Trump Rips Farm Animals, Touts Tariff-Winning Farmers in Very Important Letter

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Saturday, August 17, 2019, 4:54 a.m.

Dear Americans Who Listen Exclusively to Me and Nobody Else,

I am very, very sorry for you that you have not been able to read a Very Important Letter from me to you for some time now — many, many weeks actually. All you have been able to do is listen to me incessantly, and literally everywhere, which normally would be far more than enough, but is not nearly enough for people like you who can’t hear from me enough. So you are welcome for me allowing you to hear more from me enough.

As you know, I have been terrifically busy doing more than enough to make sure everybody who deserves something gets it — if you know what I mean … And if you don’t, you don’t deserve to know what you deserve or I deserve to give you, or what I mean about deserving what I mean in the first place. I just want to say I mean that, so you are welcome for me explaining it to you. You deserve it.

Before hitting the golf course this morning, I just want to say that I hope China has learned its lesson about messing with me and my tremendous tariffs. Right now they are paying for another tariff as I type this Very Important Letter. They are paying for so many tariffs, that I am getting tired from collecting all their tariffs. So because I need a break from tariff-collecting, I am going do a terrifically nice thing that no other president has ever done in the history of our empire regarding tariffs:

I am going to use my Executive’s privileges and won’t be collecting any more tariffs on the Chinese until after the holidays!! I am doing this mostly so our fantastic, hard-working farmers have a great and holy Christmas with their families and their sheep and their chickens and all the other disgusting, smelly animals on their farms.

You’re welcome.

So shop, shop, shop, farmers! Do your part to make America great! I know there must be overalls and rakes and hoes and things that you have been just dying to get your sweaty, dirty hands on. Speaking of sweaty, dirty hands, maybe even buy your wife a new dress that she can try to squeeze into and wear to a square dance when she is not hanging the laundry on a rope, milking your cows and cleaning your stables. She deserves it. And trust me, I know what most women deserve, folks, even farm women.

We once visited a farm in Long Island when I was a kid. My father, Fred, wanted to buy it and build a warehouse to store all the furniture he couldn’t get rid of after throwing the poor, lazy people out of the rat-infested houses he rented to them in Brooklyn.

Anyway, while I was busy running away from all the animals, a farm girl tackled me from behind and gave me something I’ll never forget, even if I can’t remember what it was. Whatever it was, though, it made quite an impression and I haven’t been back to a farm since. I think about that girl often, and how fast she could run. She ran like a goddam race horse and packed quite a wallop. And then there are all the scary animals on these farms. I never knew goats could be so mean. Why are they so mean? They are also surprisingly fast. One of them tackled me, too, or was that the girl … ? Wait. Oh no, I’ve just had an awful thought …

Anyway, I digest.

Everything is faster on a farm than you’d expect. All I know is, I didn’t stop running the whole time I was there. Helluva place those farms … But you farmers have my respect. If it weren’t for the animals chasing me around all day and the crazy girls and the pastures and the fields and the smells and the silos, I could learn to like them. But I won’t.

And even if farms have been very, very mean to me, you are welcome in advance for me giving you an early Christmas present. But please remember to thank me when we get closer to the holiday. That’s very important to me. Just thank me from a distance. You’re welcome. And good luck with the weather.

And speaking of Christmas, I want to talk about Israel and the great job they did keeping those awful, anti-American congresswomen out of their country. I actually think I might have outsmarted myself on that one, though, because I just should have let them go and then not let them back in. So, Bibi, if you are listening please consider accepting those terrible, disgusting women into your country. I won’t forget it and will even give you the exclusive penthouse at Mar-a-Lago when you and your wife, whatever her name is, visit me next time. Or you can just leave your wife at home and we can visit Jeffrey’s old pad. He won’t be needing it any longer.

And if you are ever thinking about coming to Florida, folks, don’t forget that Mar-a-Lago is home to the fattest steaks and skinniest broads on the planet.  We are running a special right now, in fact. Buy four memberships and get the fifth one for free. We are even giving away ultra-white, wet T-shirts signed by Stephen Miller with every new membership. But this offer won’t last long, so act now!

But getting back to the business of being president, I also want to say how great it is to get out into the countryside, scream at the Democrats and basically scare the hell out of immigrants during my fabulously attended rallies. They mean a lot to me.

Do you know people were actually camping out without tents and frying pans in New Hampshire to hear my important speech on Thursday? Think about that, folks. Think about what kind of great lives these people are living that they can line up for days on end just to hear my speech. It gives me great honor to know that I am helping them out and giving them shiny, beautiful things they can believe in.

In closing … I’d like to recite my favorite verse in the Bible:

Oh holy Romans, how art though dealing with thy many sheep in ye kingdom. For they come not in peace but in anger. Put down thy frankensense on mirr and deal with thy sheep!

I always loved that one. Sheep got far too much credit in the olden days.

And please, in addition to worshiping the ground in which I trod, please remember to donate here, because money talks and filthy animals walk.

You are welcome again,

Donald J. Trump

Written By


Lived everywhere. Started in Africa, then to America, then to Europe, then ... back to America, which lately seems to pride itself in going back. Almost made it 30 years in print journalism, before it all went bad. Really? Don’t think things are bad, eh? Who’s your new president, pal? How did that happen? Because it all went bad.

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