It all started one evening as Donald was enjoying his nice cup of covfefe with his hamberder as he pondered foreign policy. The combat infantroopens blew up the revolutionary war airports so he was in quite a pickle. He wondered if injecting bleach would help, but then decided that would not get him the Nobel Preace Prize - or the Noble one either. He thought about contacting Frederick Douglas, after hearing about all the great things he had done but that would be unpresidented and would certainly upset the Slock Market. Without a smocking gun we was unsure of exactly what to do. The anolymous source said Tim Apple had nothing to do with it, nor the Prince of Whales. He just knew that he himself bore no responsibility at all. If only China hadn't put a curse on the Unidah Shayes! Jared had even told him it was in the manifesto. If only they would take a look at the manifesto! But the surburban women... they didn't like him, no matter how much he asked.
As a private business people, Donald Prump had never had to deal with such issues. Truly, not in the mouth but in actual fact. But after Obama tapped his phone it was all down hill from there. He couldn't even get them to rake the forests to stop the trees from exploding. Talk about herd mentality. From the Colorado Wall to the Tallahassee Trail, he had done his best. Even the Kansas City Chiefs in Kansas could not have done more. Who knew nuking the hurricanes could have caused so many problems? It's not like the Magic Sharpie had warned him. If only he could go back to the cushy interview where he could talk about dating his hot daughter Ivanka. They had a lot in common, sex included.
It was 3am and Donald had sent out his last post for the day, just over 300 - a new personal best. He set aside the daily briefing that he never quite got to and said his prayers - two corinthians - before falling into a restful sleep.
OK, you win the internet for the month.


