Thank you, Donald Trump

You are being most helpful at this moment in history

Thank you, Mr. Trump, for continuing to speak.

When confronted with your own words in front of the National Association of Black Journalists annual convention, you responded in the most honestly Trumpian way: whiny, aggrieved and dodgy. You refused to answer questions directly and tried to insult moderator Rachel Scott and the organization you were speaking to. Rational thinkers would discourage such self-owning rhetoric, but you threw out your cash and doubled down again and again. Thank you for pantsing yourself and showing your ass to the world.

Thank you for making your racist, misogynistic, un-Christian beliefs so acutely in focus as Americans prepare to go to the polls. Thank you for reaching for the interviewer’s water bottle and failing to open it, demonstrating once again your debilitating, aged physical weakness, in addition to your intellectual, moral and egotistical softness. You delight us by your inability to change, yet constantly surprise in how low you can go. We are awestruck.

Thank you, Mr. Trump for selecting J.D. Vance to be your running mate.

Tapping this gutless, hypocritical, shape-shifting, name-changing, charisma-less shillbilly to be your attack dog was a masterstroke in highlighting your Trump-brand leadership style. Instead of choosing a running mate that can complement your many manifest weaknesses, you chose a ghost who merely compliments you to your face. It worked for Kim Jong Un and other patently diabolical despots you admire, so you made yourself easy pickings for the likes of J.D. Vance (current name). Thank you for making the path to earn your temporary admiration so easily achieved by all the conmen, grifters and other Trumps that cannot wait to orbit your orangeness. It is truly a joy to watch you turn on them and they on you.

Vance, if that is his real name, is a net negative favorability rating in midwestern human form. You could have picked a running mate that would tilt the electoral college in your favor, but no. You took the mini-you from Ohio, an already red state. Thank you so, so much, Don Snoreleone. We are ever so grateful for your stable genius.

Thank you for aggressively criticizing the nation’s greatest feel-good moment of the year: The safe return of Wall Street Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich, former U.S. Marine Paul Whelan, Russian-American journalist Alsu Kurmasheva and others in the historic prisoner swap. Your cheap, childish, chapped-ass snide remarks demonstrate just how little you are, despite all the ice cream and cheeseburgers you stuff in your lie-hole. We are eternally grateful for the belly-laughs you provided by asserting that you could have done it better, even though you did nothing while you temporarily held the office of U.S. President.

Thank you for continuing to show just how intellectually deprived you are by kvetching, whining and TRUTHing about the perceived value of the prisoners swapped. While even the merest of history observers know that Vladimir Putin and his Russian enablers have, for decades, illegally and ruthlessly captured foreigners for the express purpose of trading them for errant, lost Russian killers caught up in far-away countries, you let the world know that you cannot grasp this fact like a little girl demanding a pink pony. By criticizing the U.S. hold to out for a better deal, you make it clear just how unfit you remain for international diplomacy, spycraft or decision-making of any kind. The world knows your daddy, Putin, will not stop. But you … oh, you, our mango Magilla, our Fatgolf Shitler, our diaper Don, want to stamp your feet and cry out. All the while, not offering a single word of welcome or gratitude (have an adult explain that word to you) for the safe return of these heroic victims of your pal Putin’s treachery. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for repeating your true nature so vividly.

Thank you for being a transparent pussy. Your nonsensical “reasoning” for dodging your scheduled debate with Vice President Kamala Harris on Sept. 10 is hilarious in the extreme. Your palpable fear of the unstoppable ass-kicking you know you will receive is delicious. Your cowardice has placed your house-of-cards ego in a no-win situation: Show up and get eaten alive or don’t show, cede the time and spotlight to your vanquishing opponent and get pilloried for your Trump-brand weakness.

For these gifts, we are in your debt. Not to the extent Rudy Giuliani is in debt (all thanks to you!), but in debt in the sense that your failures tickle our hearts and delight our senses. We gratefully acknowledge these gifts and look forward to many more … right up until you are sent packing by the American people on Tuesday, November 5, 2024⁩.

Yours,

A grateful nation