“You Will Presidentify Me, Or You’re Fired” By Donald Trump

Donald Trump tells Americans why he WILL be president, or there WILL be consequences.

From high atop his palatial penthouse, The World’s Greatest and Most Successful Business Tycoon, Donald Trump, has officially announced his candidacy for President of the United States of America in the upcoming 2016 presidential election. Trump will be seeking the Republican Party’s nomination, and it has already been reported that half of the nation’s political comedians already have literally died from over-excitement following Trump’s announcement.

The Political Garbage Chute, in its never-ending quest to bring you the information straight from the horse’s ass’s mouth reached out to Mr. Trump’s campaign staff and asked them to pass along a writing essay prompt to Donald. We have already gotten responses to this same essay question from Ted Cruz, Jeb Bush, Sarah Palin, and Scott Walker to name just a few. The prompt is a simple question, but one that every voter would like to ask every candidate who has the hubris to ask for the most powerful position in the free world to be his or hers alone.

What follows is the essay furnished to us from the Trump 2016 campaign. Our prompt read “Why I Should Be President,” but Trump took some liberties with the prompt, starting with the title.

“You Will Presidentify Me, Or You’re Fired”
By Donald Trump

Hey America! I’m Donald Fuckin’ Trump, and you losers better listen up. I am going to be your next president. Yeah, sure, I could come out in this essay and kiss your asses and tell you I really “want” your vote and that I’ll do everything in my power to “earn it,” but did you miss the part where I said I’m Donald Fuckin’ Trump? I haven’t earned a goddamned thing in my life. Do you have any idea where my vast fortune came from, despite any intimations I may make about finding some magical bootstraps to pull myself up with?

Inheritance. That’s right. Inheritance. I was handed the money with which I have built my financial empire. The good fortune of the balls from whence I came is what made me rich. So if you think for two measly seconds I’m gonna come out and start being nice, and asking for shit, you don’t know Donald Fuckin’ Trump. But you will know Donald Fuckin’ Trump when I become your president, jerkies. And speaking of which, let me just give you a quick preview of what you can expect from a President Donald Fuckin’ Trump administration.

First of all — get used to hypocrisy. I have so piss-poorly managed my business empire that I’ve had to file for bankruptcy four times at least. One might think that’d mean I would be reticent to give anyone — rich, poor or otherwise — financial advice, much less act like I know how to be a good businessman and handle money. If you think that — you’re fired from America once I become president, Bub. Being a hypocritical douchebag when it comes to talking down to poor people is just a Republican thing. Look at Marco Rubio. Dude has some serious issues keeping his own personal finances straight, and yet he thinks he should be able to tell welfare recipients they aren’t working hard enough and that they don’t know how to manage their own finances.

Second of all — get used to my loud, shrieking bouts of spouting utter nonsense. Remember, I have been hinting at having the real goods on Obama’s actual birth certificate for years. I am more capable than you could imagine when it comes to saying really stupid stuff. Let’s face it, Sarah Palin and I are quite chummy with each other. So can you really be all that shocked or surprised when something truly and amazingly dumb trips from my lips into your ears? Don’t you miss the amazingness that was having a dumb president in the White House, less than eight years ago? Let’s return dumb to where it belongs — The Oval Office.

Third of all — I will be your president. You will make me your president. Why? For starters — because I fuckin’ told you to, that’s why. I mean, hello? I’m Donald Fuckin’ Trump, remember? And if I say I want something, I get it. No matter what. Secondly, if you don’t make me your president, I will fire every single last one of you from America. How is that possible, you ask? I am not your employer, you say. Tough shit, pal. You messed with Donald Fuckin’ Trump, and Donald Fuckin’ Trump gets his way, period. End of life.

Now, some of you may be worried about a President Donald Fuckin’ Trump scenario. And believe me, if I weren’t Donald Fuckin’ Trump myself, I’d look at my past actions, my abysmal failures in business and in my personal life, and I’d see the bloviating and pompous wind breaking disguised as intellectual thought I’ve been passing off for the last, well, forever, and I’d be tempted to not vote for me. But trust me when I say that I will treat the presidency withe same regard and respect I have treated all my many businesses and wives.

In other words, I’ll eventually get bored with it, let the quality of my effort slip, and then quit, of course.

So come November 2016, vote for Trump/Palin 2016. Not because you want to. Not because you think you should. But because you have to, or you’re fired. So sayeth me, Donald Fuckin’ Trump.



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