Thursday, January 28, 2016

Nothing Worse Than Getting The Old Man Smell Out Of A Place After A Trump Rally

Look, I'm not new at this. I've been cleaning up this community center after Kiwanis meetings, Casino nights... and you should have gotten a load of the place after the high school held the prom here. But nothing comes close to the stench after a Trump rally. A crowd of cranky 65 year-old dudes getting worked into a lather about immigrants... Jesus, this place is ripe.

You know how when you take your dog to the vet, he pants nervously until the windows are fogged and the smell is like nothing a healthy mammal body is supposed to produce? Yeah, multiply that by 500, throw a bucket of expired Old Spice into the mix, and you might come close to what I've got to deal with. I'm telling you, bleach and a mop doesn't cut it. I have to buy this special cleaner from a black-market industrial chemical supplier. He hands me two jars of the stuff out of the trunk of his car. You can't expose it to direct sunlight, or it turns into nerve agent. Anyway, it's the only thing that does the job.

The crowds just get so emotional. That's why they're throwing off a vapor like this. Trump's up there on the stage telling them he'll make America great again, make them all winners, get rid of the foreigners, and they go nuts for it... because what he's really telling them is that he's going to somehow make them young again. I mean it. He is telling them he can take them back to the world they remember. And yeah, that world never really existed, but that's not the point. It's not political for them - it's personal. They're not mad about immigration policy, or tax policy, or the fact that we're normalizing relations with the Iranians. They're mad because they're getting old. Aren't we all? So this guy makes a crazy promise to bring them through some worm-hole into a fantasy-world 1950's America, and they can't say no. Doesn't matter that it's all a lie. Doesn't matter that Trump doesn't mean it. They start jumping up and down, screaming nonsense, little flecks of spit flying everywhere... and the smell of the thing is exactly like these rallies look -- like month-old veal.

It's useless trying to reason with them. This Trump fellow is hitting them in a dark, scary place, and they are willing to do some pretty weird stuff. They bring their wives and girlfriends, and... Well, the other day, in a broom closet, I found a pair of panties, a hairpiece, two sock garters tied up like they were wrist restraints, and a small pile of unwrapped Werther's candies. I don't like thinking about what happened in there.

Anyway, I'd better get working on this. If you don't finish mopping up the chemical, it will turn the linoleum into a kind of green napalm.

I'd like to say I'm looking forward to retirement. But maybe it's best if I just have a nice comfy heart attack soon.

TRUMP TALES OF TERROR is about ugly creatures, murderous fantasies, and apocalyptic worlds – and they’re right in America. YOU CAN BUY IT HERE.

UPDATE FOR CROOKS AND LIARS READERS: Welcome, guys. If you have a blog or fairly active Facebook page, I'd love to send you a free media copy of my book. Contact me at

1 comment:

  1. This is good writing. I would love to see this in TIME!


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