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Come On, Donnie, You Can Do It. You Got Balls, Bro!
Trump’s cowardice comes out as he moves his inauguration indoors.
Donnie, come on, pal.
Donnie, Donnie, Donnie. If William Henry Harrison could do it, then so can a tough guy, America’s-first-tyrannt-in-waiting. Some chilly weather wouldn’t put off Mussolini. Hitler slept in a barely-heated cabin not far from the Eastern Front for weeks at a time. Those guys, though, were tough.
I get it. You want to be all bundled up and comfy-cozy in a big indoor stadium. Okay, it makes sense. You should put on your Captain America thermal underwear and ask Mel-wania to make you a thermos of homemade hot cocoa. I am sure she is a wonder in the kitchen.
Consider, though, Donald, how people would have spoken about in awe. “Wow, Leader Trump went out there, no hat, no overcoat, and looked off at the freezing, huddling mass of fellow cultists, and gave one of the ‘best’ speeches the world had ever heard. The 19-degree temperatures, -2 with a wind chill factor, never fazed him. Golly, he is a towering and powerful man.”
But, nope, Donnie, you are letting Mel-wania get into your head. Maybe, as you were getting into your footsie PJs, the Mt. Rushmore ones with you on the side of the mountain instead of Lincoln, you got so excited at…
