Just a heads up right now: on the day when Trump dies, I’m going to be extremely tasteless about it. It’s going to get ugly. You are going to see a side of me I am not proud of. I don’t want any call-outs in my inbox, I’m stating right now that lines will be crossed.
How disgusting can someone be
I wouldn’t even say this about my worst enemy
Forget the fact that its trump. If you agree with this youre fucking evil. Evil literally lives inside you. Wow.
Anyways all of y’all AND the evil that literally lives inside of you are invited to the sick ass house party I’m throwing when lord dampnut kicks the bucket
I feel like all you Americans need to take a look at what happened here in the UK after Maggie Thatcher died. Because when it comes to tasteless celebrations fuelled by anger and the death of a hated political leader, we REALLY pushed the boat out. We had street parties. We had burning effigies. We pushed “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” to the top of the charts out of sheer hatred. Bone up kiddos, and I really hope you manage to do that truly American thing, of dramatically outdoing us with your celebrations.
Reblogging for last comment.
With the way this year is going, the sooner it happens the better.
*this can be reblogged every year
I’m going to make cake. There’s going to be fireworks. There WILL be a burnt effigy.
Look, I’m gonna level with you americans for a second. When old wrinkly and orange kicks the bucket, for once in my life, possibly the only time, I’ll actually want to be able to see the fireworks from across the Atlantic. And I daresay I won’t be the only one. So listen to me and listen closely, cause I’ll only say it once: When the moldy Cheeto bites it, it’s the one and only chance you’ll likely have at being loudly, unbearably, obnoxiously American in your celebration and for once, the rest of the world won’t complain.
…I know I just reblogged this, but that last comment 👌👨🏻🍳
Listen I’m already designing the cake I’m gonna order from Publix.
I want to see the fireworks from AUSTRALIA, guys. Make it happen.
In Judaism, we consider every death a tragedy.
This one will be a tragedy because it didn’t happen sooner, and so many others occurred as a result.
I will be SO tasteless. I will find pastels SOMEWHERE in my wardrobe and drape myself in trans pride flag colors. I will make flatbread and kebabs and learn how to make labneh for dinner and serve it with flan for dessert and celebrate the Middle Eastern and Mexican cultures he wanted to bash so badly. (Okay, I’ll be honest. The kebabs might not be authentic. I might make them barbecue because I learned to make barbecue sauce from a Black American and he hates both Black people and America so it might be a kind of fusion thing.) I will make a donation to the POW/MIA Project even if I have to pull the money from savings, because he had problems with charity and veterans both.
Not only will I celebrate the death of someone who caused so much harm and wished to cause more, I will do it by celebrating the people and cultures he wanted to destroy.
And I will do it all while blasting Highway to Hell.
Trump is gonna die one day and we’re gonna have so many crabs. I am gonna order crabs at a restaurant just for fun. I cant wait to make that man’s death a yearly fuckin holiday
