Wednesday, 18 January 2017

image for Forrest Trump I shot my own poppa to get my inheritance

My name's Forrest. Forrest Trump. My momma always told me, life is like a box of chocolates - you never know what you're gonna get. For me, grabbing pussy is like a box of chocolates, because you always end up with sticky fingers.

I always knew what I was going to get. You see, my poppa was a multi-millionaire. I knew I would inherit that one day, so I never worried about getting a job or doing nothing.

I remember back in 1965, the US government asked me to go fight for them in Vietnam. But I refused. On account of my ginger hair it would make me a real obvious target.

So I went into hiding for a while. That's where I met my good friend Bubba Carson. He was a surgeon and a real smart man. He was also a coloured. People thought we wouldn't get on, what with me being a racist and all, but Bubba didn't mind. We was like peas in a pod.

Finally I got my inheritance. My poppa told me before he passed on that I should invest it all in real estate. So I did. Investing in real estate is the easiest job in the world. You hardly have to do nothing, you just buy buildings and then people pay you lots of money to live in them or use them as offices.

Then I got cocky and tried making my own buildings. I made a casino once and I was so proud that I put my name in big letters on the top of it. But then that there casino went and lost a billion dollars, and I was bankrupt.

Luckily I still had lots of money coming in from the other buildings I owned. So I just fudged my taxes and lied and before long I wasn't bankrupt any more.

Funny, the exact same thing happened about five or six times before I thought it might be a good idea not to make my own buildings.

I'm not a smart man. My momma always said stupid is as stupid does. I've made up for my lack of smartness in other ways. I found that if I act like I'm smart and tell everyone I am, they tend to believe it.

And because I have so much money, I've realised that I can treat people like dirt and they still keep coming back to me. I must be a god or something.

Then last year, I found my true calling and I applied to be the president of the US of A. I wasn't sure if I should apply but my wife Melania insisted. She said "Run, Forrest, run!"

There wasn't no interview or nothing, I just had to stand in front of crowds and holler real loud about whatever came into my head. And before you know it, I got that job.

So I got my friend Bubba to be my secretary of urban development. Urban means coloured, so he was just perfect.

Now that I've won the election, I can sit back and relax. I've proved that I'm the best person in the world. I don't see any reason why they would bother having any more elections. Just make me president for life, then my son can carry on after me.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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