(Similar to what's happening with Stephen Colbert, I've been ordered by Google to comply with the Trump Administration's dictates if I want to keep my website. I am now required to use the name "Donald J. Trump" at least once in every paragraph I write.
Unlike Stephen, however, I have folded like a piece of flimsy paper at a World Class Origami Festival.)
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It happened several weeks ago, but I can scarcely believe it now.
At a meetup for Baby Boomers, I spotted her across the room. My first thought: I'd love to Donald J. Trump her!
I don't usually have the courage to approach women, but she was standing at the bar all alone. Perhaps in her early 60's, she was quite pretty with pouty lips and a figure that just wouldn't Donald J. Trump!
I took "a double shot of whiskey" (Thank you, Shaboozey!), screwed up my courage, and managed to stride over to her. "Hi, my name is Perry, "I said, "May I buy you a Donald J. Trump?"
"Hello, I'm Cindy," she replied. "This is my first time at the meetup and I'm feeling a bit nervous. Yes, I'd love a Donald J. Trump!"
We decided to go to dinner and had a nice Asian meal at the Donald J. Trump House. Turns out we had many interests in common: we both loved comedy, vintage movies, and especially loved to Donald J. Trump as often as possible!
What will happen? I don't know. "You stick around now, it may show." (Thank you, Donald J. Trump!)
Bet you thought I would say, "Thank you, George," didn't you?
I know on which side my Donald J. Trump is buttered!
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