DONALD “IS MY BOND IN THE POND?” TRUMP

Who Shat in My Hat? … or … Are the Funds Up My Bum?

A Dr. Seuss-style story about the Malignant Mango’s bond

We all know Agent Orange is in a bind over his bond.

We also all know that he’s rapidly slipping into a demented state approaching his second childhood. In fact, many of his behaviors indicate that he’s already arrived.

With all this in mind, I thought it would be fitting to tell a childlike Seuss-ian story from the Failed Yam Casserole’s point of view about his search for funds to cover his half-a-billion or so bond now due.

I do not have a bond I can not find it in a pond

Nor from friends of whom I’m fond Or from women demimonde

I have looked everywhere I even asked a bear

Then I went off on a tear And checked my underwear

It was not there Or even anywhere

No one will back this fool Or say that I am cool

I’ll maybe have to sell a jewel Or beg a Moscow mule

But I’m a crafty fella I’ll sing out a capella

And say some zany stuff Out my chest I’ll puff

Like a cuckoo bird That makes a sound absurd

Or a rotten orange fruit Or a big old stinky toot

I’ll sell some golden sneaks To the circus of my freaks

That’ll raise some funds To help me save my buns

In my quest to find some chedda Maybe I’ll act a little betta

But that will never do Cuz I like to smell like poo

Would it be a reach If I sold Trump-flavored bleach?

Or an orange-flavored drink From that would too many shrink?

I’ll make it from my sweat To sell, to help me with my debt

My faithful hordes will buy it Try, try, I’ll think I’ll try it

I love my MAGAt morons They love my face so bronze

That’s it, that’s it! THAT’S IT! I’ll sell that bronzing shit

My peeps will snap it up They’ll lap, lap, lap it up

The sales will save my ass Don’t think I’m awful crass

When half the country has Faces the color of pale brass

That’s how I’ll fund my bond No need to fish in a pond

Trick those of whom I’m fond Then I’ll go grab some blonde