I just don't get the Donald

Its time for BDO to weigh in on the Rosie/Donald feud. I will try to be objective but its hard because I consider Trump to be down there with Bush, President Bashir of Sudan, and Paris Hilton.

He has signed himself up on every talk show he can find and takes delight in bashing Rosie, her ugliness, her fatness, her degenerateness ( I don't get that, unless he thinks gays are degenerate). I have never heard any celebrity bash another celebrity so ruthlessly. He has shown not the slightest bit of restraint. His rants are so difficult to watch they are almost pornographic. And why? Because Rosie had the audacity to disagree with his decision to let Miss USA keep her crown despite some questionable behavior on her part.


He says that Rosie is wrong and that firing Miss USA would ruin her career.


Vanessa Williams was fired from Miss America for questionable behavior and went on to have hit records, a brief movie career, a popular TV show, and is probably the most successful Miss America ever. It didn't hurt her career. I agree with Rosie, you can't be one of the Girls Gone Wild stars and Miss USA. Well, you can now because anything goes in Show Business. I even heard the Miss USA is contemplating a Playboy shoot when she gets out of Rehab.


Anyway Rosie didn't deserve his wrath for expressing her opinion. But she got it. I have issues sometimes with Rosie, she is very opinionated and loud, and she and Elton John need to get some fat, gay, middle aged anger management therapy, but I think she is funny and at least does provide some value to humanity. I don't see the value of the Donald, so I have decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Open up Donald.

Donald Trump, I find you particularly irritating because to me you represents what is wrong with Corporate America. Corporate America started out good in this country. They took the Industrial Revolution and moved our country forward with conveniences and technology. This led to wealth, opportunity and the top spot of the world food chain. Then something happened. They stopped making things of value. They outsourced that to smart but poorer countries, and decided to make stuff of limited value or empty value; and muck with our minds in the process.

It's like we received a beautiful Present one day. The Box was big and shiny with gold and silver wrapping paper, beautiful ribbons of all colors of the rainbow streaming down in ringlets. We carefully opened the Box taking care not to destroy the beautiful wrapping, saw the beautiful pastel tissues encrusted with glitter and when we reached inside we could find nothing in the Box. We asked where is the present, and were told that the Box is the Present. We should take the beautiful Box and display it prominently in our homes, make it a conversation piece. Most of the rich and famous have One. We should take It to work and show everybody our beautiful new Present Box so our coworkers would be envious of us, like when our boyfriends and husbands send flowers to our workplace, but this is way better than any dead lame flowers. We could also give It to our children to take to show and tell, with their solemn promise not to damage It, which will surely make them the most popular kids at school.

To me, Donald, are the king of the new Corporate America. A whole lotta hoopla, doodads and yapping about a box that is empty. But...Donald,you believe you are the Present that is in that Empty Box. You think you are handsome and sexy. And we all know you are primarily promoting yourself and your lame show. You have branded yourself and you want your name to be mentioned as much as possible which translates into more wealth for you.

But you go on and on ranting about how ugly and fat Rosie is; and how her girlfriend is only with her because of her money; and how hard it must be for her girlfriend to even be with that ugly fat pig....

Donald, dude, do you even have any mirrors in that gold electroplated mausoleum you live in?

And that wife of yours, Malaria, I wonder what kind of cocktail of drugs she would have to be on to be around you and sleep with you every night.

I am a post menopausal, overweight baby boomer and I wouldn't sleep with you.

Well, I would sleep with you under the following conditions: First I would have to be on Rohipnol and Ecstasy, several Valiums, and a fifth of Vodka. I would have to have a signed agreement from you that no one, and I mean no one,-- not even myself, would ever find out and I would have to receive check for two million dollars. You would have to agree to say nothing-- no words, no utterances during "it" --just like a Scientology birth. Shhhh, no talking whatsoever. In other words I would have to be dead. The check would have to go to my heirs.

Why would I need all of that?

Donald, your face looks like a droopy white blotchy ass with a flaming red sneering hemorrhoid protruding from it, with eyes drawn on each cheek and a fake nose stuck in the crack, topped off with a nasty looking red toupee. When you talk I want to shrink myself to the size of ant crawl into my ear and smash my hearing mechanism and then enter my ear nerve go into the brain that stores the memories of you and damage those cells as well. When I see you I want to find the switch that controls my retina and turn it off.


Why do you talk like that anyway? You talk like you are in a wind tunnel and someone is feeding you cue cards one word at a time. That would be ok if you had something intelligent, witty or interesting to say, but you don't-- ever.

In the promo of the Apprentice, when you are leaving your private jet with that "Money" song piping in the background, you are walking with your hand touching your chest like Napoleon, I can just tell you think you are so hot, so sexy, so powerful. I keep dreaming that they would reshoot that promo, but right when you get off that last step, someone would put a banana peel there and you would trip and fall on your face and your hair would start flying in all different directions. I love that image.

What you consider hot, sexy and powerful I consider buffoon like.

So when I think Trump I think buffoon--not value, not wealth, not real estate, not bottled water, not cologne, not Miss USA, not casinos-- just a big red headed butt faced buffoon.