Reality Bites
May 14, 2024
Defendant Trump squeezed in a demented rant-filled rally in
Wildwood, New Jersey in between days sleeping in court. Thousands of mentally
defective supporters joined the repeatedly-indicted defendant/candidate who
dribbled out the usual lies, complete gibberish and dementia and/or syphilis
tainted lunacy like
“The late great Hannibal Lecter. He's a wonderful man...But
Hannibal Lecter. Congratulations. The late great Hannibal Lecter.”
Trump has mentioned Lecter in the past. No one knows exactly
why, but Trump seemed to think Hannibal Lecter is a real person. Maybe he
brought Lecter up this time as a dumfounding non sequitur just to show he now
knows this is a fictitious character. Who the fuck knows what is happening
beneath that synthetic cotton candy atop his depleted dome?
Hannibal Lecter could not be reached for comment. Because he’s
a fucking fictitious character. Many people are saying Lecter would be very
fond of the semi-fictitious Donald Trump…with some fava beans and a nice
chianti.
The Deadbeat Goes On
By the way, the city of Wildwood required Donny Deadbeat to
pay up front since the last time he brought his poisonous posse to town, he
stiffed them. It’s not cheap allowing the former sociopath-in-chief show up in
your city. Besides the cost of security and presumably massive clean-up after
thousands of inconsiderate, anti-environment slobs do their business and walk
away.
After his Wildwood bund rally, Trump returned to court for
the long-awaited testimony of his former lawyer/fixer Michael Cohen, who
already did time for aiding and abetting the person referred to in Cohen’s
trial as “Individual One,” known to everyone else as Donald J. Trump. So, the
guy who carried out the criminal orders went to jail while the person who gave
the criminal orders continues to waddle among us, a free man.
After the hissy-fit above, Trump returned to the courtroom
defense table to resume napping while prosecution witness Michael Cohen
proceeded to bury Trump alive.
Good night, sweet putz, and flights of assholes sing thee to thy rest. And make it quick will ya.
I. Mangrey.
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