Trump's. Nuts. Roasting. On. An Open. Fire. A Christmas Music Post!

Take THAT, Trump.
If you know us for personal, you know that we love Fiona Apple very much. And that is why we're happy to show you a Christmas present Fiona made for you, and for us, and for Donald Trump. You see, she changed the words to "The Christmas Song" AKA "Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire." Instead of CHESTnuts, it is Trump's nuts! Here, have a listen, lyrics after the jump:
Trump's nuts roasting on an open fireas he keeps nipping at his foes.
you'll cry creepy uncle
every time he arrives
for he keeps clawing at your clothes
everybody knows some money and entitlement
can help to make the season white
mothers of color with their kids out of sight
will find it hard to sleep at night.
They know that truuump is on his way.
he's got black boys in hoodies locked up on his sleigh
and every working man is going to cry
when they learn that Letch don't care how you live or if you die
Sooo I'm offering this simple phrase
to kids from 1 to 92
although it's been said many times, many ways
Merry Christmas to you
Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas
Donald Trump, fuck you
Paper Magazine says Trump "HAD BETTER NOT" tweet about Fiona Apple, and we'd agree.
The wingnut website Newsbusters is having a shitfit explosion all over the ugly Christmas sweater its Nana knitted for it, giving it a "language warning," calling it "vulgar," and just generally being like "OH MY STARS!" It also offers the Nat King Cole version as a "palate cleanser." We'll include the Nat King Cole version too, because we're feeling Christmassy:
The point of this post is that Donald Trump is so fucking screwed, and the artists of America will make sure of it.
Want more Fiona Apple? Here are our two favorite covers she ever did, "Pure Imagination" from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory, and Elvis Costello's "I Want You," which she performed WITH Elvis Costello. She basically stoled the song from him, and he seemed more than happy about that.
[Dok jumps in like a troublemaker to insist on including the guy who wrote it, Mel Torme, though it is fair to argue the Nat King Cole version is superior]
[h/t Pitchfork]
Evan Hurst is the managing editor of Wonkette, which means he is the boss of you, unless you are Rebecca, who is boss of him. His dog Lula is judging you right now.
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