Thanksgiving greetings from President Trump

 Thanksgiving greetings from President Trump

 

Thanksgiving morning hadn’t gone well, but I thought the worst was over. . .until Kellyanne Conway called to say, “Hold for Thanksgiving greetings from President Trump, and I knew I was wrong.

I got up early to write you but my computer had crashed. And not just for a nap, the damn thing was comatose. It was four in the morning, too early to roust my computer guy. Then I went downstairs to heat up some coffee. As I pushed start, my  microwave kicked the dust. Then Jill, Thanksgiving hostest to the most, who was hosting a pot luck dinner, called. Where was my offering? She meant the pot part of pot luck and she didn’t wanna wait till dessert. Which is why she said, “Hurry.” It was eight in the morning, a little early for dinner, but I thought: Fine, I’ll bring some stash and then return later. And as I headed out to my truck, wearing my holiday tennies, the special ones I wear when I write to you, I spotted a dog turd near my front porch. It looked one of Luna’s, my neighbor’s dog. Luna thought it was funny to drop a dukie in Lola’s territory, which is why Lola returned the favor. They had a little competition. Glad that I spotted the land mine and avoided, I walked towards my truck. . .only to put my holiday tennies right on top of another freshly laid pile. Well, you know what mean, half an hour spent cleaning the wet shit out of each and every of the thousand little cells on my stylish holiday tennies. Which is why Jill kept calling.

“I’m leaving now.”

“No more delays.”

“Of course not.” And that’s when the batphone rang and a voice said, “Hold for Thanksgiving greetings from President Trump.”

“Happy Thankgiving, Mikey! Hw ya doing?”

“I’ve had better mornings, and the world is going to shit, but I can find plenty to be thankful for. How about you?”

“I’m thankful, too. Thankful for the great job I’m doing for the country. Also, for being so rich, handsome, so very, very big-brained. Not that I’m bragging.”

“You sure did a lot of that during your Fox News interview with Chris Wallace.”

“You mean my report card?”

“Among other things.”

“In all humility, I think I’m doing a great job. I would give myself ― look, I hate to do it but I will do it ― I would give myself an A+. Is that enough? Can I go higher than that?”

“By great job, you mean destroying the climate.”

“I guess you saw that government report that the global warming hoax will cost the economy hundreds of billions of dollars?”

“They’re just repeating what everyone but you and your greedy cronies already knows.”

“Oh, we know, all right, we just don’t admit it. Besides, who needs science when we’ve got President Trump? I’ve already found the solution.”

“Really?”

“Burn enough coal to block out the sun completely! Huh? Am I very stable genius or what?”

“Is that what your lackies tell you?”

“Except for that Kirstjen Nielsen, the White House runs like a well-oiled machine. Maybe I should oil her down, teach her some manners, right, Mikey?”

“Should America thank you for telling the world we don’t care about human rights, only money?”

“You still hung up on MBS killing Khashoggi?”

“Yes.”

“Well, so am I.”

“Only because you can’t get away with the same shit here.”

“Heh heh, you know me so well. Like I always say, Saudi Arabia first!”

“Don’t you mean America first?”

“Oops, don’t tell anyone I said that. It makes me look like Saudi Arabia’s bitch.”

“No shit. Vladi’s gonna be jealous.”

“Heh heh. But you should be thankful to the Saudis for buying all those arms from our defense contractors. They’re spending trillions of dollars, creating millions of jobs.”

“That’s not true.”

“Maybe not, but without Saudi Arabia starving 85,000 Yemeni children to death and using our arms to bomb non-military targets, those little brats would be able to join the caravans from Mexico. And you know how murderous those Middle Easterners are.”

“Should I be thankful that we’re killing the ocean?”

“Jesus Christ, Mikey. Would you lighten up and give me some praise?”

“Not till you deserve it.”

“Fine. What am I supposed to do about the ocean?”

“How about wising up about fossil fuels? How about using some of billions you spend on unneeded military bullshit. . .”

“You mean the Space Force and protecting our southern border from mothers and children that may or may not be dangerous thugs? That want to cook my Big Mac’s and clean my hotels for minimum wage?”

“Among other things. Look, we need to save the oceans. Not just from global warming, but from plastics and toxic waste. They found a sperm whale with several plastic bottles, 100 plastic cups, flip flops, and God knows what inside.”

“So that’s who keeps stealing my flip flops. Serves him right for dying.”

“Come on, Donald, don’t you care about anything that’s not named Trump?”

“What are you worried about? Thanks to my policies the whales are adapting, learning how to survive on new foods. If only California’s trees would learn to adapt to fire.”

“Your remarks about the fire were ridiculous. You really should learn the facts before you speak.”

“I don’t need facts, not when I have strong opinions. If I wasn’t so busy Tweeting rants about everyone who displeases me, I’d have put those fires out myself.”

“You’d just rush in and stop a firestorm as big as Chicago?”

“Sure. I’d prove it the next time, if not for these bone spurs.”

 

Well, you can see why my Thanksgiving morning went downhill, but after hanging up the phone, I adjusted my attitude, and felt fine again.

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