About Last Night

Trump - lubed up for the Big One last night in Michigan, where history's longest serving US House member died 8 months ago

Max Lead:

Look, sir I know you don't like to read, or know things. And like we told you from the beginning, that's perfectly OK. But you do need to listen some, OK? At least when we pinch your fingernails and remove the food bowl. 

Sir, I know when when I said "Dingle Dynasty" on Air Force One last night on the way to the Michigan rally you may have thought that I said Dingle Berry. But Mr. President I wasn't referring to those little pieces of shit you snacked on as an (ignored) child - I was talking about a recently deceased US Congressmen who was elected 30 times by the voters in Michigan. I know you don't like math either, sir but that works out to 59 years in office.

In a state where we had a comfortable 11,000 vote margin. 

AND YOU KNOW that the guy died 8 months ago and even Republicans liked him, right? I know you know this because I fucking shouted it into your good ear just as you were snorting your last Adderall before going onstage last night.

When they go dead - you go brain dead, sir.


As usual, after seeing the polling this morning - we owe you an apology.

We were mucho impressed with your pummeling of John Dingle's widow last night, sir. Implying that the stupid bitch's recently deceased husband might be burning in hell was a masterstroke. Even for a genius like you, sir.

Lord knows that if you can't throw a good gut punch at a widow at Christmas - how are we going to knock out Sleepy Joe in the fall. We all know you're just warming up. And we know that when you uncage your monkeys after the Conventions that those monkeys will most certainly fly, sir. 

In the meantime we think your instinct of picking on women to stay in shape for the general is - like all your instincts, sir  -  not only dripping in slime but, well... perfect in every other way, too. And since Nervous Nancy bitch slapped you hard enough to induce CTE I think you've made a wise choice in tapping out and moving on to the widow of a recently deceased political icon in a swing state with 16 electoral votes. Not only do you not miss any meals, sir, you don't miss much of anything else do you?

 Your political instincts remain... deadly. Stay classy, sir. Stay a genius?

While we're on the subject (and believe me, we're on it plenty when you're not around, sir) you look and sound about as stable lately as your business empire. Perhaps Ben Carson said it best in the cabinet room after you left the other day (as Wilbur Ross and Mike Pompeo were fighting over the Danish you uncharacteristically left uneaten):

"As they say in the PR biz, when they tear your name off of all your buildings just make sure they spell it right!"

Ben's hanging in there, sir.

I know how crazy this sounds - but you haven't started drinking have you, sir?  Because those slurs are getting worse.  And I'm not just talking about the ones I write for immigrants and African Americans.

Stop whining now, sir. Your cheeseburger and poutine are almost here, ok? Take a Sudafed.

While we're waiting, you'll love this one, sir: We were all down in the White House mess this morning eating Chopped Child Parts Pizza from Ping Pong (it's finally on Door Dash - we like ours with extra tears) and Kelley Ann was speculating on whether that worthless crackhead sister of yours who died in the dope house was hanging out in Hell with Congressman Dingle? Well, I guess you can imagine how hard we all laughed.

Kelley Belly is hanging in too, sir. Her sense of humor as intact as the day we hatched her. I've lost track; I can't remember if she's the fifth or the sixth one. But on the next iteration they're going to infuse the Newport smoke a little earlier. This will enhance the trailer trash appearance and possibly even make the next copy even meaner. If you can imagine it. Just another thing Hitler was right about: biotechnology is cool is shit, sir.

Oh, and we've started focus grouping for the October Surprise episode. We're going into pre-production next week. Working title is Funny Like How? 

That corporal we have running Defense came up with this discussion topic:

If it would make the stock market go to 35,000 -  would you be willing to vote for Donald Trump if he started a global thermonuclear war that killed you and all of your immediate family members?

We've been looking for a hook, and a patsy to deliver it - and Mulvaney and I think this guy has potential. You were right again, sir. "Acting" is the way to go with this whole Cabinet Secretary thing. I seem to remember you saying at Epstein's that night:  "Don't worry, they're just secretaries."

By the way you've got the go-code memorized to activate the football like we rehearsed right, sir? That's correct sir, 3,2,1. Mind like a steel trap as always, sir.

Speaking of Mulvaney, the Polonium came last night in the diplomatic pouch and everything is on schedule. It's either going to look like a heart attack, a car wreck, or auto-erotic asphyxiation gone awry. Or maybe even the measles. But like you said, sir: Who gives a fuck, it's Mulvaney!

GOD DAMN this is a fun place to work. And I owe it all to you. Well, you and the Other White Meat Big Guy of course.

It's going to get very, very, very ugly after they acquit you, sir. But I guess that's why they call the years that precede a prison suicide at 37 "The Best Years Of Our Lives."

Impeachment's going to be good for us sir, you'll see. I'll be back on Wednesday to pick you up for the Florida rally. Let me know if you need me to adjust the straps. But you've gotta stop asking to be let go. You remember the rules until the Election: only out for the rallies. 

* * *

"OK, you can give him back his bowl and remote - and hit the lights and the propofol, he's fussy.  And fucking clean it out in there will you?"

Stephen Miller

  - 666 is sexy