White House Cheers Sad Trump With Fake Polls, Trucks That Go VROOOOOOM!

2020 presidential election

President Mopey McLoserpants is flopping around the White House bitching all day, and his aides have had it up to here with the endless pity party. Luckily, the Washington Post reporters are always there with a shoulder and a tape recorder to cry on.

"Every guy that talks to him, the first half of the conversation is, 'Woe is me,'" a source told the Post. "They're all saying, 'You've got to snap out of it. You're the president. Presidents are supposed to deal with crises.' But he's fixated."

On the Black Lives Matters protests, the president was similarly statesmanlike.

"Some stupid cop in Minneapolis kneels on someone's neck and now everyone is protesting," he griped to an advisor.

Whatcha got on the economy, big fella?

"I had this great economy and they made me shut it down," he's reported to say over and over and over to everyone he meets.


Gone, say these advisers and confidants, many speaking on the condition of anonymity to detail private conversations, are the usual pleasantries and greetings.

Instead, Trump often launches into a monologue placing himself at the center of the nation's turmoil. The president has cast himself in the starring role of the blameless victim — of a deadly pandemic, of a stalled economy, of deep-seated racial unrest, all of which happened to him rather than the country.

Sure you've been trapped in your house for three months wondering if your kids are going back to school and whether your company will fire you when the PPP money runs out, while staving off that panic attack about your elderly parents. But the real victim here is obviously Donald Trump, not those 130,000 Americans dead because he didn't want to spook the stock market in February by preparing for a pandemic.

Luckily the Toddler in Chief has got aides brainstorming ways to cheer him up. In April, Hope Hicks and Dan Scavino scheduled a Truck Day. You know, like at your kid's preschool.

Via White House Flickr


Plus those helpful minions are busy cooking up "social media videos that feature throngs of his adoring fans" and sticking bullshit internal polling under his nose that "shows him in a better position than public surveys." Check out this doozy from the Trump campaign.

Sick graphics, bro! Didja make that on your Samsung smart fridge, or a Commodore 64?

And if that whiner is still down in the mouth, they can send him over to Hannity for an on-air reacharound. Here is an actual transcript from last night.

HANNITY: Let me ask you this. I know, when you built all of these hospitals, you brought in the Navy ship for New York. You built the hospital. You built 3,000 beds at the Javits Center. They only used 1,000. The only used like 200 on the Comfort. But you also manned those beds. You also provided the PPE. But you also converted both the ship and the Javits Center, 3,000 beds.

TRUMP: That's right.

HANNITY: They only used 1,000 — to COVID capability. Now, my understanding is, you had to change the ventilation system to actually make that happen.

TRUMP: Right.

America, you ungrateful slut, why aren't you thanking your president for personally manning the COVID ward in New York City?

Then after talking about ventilation on hospital boats — "they circularize" — Trump went back to claiming Biden was demented and bragging about his amazing ability to differentiate between CLOCK and CAMEL.

Back at the White House, it's not all gloom and doom, though. Some advisors tell the Post that Trump's mood is finally starting to improve as he grows increasingly confident that it's all starting to turn around and he'll get that victory he's got coming to him.

He has continued to tell advisers, for instance, that he is certain the virus will go away by October and that there will be a "cure" by then — a word he favors over "vaccine."

Then, he adds in these tellings, the economy will rebound overnight and he will win a second term.

You bet, Poppy! Just keep watching that Fox, and it will all be fine.

[WaPo / Fox]

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Liz Dye

Liz Dye lives in Baltimore with her wonderful husband and a houseful of teenagers. When she isn't being mad about a thing on the internet, she's hiding in plain sight in the carpool line. She's the one wearing yoga pants glaring at her phone.


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