An Open Letter To Donald Trump — America’s Premier Racist Blowhard Capitalist Pig

The toupee'd orange one opens his racist Birther mouth again, and James Schlarmann has had enough.

Mr. Trump —

To borrow an overwrought phrase from an overwrought show that’s part of an overwrought genre that stars an overwrought pseudo-celebrity-slash-capitalistic opportunist:

You’re fired.

To enhance that phrase:

You’re fuckin’ fired; now shut the fuck up and go the fuck away forever.

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I know that even if you were to read this, your out-sized ego will prevent you from understanding that this isn’t just the ravings of an angry writer/comedian, but instead how literally every American feels. Wait, let me take that back. There are in fact some people stupid enough to actually vote for you. I call them the Herman Cain Wing of the Republican Party. You have to be either monumentally dumb or insanely apathetic about our country to put someone like you or Herman Cain in charge.

You just can’t shut up about the “birth certificate” can you? Over the weekend ABC’s Jonathan Karl gave you every opportunity to recant your past jaunts into racism and instead you just dug deeper. “Was there a birth certificate? You tell me. Some people say that was not his birth certificate. I’m saying I don’t know. Nobody knows.” I tell you what, Donald. You produce your original, long-form toupee maker’s invoice, and we’ll rustle up that Kenyan birth certificate you seem to think is hiding out there in there the ether somewhere. Deal?

You’re an opportunistic slug who lucked into his fortune by way of whose biological detritus from whence you came. Had you been born into the working class I have no doubt you’d be just another weird, bitter old white guy. You know how I know this? You won’t drop the Birther bullshit. Put that down as one more huge clue about life you still haven’t gotten. You’re awfully good at self-promotion, but other than that you are clearly as clueless as any of the ridiculous cast of morons the GOP trotted out last year. Oh wait, that’s right, you were one of them for a brief moment. Did you not learn the lesson the first time you were embarrassingly drummed out of the election once people realized, “Oh yeah, he’s just a toupee’d, loud-mouthed, racist, Plutocrat”?

Clearly not. Then again, someone who has bankrupted their own companies four times may not be the best example of “learning from your past mistakes,” right Donald? Oh, I forgot, you don’t even like to fess-up to those abysmal failures, do you? You just chalk it up to “business as usual.” But I wonder, how many of your paid employees would be able to just re-shuffle their debt that’s piled up as they tried to navigate the middle class? Don’t answer that Mr. Trump, we all know the answer.

You have to know that you stand even less of a chance of being elected than the epic tandem of dumbassery known as Sarah Palin and Michele Bachmann. At least those two worthless sacks of human material have somehow managed to make themselves look just smart enough to be elected once or twice in their careers. No one has ever willingly selected you to do anything except represent yourself as orangutan with a fat wallet. To put it bluntly — not that many people actually like you Mr. Trump.

Believe it not, you actually do have to be somewhat likable to win a presidential election. Contrary to what some on the right may be saying right now, the problem hasn’t been that Republicans haven’t nominated a true conservative in a long time, it’s that they haven’t nominated someone that the electorate really likes. They’ve been counting on the hatred of the Democratic president or nominee to carry them, but as it turns out the electorate isn’t falling for it. Sure, there are any number of complaints you could make about the Democrats in Congress. They are after all one-half of the most useless gaggle of dipshits in a long, long time to sit on the Hill. But for the last twenty years, America’s demographics have been shifting in such a way that the policies the GOP stands for just make them look old, angry, bitter and scared.

Or to put it another way: Like you, Donald.

I miss the old Donald Trump. The one that was an annoying, loud-mouthed, misogynistic asshole that at least knew his place in society. You should be really embarrassed for yourself. Deep-down you know you’re not serious about any of this stuff. The truly sad part is that I don’t know if you’re really a racist or are just embracing all the racist birther stuff to keep a toe-hold on all the bitter, old, white voters. I don’t know what’s better for my opinion of you — that you’re a real racist or that you cynically play one on TV. Oh, I can’t decide, so let’s just say there’s literally nothing you could do short of sewing up your mouth and having your vocal chords removed to improve my view of you.

Just go away, Donald. Get it all out of your system right now. For what it’s worth, I don’t care if you spend the next three years teasing a presidential run; this is the last bit of cyber-space I’m devoting to your political aspirations, because you’re not worth the virtual ink. You’re just one more vile person that history will judge as a laughing-stock — an attention whore with way too much time and money on his hands, and there are plenty of those people already in office for me to write about. I don’t need a politico-wannabe clogging up the works too, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

Now go marry another woman who’d much rather lick the back of a stamp made of dog shit than spend five minutes for you if it weren’t for the size of your…bank account.



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Trump is nothing more than a self-aggrandizing loudmouth. He always was. Back when he “saved” the Commodore Hotel in NYC as a razzle-dazzle developer, his reputation for getting the job done enabled him to step into the flap over the reconstruction of Central Park’s Wollman Rink. What took the City of New York years to accomplish and could never complete, Trump got it done and over with in 3 months. This feat firmly established the Trump mystique for all things impossible. Apparently, 30 years of this BS adulation (despite bankruptcies and reorganizations and epic fails like Atlantic City’s Taj Mahal) gave him a colossal ego and now thinks he needs to stay relevant every 10 minutes with these ludicrous sound bites. He should take a cue from Harry Helmsley and marry (again) a Leona and work from the background, the little putz. As for his do, pull up a picture of his mom and you’ll see where the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.