“Presidential” Candidate
Okay, so I know my most recent apology wasn’t that great, and I accept that. I am a big man, the biggest man, and I know when I didn’t do something as well as I could. I know many of you with lighter constitutions were put off by my comments on that video Crooked Hillary leaked to the corrupt mainstream media, and I want to talk to you about that, America.
But first, I want to make a few things clear. I want you all to know that I’m not angered by you taking offense at the comments I made in private with my good friend Billy Bush. It was just locker room talk, that’s all it was, there’s no point in me getting angry over something so simple. Look, OJ Simpson, a very smart friend of mine, he knows his way around laws like I do and I’ll tell you, we were in a locker room together back in 1994, and he said to me, “Donald, you’ve gotta help me.” And what we said in that locker room, naked and alone, doesn’t matter anymore, it was a different time. There are more important things now, like ISIS and cybering.
No one has more respect for women than me. I love women and they love me. They love me big league, some would say. And if that hasn’t been made clear by my wives, all three of them, who all say, “Donald, he’s the greatest, he’s the best,” then you aren’t paying attention. Not only do I respect women, I can lead them. I’m a great leader of women.
For example, I was sitting around in my throne room one day and two women walked in with a baby. One of the women (she was like a four), explained that the other woman was claiming the baby was hers and trying to steal it. The other woman, a solid eight, said that the first woman was full of lies, shameful lies (Maybe it was Hillary — I don’t know, although she’s definitely a four). I ruled that we should cut the baby in half — they can make more, right? — to the delight of the eight and the terror of the four. After I cut the baby in half, the four showed me the birth certificate, which she should have shown earlier; to be honest that baby was one bad hombre and he deserved it. Anyway, the eight was happy and that’s what matters.
Ultimately, I want to make sure you all know that I am not angry with you. I want you to think of me as a loving god, not a vengeful one. When the salt farmers of Nebraska — I’ve been to the salt fields, many times, great hardworking women and children — are conscripted into carving a gold statue of me that’s visible from space, I will make sure that they are well taken care of so they don’t faint on the job (unlike someone else we know). Then everyone will say “this is the best statue, the greatest,” and they won’t refuse to bow down to it and get thrown into a furnace.
In the end I just want you to know, I forgive you, America.
