By Doug Magill
Dang it, I never did get the hang of using these dumbass things.
Computers are for little people – I prefer the voice-activated conveniences of power. When I yell for a minion, someone comes and adjusts whatever thingy I need to change. Especially TVs, I hate trying to figure out remotes. After all, that’s what my worshipping followers are here for. Now, if I could get them to wear those cute yellow outfits with the goggles….
My neurologist – that nitwit – thinks I need to do more mental exercises in case my brain was scrambled with that last stroke so he suggested I write stuff. Who cares? My scrambled brain is better than the unbroken ones of the yokels who adore me. See – yolks – a joke! I’ve still got it. Oh, I said yokels and meant yolks. How do I change that? Oh hell, Cheryl never seems to be around when I need her. Someone will fix it for me later. Someone always does.
What the heck? I have to get a new TV. Who knew a shoe could break one? My arm is still good. Ha, lots of practice throwing pottery at Bill. Too bad he didn’t get brain damage from all the earthenware I’ve bounced off that horny little skull. The stupid TV kept showing clips of my comments about that basket of deplorables. What’s the difference? I thought the basket thing was a nice touch, you know – a place for towels and kittens (disgusting creatures).
Besides, I meant to say basket of deportables. I mean, Trump Top wants to get rid of all of the illegal aliens – good little future Democrat voters. Did I say little? I mean dependable. Same thing.
Anyway, if he wants to get rid of our little brown brothers (crap, I said little again – must be the medication). So why can’t I say I want to get rid of those pathetic morons who think that more Democrats is a bad idea? Put all those Bible-loving gun-carrying freaks in a boxcar and ship them out of here. Let Mexico deal with them. Hah, then who’d want to build a wall?
Speaking of walls a couple of my mansions need better fences – mostly to keep the bimbos out if I get elected. Bubba boy will be partying his little deplorables off and I can’t stand coming home and throwing out lingerie that’s lying about. If only they knew. Well, maybe some of the clones at CNN do, they figure they’ll get in on the action if they keep hiding Bill’s bacchanalian blowouts – as if I didn’t know how to hire private eyes.
Been doing that since Little Rock.
Oohh….alliteration. “Bill’s bacchanalian blowouts.” Stroke, shmoke. Love it. And they say I’m a wooden speaker. Speaking of wood, haven’t been laying it down for a while. Gotta get this weight off. To think, that mousy little writer from Powerline called me a “muffin- top of mendacity.” Gotta talk to the boys. What’s power if you can’t use it? We’ll see how many pieces we can make her pedestrian car explode into.
What was I saying? Oh yeah, blasted adorables. That’s what I meant to say. I mean, aren’t those fanatical, hairy beer bums that like Trump just cute? Cute like in spiders that need to be squashed. I know that’s what I meant. I love everyone, even snakes.
Ooh, gotta go, Huma is coming with those funny green pills she keeps making me take before she puts on those weird Accepting the Koran tapes. I always fall asleep anyway. Maybe I can get her to get another keyboard too, this drooling thing gets really messy, especially with the H key in the middle when I want to keep typing all the wonderful things that start with H….
Doug Magill is a communications consultant, city councilman, voice-over talent and freelance writer. He can be reached at Doug@MagillMedia.net