently about my cursed ability to spot punchlines long before the joke teller gets there, one of my readers, who identifies himself as Steve from Doylestown, decided to put me to the test.
“Two Jewish men, Hymie and Moshe, are out for a stroll when they come upon a Catholic Church with a sign outside offering $1,000 to anyone joining the parish. The two men look at each other, and Hymie says: "You go ahead, I’ll sit out here on the bench.”
A half hour goes by, and Hymie finally spots Moshe coming out. “Well, did you get your money?”
Moshe replies: “Is that all you people ever think about?”
I had to admit I didn’t spot the punchline. I figured something along lines of the priest playing the guilt card and getting him to put the money in the collection plate.
I guess it all comes down to whose stereotype is being gored.
