Here’s proof that no matter what kind of outlandish satirical reality you manage to concoct, Donald Trump will call your bleach injection and raise you a flashlight up your ass.
On March 25, America’s Finest News Source, The Onion, ran an article with the headline “Man Just Buying One Of Every Cleaning Product In Case Trump Announces It’s Coronavirus Cure.”
Consensus reality: “Oh, how absurd. You’ve done it again, Onion!”
MAGA-land: “Hold my beer.”
An excerpt:
EVANSTON, WY—Throwing bottles of bleach, ammonia, and Drano into a cart at his local grocery store, area man Troy Mitchell was reportedly stocking up on one of every cleaning product he could find Wednesday in case President Donald Trump announces it is a coronavirus cure. “I got toilet bowl cleaner, carpet cleaner, Swiffer WetJet refills—you name it—just so me and my family will be ready if the president announces one of these things can treat Chinese virus,” said Mitchell, indiscriminately throwing containers of laundry detergent, Scrubbing Bubbles, grout whitener, steel wool, Febreze, Tilex mold and mildew remover, and laptop screen wipes into the cart, the contents of which rang up to $2,513.67 at checkout.
So there you have it. Donald Trump and outrageous satire have long since converged into a gravitational singularity, but I don’t think The Onion has ever been quite this prescient.
They may need a supercomputer to run scenarios that Trump’s brain couldn’t possibly come up with. Otherwise, what’s the point of satire?
Is Trump still chafing your arse-cheeks? Then Dear Fcking Lunatic: 101 Obscenely Rude Letters to Donald Trump and its boffo sequels Dear Prsident A**clown: 101 More Rude Letters to Donald Trump and Dear F*cking Moron: 101 More Letters to Donald Trump by Aldous J. Pennyfarthing are the pick-me-up you need! Reviewers have called these books “hysterically funny,” “cathartic,” and “laugh-out-loud” comic relief. And they’re way, way cheaper than therapy.
