One Sick Fuck. (You Know Who I Mean)
Years from now people will stumble across this comic and go "What the fucking-fuck is THIS all about?"
They will not believe that an actual human, or whatever Trump is, spoke such drivel about a common pain reliever.
Yes, these are the very words of Trump about Tylenol but reworded for his "benefit".
So, future people, we don't know WTF, either, except you can be assured there was some sort of blackmailish quid pro quo by this corrupt president aimed squarely at the heart of Kenvue, the pharmaceutical company that makes Tylenol.
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How would Trump probably plan his memorial?
Fireworks, a parade of tanks, a squadron of military aircraft zooming overhead, every Miss Teen USA from the past twenty years, topless, tossing flowers at the feet of the horses towing his open casket, the 24 carat coffin bedecked with strobing LEDs advertising his crypto-currency, a ritual sacrifice of Democratic party leaders, a battalion of army soldiers firing full clips of their M4A1 carbines into the air while singing "Macho Man", a Snoopy balloon, lines of male mourners all wearing golden diapers and large white bandages on their right ears, all female mourners in handmaiden dress, a creche outside the Capitol building featuring Trump as the Christ child, Roy Cohn as Joseph, and Ivanka as Mary, and what might or might not be effigies of late night TV comedians hanging by their feet from lamp-posts, all broadcast live and sponsored by McDonald's, Exxon, Lockheed Martin and Goya beans.
You know... something tasteful.
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Dear Orange Creature Squatting Behind the Resolute Desk;
There will eventually come a day when you have departed this mortal coil and we will not be able to erase your dog-shit attempt at authoritarianism from the soles our our democratic shoes fast enough.
Sincerely,
Most Americans.
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Hah! Betcha didn't think I'd have a 'toon done today, Wednesday, considering the funk I was in on Monday. So neener-neener, you lovely pencil-necks.
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Lefty
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