Christmas, November 2018

I know it's Christmas Eve day right now. But for me, the truth of the matter is no present I get tomorrow morning is going to be better than the one I'm expecting next November. And by the way, it's not just a present for me—it's for the world.

My hope is that the November midterm elections will restore control of the house and senate to the Democrats. Then, from net neutrality to tax cuts for billionaires to eliminating environmental controls to reducing liability for banks to the war on women, gays, minorities, immigrants, Muslims and many, many more, they can start systematically reversing every single awful, destructive, uninformed, self-serving, racist, oppressive, shitty decision the current liar-in-chief and Russian operative has made.

And they can do it the same systematic way he's tried to undo every good thing his predecessor (are you sure he can't run for a third term?) did.

While Republican dipshits who voted for a tax code that lines their pockets at the expense of the middle class will have long cashed out by then, despite what you've heard about those cuts being permanent they're not. It's only legislation, and fortunately, with the right people in office it can all be reversed with the stroke of a pen.

So, a merry Christmas to all today and tomorrow. But my hope is the real present is coming next November, which should also make it a happy new year for all.

Until then, please accept this as my little (emphasis on "little") gift to you. It's sung to the tune of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. Please to enjoy.

You better watch out

You better not cry

Better not pout

I'm telling you why

Democrats are coming to town

They're making a list

And checking it twice

They already know who's naughty and nice

Democrats are coming to town

They'll start impeachment proceedings

Like all polls say they should

They'll re-write executive orders

So they'll actually do some good

You better watch out

You better not cry

Better not pout

We're not gonna die

Democrats are coming to town

School lunch programs will be funded

Infrastructure will improve

Obamacare will save thousands of lives

Even though Republicans disapprove

They'll be draining the swamp

For real this time

Immigrants won't have any

Stupid walls to climb

Democrats are coming to town

Democrats are coming to town

Democrats are coming to town

A way out

If you follow me on Facebook, you know what was once a snarky, funny, advertising-bashing feed has turned into one long, deservedly anti-Trump rant 24/7. In light of that, this post may surprise you with its sympathetic tone.

Here's what we all know: Mr. Trump never thought he was going to win the presidency, which was fine with him because he never really wanted the job. What he wanted was publicity and his name in the papers and broadcast news everyday. Then he was going to leverage his provable popularity into a favorable deal for a Trump Network, where one can only assume you'd be able to find reruns of man-crush Sean Hannity, and yet another reboot of the Odd Couple starring Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh (SPOILER ALERT: Limbaugh's the sloppy one).

I know the nation wants a way out, and doggone it, judging from how tired he looks and incoherent his thoughts seem to be, I bet Mr. Trump does too.

I'd like to suggest he write a resignation letter, a bold, unexpectedly honest letter to the Secretary of State—who is the person who accepts that letter—and the nation, and simply explain the situation.

And because I'm a giver at heart, I'd like to offer him this draft:

Dear Mr. Secretary of State,

Well, it's been a crazy few weeks. Certainly far more active in every sense than I would've expected. Executive orders, banning Muslims, repealing Obamacare, the protests. Frankly, I'm spent.

Here's the thing: I never wanted the job. I had the kind of life many people admired. Money, beautiful wife, children I like a great deal, my own building in mid-town Manhattan. Don't forget the jet—pretty nice rolling up to runway 25 Left and seeing that baby fueled and ready.

Anyway, the point is I'm tendering my resignation as President of the United States. I believe my biggest campaign promise of bringing the nation together has been done. Mission accomplished. Have you seen those protests? You tell me the last time people were united like that. You're welcome.

Effective immediately, Mike Pence will assume the office of President. Now, Pence is not the ideal man for the job, and let's face it—I'm a tough act to follow. But he knows how government works much better than I do, and he's less likely to launch the missiles over a disagreement. I can admit it, I've got a temper. I'm working on it.

Besides, I was never going to help my base anyway. Did they really think I cared if they had jobs or not? I mean, I could hire a few of them to pull weeds on the back nine at Mar-A-Lago, but that would still leave a lot of them needing jobs.

I know the mayhem I've caused. But it was a wild ride, no? And Pence will look like a hero just for not getting everyone killed. You're welcome Mike.

I also miss Melania. She never cared for D.C. very much, and I can't blame her. I want to be back at Trump Tower, tweeting without all these people telling me not to, and not causing havoc when I say what's on my mind. Which, as you know, is subject to change even within the same sentence.

Frankly, the longer I'm here the more I recognize two things. First, who needs the aggravation? And number two, Obama handled this much better than I can. He's smart, he's calm, he's well spoken. For a guy born in Kenya, you can't do better.

So that's it. United the people. Put America first. Got Alec Baldwin a steady gig. It's time to go back to private life. Johnny, fuel Trump One for take off. Moscow, then Manhattan.

It's been tremendous people, but we're done here. God bless me, and God bless the United States of America.

Although they won't need it nearly as much now that I'm gone.

Yours truly,
President the Donald