Big Red Car here on the day after the end of an error and the beginning of an era. I hope you enjoyed the Inauguration ceremony. It was quite an event. Today, we talk dancing.
One thing is worthy of note in Trump’s America — there will have to be mandatory dancing lessons and it has to start with President Donald J Trump. Sorry, Mr. President, but a dancer you are not.
I know we hired you to be President and not a dancing gigolo, but still, sir, you failed to meet expectations. Just a friendly word from your biggest 1966 Impala Super Sport convertible supporter.
I know there were a lot of details to be handled with the transition and all that. And, I know you have more important things to worry about now that you’re actually the President; but, sir, you, well, you just don’t have it. You looked like a junior high kid who had a lovely girl say “yes” to the dance invitation when you didn’t expect it.
Dancing is vertical foreplay, Mr. President. Does that help?
While I’m taking you to task, sir, I’d like to suggest you go for the family discount. The rest of the Tribe Trump can’t shake a leg either. It’s not like they’re not athletic enough, sir. They just can’t dance. What is up with that?
Please take this the way it is intended — in good fun. I thought your speech was good. Others said it was “dark,” but they would have said that regardless of what you said.
I particularly liked how you gave the four assembled Presidents the Wet Willie over their not taking the interests of the American people into consideration and how Washington, DC wins even when the rest of the country loses. [When has there ever been a recession in DC? Really? Like never.] It’s sort of charming to watch you speak truth to power. Well played, sir.
Please get some dancing lessons.
Respectfully.
As your First Lady, I will work on the President to take dancing lessons. I can usually convince him to do the right thing. He’s so stubborn sometimes, but I will work on him. Thank you, America. I hate to be ungrateful, but the house is a little small though the grounds are very nice.
But, hey, what the Hell do I really know anyway? I’m just a Big Red Car. Thanks for being willing to undertake the whole “draining the swamp” thing, Mr. President. It needs a damn good flushing and you’re the man to do it. On second thought, screw the dancing lessons. Drain the swamp!
