AN INSIDE PEEK INTO MAR-A-LAGO

AN INSIDE PEEK INTO MAR-A-LOGO

This is confidential. Please don’t share this information. I have to protect my source.

There’s a truck parked in front of the Delivery Entrance. There’s two words on it: TOWELS. DIAPERS.

Why is that confidential? It turns out the Big Man is not sleeping at night. The perspiration is dripping off him like a raging river. And the torrential diarrhea is racing through him.

Usually when he dreams about a woman it turns him on. A touch here. A feel there. Maybe the whole caboodle. So it costs him a few bucks. He screams FAKE FEEL and the money comes flowing in. Better than a bank. Excuse the pun-He banks on it.

The Towel Man won’t deliver. His invoice says COD-D. Translation:

Cash on Delivery-Donald. Maybe he can make it a Collectible Towel. A little of his sweat on his face in a tarnished gold. Limited Edition, of course. He’ll leave the other part, off.

With his physical problems and the loss of appetite the big Man is no longer a Big Man. In many respects.

His big tool is blame. Then creating doubt. That Colored, Indian Lady can’t possibly appeal to people. She’s stealing his thunder.

She’s using FREEDOM as part of her advertising message. She took that right out of his book on Alternative Facts.

Guess he has to call on Clarence again. Clarence Thomas, of course. His kind of guy. Starts out with some porno and ends upon the Supreme Court. Thank George 41 for that one. The other criminals on the Court are also in his pocket.

The really big problem at hand is September 10. This debate. She’ll wipe the floor with him. So to speak. Up to now, he’s made such a big deal about the importance of debates. The $64,000 question.

His answer could be the questions. Claim the lady has the questions in advance. It has worked with January 6, why not now?

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