If you’re new to my articles, you should know that Donald Trump and I have twin-like similarities. Well, the other day my twin and I came in for lunch after a morning of playing outside. As we were eating our macaroni and cheese with the hot dogs cut up inside, my twin asked me which president he was similar to today.
“Well,” I said, “we’ve already talked about you’re John Adams and Andrew Jackson and Martin Van Buren and James Polk and James Monroe and James Madison. Today, though, I see similarities between you and Franklin Pierce.”
“I’m Franklin Pierce!” Donald exclaimed with his mouth full. “How?”
“Well,” I said, “Pierce was not really capable of doing the job either. One voter from his hometown suggested that Pierce was fine state attorney and a decent congressman but as president he was “spread durned thin.”
“I’m not spread durned thin,” Donald said angrily.
“I was just thinking about how it was easier to find ways to steal money before you were president. Now that you’re president you seem to think you can still get away with your illegal ways, but it’s harder because of the extra scrutiny. Pierce had that problem with his drinking. Once he became president, his alcoholism became public knowledge.”
“I’M NOT FRANK PIERCE,” Donald said in a strange paranormal voice. I chanced a look at him, and it was frightening. His skin had changed from orange to human-colored. His hair shook up and down, all hairs in place and moving in unison. I could see that he wanted to grab me, but there were no forbidden parts in arm’s reach. I quickly backed down.
“No, you’re not Franklin Pierce.” I said. “You’re not spread thin. You’re fat.”
“Well said,” Donald answered. Then we went back out to play.