The Don is just so annoyed by the inconvenience of the bombs and the killing of Jews as he is desperate to resume his role as “White Nationalist-in Chief!”
The Don is pissed that he can’t replace all Republican candidates on the ballot box!
Slimafort trades $10,000 suits for prison pinstripes.
The Don is already minting Nobel Peace Prize Commemorative Coins. If he doesn’t win, it is rigged!
The Don’s cronies’ deceptive money passes may make them the newest prison basketball team.
Mueller lays the perjury trap.
The foxes are in the White House as state run TV Fox News moves in.
Is there anyone in the The Don’s administration not making money?
With Hope Hicks gone, who will steam The Don’s suits?
Who is Manafort more afraid of: Robert Mueller or Russian mobster Oleg Deripaska?
Despite The Don’s gift for distraction, Russia is still coming!
Nunes is so far up The Don’s ass that he has become his tongue!
Mueller is just thrilled to meet with Bannon. “He’s so cute without the beard” says the special prosecutor!
As Republicans attempt to comb over the Russia investigation The Don is heading for a C.O.M.A
The Don’s disastrous year: A-Z, in verse.
As Mueller closes in, The Don puts the F.B.I. on U.S list of terrorism organizations.
Hugging Trump too tight proves lethal on Election Day.
25 reasons why America needs the 25th Amendment invoked!
Mike Flynn likes his pizza with caviar.
Two peas in a pod, or maybe more accurately: two pees in a pod. You know: golden showers…pissing all over the truth and the country–that kind of stuff.
In Marvin Gay’s moving song titled “Trouble Man”, he croons mournfully: “There’s only one thing for sure, death, taxes and trouble.” Lately, staffers at the
Trump is scared of Mueller, so he moves west wing to West Virginia.
The Scaramouche becomes captain of The White House Lying Team
Don Jr. and Jared are in a pickle.
If you recall, I went dark two weeks ago in pursuit of intel hoping to provide damning evidence to the special prosecutor, Robert Mueller. Unfortunately,
Oh Jared, Jared, Jared! Isn’t it insulting that people think that you must be either totally naive or absolutely bat shit crazy to propose using
Russia, Russia, Mother Russia. When you put the Mother in front of it, she seems so benign-the magic of Moscow’s baroque architecture with its sherbert
No chronicler of The Don’s “Administration of Dunces” could claim any gravitas without weighing in on his first 100 days, so here goes. The first
Me and Bibi and are like bros, kibbutzniks. Not as solid as Putie and me, but pretty tight; and boy I am glad he is