THE WHITE HOUSE
Thursday, December 21, 2:49 a.m.
Dear Santy Claws:
First, I want to make it crystal-clear right from the start of this historic letter to you, I don’t want anything. I know this must be a tremendous and terrific relief to you, because people only write you because they want things. I hate people like this, and I’m sure you do, too. “I want this, I want that. Waaaah, waaah …” They are just a bunch of needy children.
I deal with people like this all the time. We share that in common. This is the only reason I hate being president, because everybody wants something all the time.
I already have everything, as you know. Besides I don’t need anymore coal, so thank you for bringing me all of it over the years. No matter what mansion I was living in you always made sure to dump as much coal as you could into the industrial-sized sack I hung by my chimney with a six-ton crane and a terrific, terrific amount of care. You know, if Kentucky got all the coal I got I wouldn’t have to worry about shoving their people back in the coal mines so they can have all those great and wonderful jobs. But people in Kentucky aren’t as lucky as me, and have to crawl into caves and dig out their coal. You just literally dumped it all over me.
You used to give me so much coal, my father, Fred, used to say, “Donny, I have to say, it’s pretty, damn clear what Santa thinks about you.” Well, as you can imagine, Santy, that has always meant a lot to me.
And none of the other kids at boarding school got near as much coal as me, so I was always very proud of that. Some of them didn’t get any coal, like my youngest son … er, um, what’s-his-name. I guess I understand, because you don’t like him as much as me. But let’s just keep that our secret. He’s already pretty depressed all the time, and for the life of me I don’t why. Every time he visits from Trump Tower he seems pretty miserable. Sad!
He obviously doesn’t understand all the unbelievable, terrific pressure I am under each day watching CNN, Fox and Friends, and Mika while tweeting at the same time. I wonder sometimes if President Franklin was under this much pressure, and if he had any unhappy kids bothering him all the time at the White House. I think about this a lot, because as you know I am a massive student of history. You don’t finish first in your class, by not wondering about important things all the time.
But enough about little what’s-his-name. Hopefully his mother will start doing a better job with him. I hope so, anyway, because someday he will take over the family fortune and I want him to be happy about that, not sad.
The reason I am writing you this important Christmas letter is because I need somebody to vent to. Even though I have sky-high, through-the-roof approval ratings, people don’t love me as much as they need to. And the lying stinking, fake, disgusting, awful, miserable, rotten, gross, moronic media are really, really, really on my nerves. How dare they sit around reporting everything and talking about me all the time. Don’t they have anything else to do?!
You know, I thought when I single-handedly passed the most terrific, momentous tax bill ever there would be a parade waiting for me. Instead the Republicans just came over to Rose’s Garden and just kept saying terrific things about me, as they should. But where was the parade??? I don’t think that is asking a lot, Santy. And I passed that bill without a single, stupid, moronic, jack-assed Democrat voting for it. Not one! No president has ever done that before. I heard Jefferson tried it once, but failed miserably in disgrace. It’s a miracle he won a fourth term after that.
I am about at the end of my rope with not being appreciated. I do everything for everybody, and all I hear about is healthcare and stupid immigrants and hungry animals, and whiny women who hate being touched. And Russia! RUSSIA!!! I have had nothing to do with Russia! I will say it one more time, s-l-o-w-l-y:
- Donny Jr. wanted to adopt a Russian kid and ran over to our Tower to meet some Russians.
- They were all out of kids, so he broke up the meeting.
- He called Hope Hicks while we were on the way to The Overseas in my giant airplane.
- He told her to tell me they ran out of kids for adoption.
- So I just went back to getting ready to meet all the leaders in The Overseas. I wasn’t even that mad I couldn’t have a Russian kid, even though I’d be left with the one who mopes around the house and gets on my nerves all the time
Okay???? That’s it!
Oh sure I like Putin, but who wouldn’t? Well, I’ll tell you who wouldn’t, whiny, snowflake liberals, who don’t understand what a strong, handsome, smart, cunning, charming leader he is. They should be so lucky as to have Putin leading them. But they have something almost as good. Still they cry about it.
You know, Santy, after I fire Robert Mueller, I wonder, if maybe I don’t have to destroy North Korea so everybody will really love me the way they are supposed to. This is just between the two of us for now, but it makes a lot of sense.
If Lincoln hadn’t been shot at the movies, I am told he was thinking strongly about taking out North Korea, so everybody would forget about the Revolutionary War. I wish he had, because I wouldn’t have to worry about them. But now we have nukes, so really this would be pretty easy and a good thing for the rest of the world. Then maybe I would get the parade I deserve and all people would love me the way they are supposed to. Not just the people who show up at my rallies and shriek their love and abiding faith to me.
Please let me know what you think about this terrific idea. Maybe you can just leave your response in my Christmas sack by the chimney.
Thank you for loving me the way everybody should and my best to Mrs. Santy Claws and all your reindeers and elfs.