Dan Embree published daily “Letters to the President” with us for the first 75 days. But as he said in his final letter, Trump had “now passed beyond the reach of humor.” To our delight, he has decided to resume his attempts to help Trump or perhaps some of the people around him see the world a little more clearly.—Eds.
I apologize for not writing for a while, but it seemed that you had your hands full through the summer, what with the Russians, and Don Jr’s emails to the Russians, and the contacts of your friends and relatives with the Russians, and Mueller’s weird obsession with the Russians, and besides, you were getting more lawyers and a mostly new staff every month, so I thought you could get along without my input. But lately there are signs that your support out here in Gatos Gordos County is slipping, so I thought it was time to pull your coat – it’s just an expression.
One thing is that a rival group has sprung up, calling themselves the Penceros, which their leader Herb Dickerhund thinks means “the thoughtful ones”, but that just shows he’s confusing pensero (“thinker”) with pencero (“penny-ante loser”). They’re mostly the guys with wives who like Pence because he doesn’t drink with women he isn’t married to – which Melba Thumper (“the Toast of Gatos Gordos”) says would seriously interfere with her social life if it caught on, but we assured her it isn’t going to.
The main thing is that attendance at the weekly meetings of the Trumpistas down at the Retrofit Roadhouse is starting to slip.
The main thing is that attendance at the weekly meetings of the Trumpistas down at the Retrofit Roadhouse is starting to slip. It held steady through the thing about Jeff Session being an idiot (we knew that, but he’s keeping out the Mexican rapists), and through the thing about the fine people marching with the Nazis at Charleston (actually our Sergeant at Arms and the Roadhouse bouncer, Big Lester Gufstason, was one of those fine people, having made bail just in time to go), and even through the thing about fire and fury and Rocket Man and all that (we know that’s just a bargaining position that will lead to a terrific deal such as not having our Walmart nuked), but when you called for a boycott of the NFL, some muttering was heard from the back of the bar.
It’s not that we buy a lot of tickets or that we sympathize with a bunch of millionaire jocks who pretend to be upset by cops who beat up people they pretend to be in fear of, but we don’t like having our institutions messed with.
And young men inflicting brain damage on each other for our entertainment is one of our most sacred institutions. If I were you, I’d get off that one quick – call it fake news and get back to blaming Puerto Ricans for having flimsy houses.