I heard through the grapevine that Republican presidential candidate, Donald Trump, thought he had his vice-presidential running mate all lined up—then came the phone call and an emphatic “No!” from Honey Boo Boo.
“I will not hang out with a man who wears an orangutan pelt on his head,” said the precocious former reality TV star, to the other former reality TV star.
In reality, the shows were not reality, and how the two ever became stars is beyond imagination.
But then it can’t be reality that the racist, demagogic, arrogant, ignorant Trump, who never met a vulgarity he didn’t like, could become a candidate for president of the United States.
Well, can it?
Anyway, I decided to call Donald. I got his phone number from one of the thousands of Muslims in New Jersey, who were cheering the attack on the World Trade Center a decade ago.
Most say that never happened, but Donald has Superman vision and hearing, because he eats Chinese carrots and can see for miles. Trump agreed to an interview at the Trump Tower in New York.
My first question was about 9/11 and what happened on that day.
“Terrorist attack on the World Trade Center,” he said, “by train, plane or automobile…I forget. Something bad is happening. Something really dangerous is going on.”
Hmmm, I thought.
My second question concerned Corey Lewandowski, Trump’s campaign manager, who stands accused of roughing up reporters at Donald’s rallies.
“He graduated from Trump University, a very, very great university and he’s very great, really, very, very great, and he is going to help me make America great again,” Trump told me. “Something bad is happening, something really dangerous is going on.”
I asked if I could speak to Mr. Lewandowski.
“He’s out back waterboarding my Mexican gardener,” Trump said. “Or a Muslim, or a terrorist, or a reporter or a protester from one of my rallies. Whatever. Something dangerous is going on. Corey is very, very great.”
I asked Donald to respond to the criticism that he has not disavowed the support of the Ku Klux Klan, the infamous white supremacist group known as the KKK.
“This is very great,” Trump said. “KKK is not the Ku Klux Klan. It stands for Kim, Khloe and Kourtney, the Kardashian sisters. They are really, really great and are going to help me take back this country and make it great again. Not sure about that Kanye West guy, though—black, you know. Not so great.”
One of Trump’s supporters (he looked like Chris Christie, but I knew it couldn’t be), stumbled by, with a beer in one hand and a hamburger in the other, wearing a ‘Chris Christie for VP’ T-shirt and seemingly stoned on something…perhaps Miracle Whip.
“Can it be you, Mr. Christie?”
“Yes, I make good cookies, very, very great,” he replied, his mouth full of hamburger and bacon.
Trump looked at him.
“Recovered very, very well from the lobotomy, don’t you think?” Donald asked.
“Eh?” I replied.
“Wait a minute,” Trump said, looking suspiciously at me. “You said ‘eh?’ Are you a Canadian like that single, greatest liar and pussy, Ted Cruz?”
I couldn’t lie.
“Yes,” I said.
“Get him outta here!” Trump yelled to his security guards.