I have decided to get Trumped. All my life, I have been swimming upstream, no one told me there was fame and money in being stupid and hateful. Why am I broke?
Last week I read on Facebook – those mysterious ads popped up on my page – that Donald Trump, Warren Buffett and Denzel Washington, three successful older men, were all taking the same smart pill, brain and memory enhancement tablets available only on the Internet. They all swore by it, they said it was a wonderful pill, it was a key to their success. They no longer needed to nap, they said, their IQ's had doubled overnight, their memories were sharp, their minds racing.
Hmmm, I thought, I could use a brain enhancement, I want to double my memory, I have to stop sometimes to remember my name.
I found the pill on Amazon, it arrived yesterday, it is miraculous. It has already changed my life.
It is supposed to work instantly and it does. I was up all night, I watched two mysteries on Netflix, finished two novels, started a third and woke Maria up, demanding to discuss the spiritual symbols and sexual habits of Nefertiti and the ancient Goddesses. I asked her if she thought I was sexy now that my brain was enhanced.
Maria rolled over and yawned, she told me she would break my fingers if I bothered her again, and she said I was crazy to buy brain tablets online. It was a scam, she said, and we couldn't afford it. I pointed out that she was not being good to me, she was a bimbo and a slut and was probably on the rag as well. She will never be great.
A few minutes later, I woke up on the floor with a sore butt and a bruise on my cheek. I was confused, Maria did not praise me for speaking my mind and for not being afraid to be a complete asshole in public. If I had known sooner that there was so much money in being ignorant and hateful, my life would have been different.
But it is not a straight path. Maria had pushed me out of bed with one foot. Reporters were not calling to ask my opinion about climate change. I was undeterred, my brain was racing, nourished, spinning. My memory was amazing, I was recalling every stupid and hateful thing Donald Trump had ever said. "Oh, no," Maria said. "God help us."
I got up and looked in the mirror. My new hair was there, the pills were truly amazing.
Red took one look at my hair, and he growled and bit me on the leg and ran and hid under the dining room table. He wouldn't come out, not even to herd the sheep. Fate came running over and tried to jump up and grab my hair. She acted like my hair was her toy or something, I kicked her across the room. She is just a slut. And I love sluts. They are great.
I told Maria to get with the program, that I was going to allow my hair to grow out, with the new pills it would not take long. I will tell you in all honesty, my hair is great, I am great, it is not a wig. Everyone loves it, everyone is telling me it is great. I asked Maria to pull my hair, and she did, but she yelped and claimed it bit her on the finger. She says she won't touch it anymore. She says she won't touch me anymore. I am not worried. Women love me, I love women. They are great.
This morning, focused and alert and feeling sharp and successful, I got up, took the dogs, went to Stewart's, the convenience store where all the farmers and the men in big trucks hang out every morning, their trucks idling outside, they gossip like girls. They grunt and grumble. They are great, they love me. I walked up to Bridget Shaunessy, the tough old Irish mom behind the cash register, and I asked her what she thought of my hair. She said it looked like a ferret was nesting on my head.
I called her a stupid whore and asked her if she was bleeding from down there, and she came around the counter and whupped me upside the head with a coffee mug, and then her three sons, whose pick-ups were idling outside, picked me up and threw me in the dumpster. I said she was a pervert, how could she think I was referring to her time of the month, I was just explaining myself. She poured coffee on my hair. It sizzled, burst into flames.
A group of Scottish-American farmers gathered around to see why I was in the dumpster, they helped me climb out. They were all named McLanahan or McClachlan. I unveiled my agricultural program to them. First, I said, we had to send the Jews back to where they came from, we were not getting the good ones, the Jews we are getting are not great, they are not good people, they are all thieves and scumbags and lechers. Rapists too, maybe.
Just look at the politicians mailing their penises all over Twitter and Facebook, some of them are Jewish. Send them back, we will build a huge wall around the Jews to keep them out, it will be beautiful, we'll make them pay for it, they'll be happy to do it, because they know I am great, we will all be great again, it will be a great wall, don't listen to the media, they are all bleeding from down there, they are all perverts. And I love Jews, and they love me, they think I am great. And I have to be honest, I am a Jew. I have worked with lots of Jews, and some are my friends, I will have to send them back where they came from, but they will still think I am great.
The farmers loved my idea about the Jews, they looked a little puzzled, they hadn't heard those things about them, and didn't know they were causing such trouble, but they said I was telling it like it is, I was not afraid of the politically correct people who are ruining our country with their stupid demands that we stop persecuting people and telling them how to live. America needs to be great again, I said, we have to get back to hating people and discriminating against them and persecuting them and stealing their money and making the poor miserable. You know, the good old days when women did what they were told, they were not loud-mouthed bimbos like my wife. Why not look into owning people again, get business moving, start some more wars? I got a round of applause for that, although I noticed most of the farmers were slipping away.
Good, I said, thanks, you are great, we will be great together. After the Jews are gone, let's send the Irish and the Scottish people back across the sea, they are all drunks and probably sleeping with their sisters and cousins. We don't need farmers, they don't play golf or stay in expensive hotels, they are dirty, probably perverts. We can buy what we need from peasants and coolies and poor people in other countries, we can put up condos and golf courses on all of the farms, that's what I do all over the country. And you know what, it's great, it really is. The media will never tell you that, but just ask my stockholders, they will tell you how great it is.
The mood changed, the farmers and the big men in trucks didn't like that, they threw me back in the dumpster. Everybody is afraid to speak in this country, not me. Let's talk I said. I asked them to pull my hair for themselves, and a young woman said she would and gave it a tug, but it pooped on her hand, and she screamed, and then it bit her too, she said if she had rabies she would come back and find me and sue me. Not if I sue you first, I said. The bimbo. She owes me an apology, I'm sick of all this sensitivity.
As I moved quickly away from Stewart's, there was an incident. A red squirrel jumped out of a tree and landed on my head and tried to have sex with my hair, there was a lot of squealing and screaming up there. My new security detail came running over the tried to shoot the squirrel, but the bullets just bounced off my hair, and I think the squirrel is hiding up there. I don't blame him. It's great up there. It was no big deal. There's room for him if he wants to stay.
I love my new pills, and my refurbished brain. I love being Trumped, I am reborn. For just $30. My memory is twice as good, I don't feel like taking a nap. I am awash in new ideas, as you can see. The truth is, I am great. I have great ideas. I always have. Some people don't like me, but hey, you can't make an omelette, right….? I see the whole world as eggs to break, when you think about it, it's a brilliant idea. That's who I am. I am just a brilliant man, that is why everybody loves me.
I am loving Donald Trump. I am being Trumped. I like finally being loved, I see the path. There is no future in this writing stuff, my pills have already made me see that. Last night I sat up until sunrise reading some of his quotes. Like this one: "I try to learn from the past, but I plan for the future by focusing exclusively on the present. That's where the fun is." If you think about it, it's very true. It's great.
I woke Maria up to read this to her. She did not get the program, I might have have to find a new wife, one who appreciates me. That will be easy. Women love me so much. I have always loved women. Women are great, and I am great, so what is the problem?
Maria threatened to spray me with some disinfectant in the kitchen if I didn't stay away from her. She said she would call the police if my hair came anywhere near her. Or if I did.
She said she was going out in the barn to sleep with the donkeys. She said if she was going to sleep with an ass, at least the ass ought to make sense and not have a dead and smelly thing on it's head. She said my hair belonged to Fate, and I should give it back to her. I said she was probably just another stupid whore, she will be left behind when America is great again, and then I ran out of the bedroom before she could get out of bed and slug me once more. I do not think she will ever be great, she is just a bimbo like Megyn Kelley. As I ran, I yelled that she should be apologizing to me. Because, you know, after all, I am great.
My head barked at her. How great.
And oh yes. I do not wear a wig.