I haven’t read Donald Trump Jr.’s new book, Daddy, Look at Me!, but I imagine it’s loaded with a Trumpload of sophistry, casuistry, and garden-variety fucknuttery.
Of course, I’m not the target demographic. The target demographic is the Republican National Committee, which bought $94,800 worth of the books, presumably to give it a nudge to the top of the New York Times best-seller list. I assume they’ll hand the books out to Trump supporters, who will drowsily page through them until the pages drown in nap drool — before ultimately filling three-quarters of a Goodwill bargain bin near you.
So you can see his dilemma. He wants this book to stay on the best-seller list, but even he surely understands his fans aren’t voracious readers. So what to do? Oh, I know! Spread the word by encouraging rancor and turmoil on this national day of gratitude and togetherness! There’s your solution!
Okay, very funny, Jr. Of course, the irony here is thick, given that his father is essentially a hunk of unexploded ordnance languidly floating in Kroger jellied cranberry sauce.
But, sure. Go ahead and “trigger” a liberal. You’ll likely get a photo of someone calmly explaining separation of powers to a Keystone Light-besotted oaf who doesn’t understand the Constitution. Maybe you can Photoshop it.
Should be fun.
Does Trump make you want to delete your brain? Of course he does! But don’t do it until you’ve read Dear Fcking Lunatic: 101 Obscenely Rude Letters to Donald Trump and its breathlessly awaited sequel Dear Fcking Moron: 101 More Letters to Donald Trump by Aldous J. Pennyfarthing. Reviewers have called these books “hysterically funny,” “cathartic,” and “laugh-out-loud” diversions from our temporary hell on Earth. Don’t delay. Click those links, yo!