Donald Trump recently attempted a campaign stunt wherein he climbed into a garbage truck, in an attempt to deflate outrage after the warm-up act at his Madison Square Garden Rally of Hate likened Puerto Rico to a floating island of garbage.
It did not go well. It took Trump three tries to grab the handle of the truck’s passenger door. See for yourselves:
Oh. My. GOD! Could this man apply any more of that burnt orange makeup? Could he miss any more of his face, like his upper lip? And no, this picture has not been Photoshopped or altered in any way. This is Donald Trump in public, with the makeup that he himself applied. Maybe he didn’t have time to check himself in the mirror because he had to spend the next hour weaving and gluing his remaining 12 hairs into place? Whatever.
Donald Trump, at a rally in Nevada, claimed that 29,000 people came to watch him “work” for five minutes at a McDonald’s restaurant in Featherville-Trevose, Pennsylvania.
29,000.
Here’s an aerial view of the McDonald’s in Featherville-Trevose, Pennsylvania, courtesy of Google Maps. Your job is to try to figure out exactly where he put the 29,000 people.
Donald Trump is many things: a con artist, a fraud, a huckster, a liar, a serial adulterer, a racist, a fascist, a fat, balding man with bad skin, a draft dodger, and… a clown. Here’s Trump pretending to drive a truck. (He thinks you make the truck move by yelling at it…)
Here’s Donald Trump pretending to work at McDonald’s. (Either that, or he’s trying to give a State of the Union address from the take-out window of a McDonald’s…)
As far as anyone can tell, Trump lives in a fantasy world where he, and he alone, should decide what other people should be allowed to do, say, wear, think, or be. He believes anything he sees in a right-wing conspiracy blog (or X, which is essentially the same thing these days…) and he lives for cosplay. His mind, such as it ever was, is rapidly decomposing. He is barely able to utter a coherent sentence, goes on about the size of the genitals of a famous golfer (or a fictional character from the movies) and frequently forgets that he’s running against Kamala Harris, not Joe Biden.
Sunday, October 20, 2024, a bloated and confused old man wandered into the McDonald’s in Featherville-Trevose, Pennsylvania (which was closed to actual customers), and insisted he worked there. He attempted to put a cook’s apron on, but he was too fat to tie it in the back and needed help. After playing along with him and letting him cook two batches of french fries – one of which he forgot to drain, and the other of which he oversalted – the staff finally managed to coax him into leaving. He was last seen wandering back and forth on a stage, babbling incoherently.
My Mom said I had to write something in this stupid blog, so here it is. Is that good enough for you, Mom? Is that good enough?
Jeez! OK, that’s it. I’m done. I’m outta here.
Hi, from all of us: Norm, Wendy, Judy, and Peter. We’re the Bloggersons, and we love to blog! We might blog about the dog, Freddie, or we might blog about the weird stuff that we found in the backyard. You never know! Just don’t pay too much attention to whatever it is that Judy and Peter have to say. They’re just kids, after all, and they’re liable to say one thing one day and a completely different thing the next. Oh… I hope they’re not reading this!
