Dinner With The Trumps!

The Trumps won’t leave me alone. I’ve received yet another email. Well, actually twothreefour five more since my last posts about them. They are so stalking me, right? First they wanted me to wish them a Merry Christmas. Then, they had the absolute gall to ask me to wish Eric Trump, the creepiest Trump, a happy birthday. And now they want me to have dinner with them in exclusive Palm Beach.

Yes, you read that right, exclusive Palm Beach. Excluuuuuuuusive. Oh, shut up. I’ve been down Worth Avenue. It ain’t all that. I mean, if you like douchey guys with popped collars and sherbet hued shorts then it is all that, but for the rest of us it’s a bore. And, I used to live mere minutes from one of your excluuuuuusive golf clubs. The only time I ever cared about that place was when I drove past it and noticed that someone had stolen the ‘T’ off the sign which then made it the ‘rump National Jupiter’. That was a good day. A very good day.

But, hey don’t count me out for dinner. I’m in. What do I have to do? Ok, let’s read through this email. Celebrate the historic first inauguration….beautiful Palm Beach……..love for you to join us….Blah, blah, blah. Get to the damn point already. Special sweepstakes……all it takes is a contribution of $3 or more…..More? How much more?

fullsizeoutput_5a9

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

$200?! Are you off your damn rocker? Oh, sorry, stupid question. Anyone who follows you on Twitter knows how absolutely batshit insane you are. You said $3 or more, but you have a button for ‘other amount’. That’s what I want to contribute to this sweepstakes sham. I have 38 cents in my pocket and a rupee I found on the sidewalk a few months back. Will that do? No? Well then, sorry Don, but $3 is just more than I care to spend to try for a spot at the dinner table with you in excluuuuuuusive Palm Beach.


Fast forward two whole days later and I’ve gotten another email. This one begins with, “If you thought January 20th, 2017 was fantastic…” Whoa, there. Nobody ever said anything about January 20, 2017 being fantastic. I kid you not, I spent January 20, 2017 binge eating Skittles and breaking out into sobs while watching the movie 1984. January 20, 2017 was not fantastic. I promise you that.

I’m assuming the reaction to the first email wasn’t what they’d hoped for because by the second email the entry fee for the ‘special sweepstakes’ had been dropped to the rock bottom price of one whole American dollar. No option for ‘other amount’ either. So, my spare change and rupee idea won’t work. Eh, a dollar? 100 cents. I don’t know.

Maybe if I lived in that part of the country I would shoot for it. Then I’d just have to cover the cost of an Uber. Yeah, I definitely can’t drive because I’d have to get wasted to endure a night with the Trumps. Now I live too far and I doubt the man that constantly begs me for my dollars is going to cover the cost of my airfare to excluuuuuuuusive Palm Beach. Plus, I’ve got nothing to wear. Nah, I’m going to pass.


Three days later, Are you busy on Jan. 20?….Lara and I and baby Luke are heading to Florida……Would you like to come?…….All you have to do is gimme a dollar……….hope to see you at the best spot in Florida for a wonderful dinner, great conversation, and an evening to remember……all my best, Eric Trump. 

Blech. Yuck. Gag. Vomit. Shudder. Eric, the creepiest Trump.

Eric. Listen, man. No offense, but I don’t want to pay even a lowly dollar for the chance to have dinner with your freak show family. You guys are just really weird, you especially. You have a very toothy smile. It bothers me. Also, your hairline is strange. Why can’t any of the men in your family get the hair thing right?

Wonderful dinner, Eric? Come on. Your father eats fast food and freaking Vienna sausages from the can. How good could this dinner be? Like, are we going to be able to supersize our Big Mac meal? Donald purposely eats well done steak. There is no way in hell this meal is going to even be edible.

And great conversation? Yeah, right. Okay. Whatever. Covfefe? Ever heard of it? Your pops isn’t exactly the world’s greatest conversationalist. I already know what he’s going to say. I give the greatest dinners. Nobody gives greater dinners than me. Have you ever seen a steak more well done than this? No you haven’t. Hillary’s emails. Crooked Hillary. Hillary. Sad! I’m not desperate to have hot sex with Hillary. Fake News! 

So, I’m going to have to pass this time Eric. I do have plans. I don’t know what they are at the moment. The garbage disposal may need deodorizing. The cat might have a hairball that needs remedying. Maybe I’m going to have an ingrown toenail that needs addressing. Just not going to be able to make it. Sorry. By all means, though, have a blast eating Vienna Sausages from the can in excluuuuuuuusive Palm Beach without me.


Two days later, Hey girl, it’s Lara…….my father-in-law is humbled by your support……give me a dolla! Look, Trumps, I realize you’re not familiar with this philosophy, but no means no. As in, no thank you. You can’t have my dollar. As in, no I will not be attending your dinner in excluuuuuuusive Palm Beach, which will most likely include crystal goblets of Diet Coke and fried chicken from KFC served on fine china, as well as one word sentences and a whole lotta racism and did I mention the Vienna sausages from the can?

And also, if you could, no more emails please. I’ve already had to edit this blog post four times now. Much like the Trump presidency, this has officially gotten old.


24 hours later………………….

fullsizeoutput_5b0

Awww. Poor Donny. It sucks having to beg people to hang with you, doesn’t it?

*Featured image courtesy of Pixabay

Advertisements