The Secret Diary of Donald J Trump, aged 70 ¾
Every Day is V-Day When Vlad Telephones
21st November 2017. Who knew Niger, that country in Africa, was spelled with one ‘g’? Go figger; or, I guess, “Go figer”. I thought it was too good to be true, to have a country called Nigger that we could have said they came from. Sigh. Many people are saying being able to call them that would have opened up the debate in the way many fine people would have liked. Instead of how politically correct and closed it is now, with them “taking a knee” during the great American national anthem, and we can’t even call them what they are. Thought I had them there but that’s not the first time a slippery one has got away. Taking a knee, my ass! They should take a bullet!
But I’m in a great mood and can’t be bothered even by Nigers. Today’s the day he said he would call! One of the few real men left in the world leadership, men who can take off their shirts and look good. I look the best without a shirt. Nobody looks better than me without a shirt. But even Crooked Jealous Hillary would have to admit Vlad looks hot barebacked! If he wasn’t such a good friend, I’d take off my shirt, too, but he’d be so embarrassed to be so bony next to a real man. My chest is twice the size of his. Three times. My chest is bigger than anyone’s. My everything is bigger than everyone’s. Put together! You just can’t see it because my chest goes all the way to my navel. That’s not a belly! That’s my lower chest!