Trump’s Popularity Ratings
With President Trump’s popularity ratings in the dumpster, the Donald had a question for me. Actually, he had a lot of them. For fans of the fakest news in the business, I’ll try to recall the gist of our talk for you. Keep in mind, Trump isn’t what you’d call articulate, so I’ll do my best.
“You see the headlines, Mikey? Trump’s popularity ratings lower than Nixon’s? Like I told you, I’m setting records.”
“That one is not something to brag about.”
“You kidding? I brag about everything.”
“You’re not big on self-reflection, are you?”
“I’m the biggest self-reflector ever. Every day I stare into my mirror, admiring my good looks. You know that expression God made us in his image? Well, he meant me. If Jesus came back, he’d want my face. He wouldn’t have stayed a virgin long then, would he, Mikey?”
So much for self-reflection. “So, you’re not worried about your lousy ratings? Being the most unpopular president in history?”
“I suppose I am. Not for me, but for the country.”
“You mean Mother Russia?”
“Always with the jokes.”
“I wish.”
“Let’s be serious for a minute. You think this putt breaks right at the hole, or should I play it straight.”
“I’d like to see you play it straight for once. So would America.”
“Another joke?”
“Not that time.”
“You think President Trump’s approval ratings would soar if everyone knew what a great golfer I was?”
“You wanna be more popular, you shouldn’t refer to yourself in third person.”
“Why not? Isn’t the royal form of address?”
“The common people might find it off-putting.”
“What’s with those commoners, anyway?”
“We want our president to stop kidnapping babies, hitting on porn stars, enjoying golden showers from Russian hookers. . .”
“I’m not sure if enjoy is the right word. Trust me, that was not as much fun as Vladi said it would be. Allegedly.”
“Where was I? Oh yeah, then there’s obstruction of justice, taking health care away from 20 million people, playing nice with Putin, getting played by Kim Jong Un. . .”
“Jesus Christ, Mikey, you could go on all day.”
“See? That’s the problem.”
“What about the great stuff I’ve done? Made the rich richer, made the environment poorer, alienated our allies, started a trade war with China? If making the U.S. the laughing stock of the world doesn’t make me popular with the common people, I don’t know what will.”
“You are popular with uncommon people.”
“You mean the Deplorables and those Q-maniacs? Or as I call them, my base. Those lunatics cheer at everything I say, no matter how demented. Aren’t they the greatest? I put down the Elite, telling my people that I’m more elite than the elite. They can enjoy the foul air from deregulated coal factories and foul water from fracking even better knowing that their leader is a billionaire. They go back to their shithole trailer parks and tell each other how great I am.”
“What about everyone else? How will you get them on board the Trump train? Stop the Democrats from taking over Congress in the mid-terms?”
“I’ve advised Republican candidates to go strong on fear tactics. Forget human rights, and worry about aliens raping their babies.”
“I’ve seen those ads. Heinous.”
“Thanks.”
“I hope that’s not all.”
“It’s not. I’ve been tossing some ideas around with my Brain Trust.”
“Jared and Ivanka?”
“Right. Lemme run a couple things by you. First, we’re gonna put my head on Mt. Rushmore.”
“Where? There’s no room for something that bloated.”
“Since I’m the most presidential president in history, we might as well get rid of those posers and make the whole thing me. Then headlines will read: Trump’s approval ratings skyrocket!”
“What else you got?”
“You’re gonna love this one. We change the money.”
“Into rubles?”
“Not till I hand over the reins to Putin. We’ll stick with dollars for now.”
“How you gonna change them?”
“First of all, we get rid of those dead presidents. Who needs ’em when we’ve got a live president who’s three under par on the front nine?”
“If you don’t count two out of bounds, three in the water, and never putting.”
“Whatever it takes, long as I win. Let’s talk about money. That’s where my heart is.”
“Bullshit, Donald, you don’t have one.”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“Okay, let me hear the plan.”
“Sure. By the way, what is hideous Ben Franklin doing on the hundred dollar bill? He wasn’t even a president? What’d he ever do for America?”
“Is that a plan or a rant?”
“Whaddaya think, Mikey? Won’t our money be more valuable with my handsome face on the bills?”
“You’ll put yourself on every bill?”
“Sure, why not? That’ll guarantee my popularity with the common people who use them.”
“Your Brain Trust told you that?”
“No, they suggested I only be on the hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, and so on. That way I won’t seem pretentious. . .whatever that means.”
“I’m impressed with your humility. Who’ll be on the other notes?”
“Ivanka wants be on the fifty. She’s much prettier than Grant. I mean would you have sex with Grant?”
“Good point, even if it makes you seem creepy.”
“You telling me you wouldn’t have sex with Ivanka? I know I. . .”
“Let’s focus on the money. Who’s on the twenty?”
“That goes to Jared for all the fine work he’s done running the country while I play golf.”
“What about the smaller denominations?”
“We still have those? Jesus. Well, I suppose I could put Donald, Jr., on the ten.”
“What about the five?”
“I guess the other one, what’s his name? With the teeth?”
“Eric?”
“Right, right. Are there any left?”
“Children or notes?”
“Either one.”
“There’s the one dollar bill.”
“Seriously? Who’s on that?”
“The founder of our country.”
“Come on, Mikey, I need a name, not a hint.”
“Washington.”
“State or D.C.?”
“George.”
“Oh, I get it. Like the memorial. Everyone talked like he was a big deal, but was he a billionaire? Hell, no, which is why the poor schmuck ends up on our bottom dog currency. Who do you think I should put there?”
“If you’re going with the family theme, I guess you could choose Tiffany or Barron.”
“Who?”
I could go on, but with my new book Maui Wowee coming out in two weeks, I’ve got things to do. I hope your week goes better than the Donald’s.
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