Our President Is A Petulant Child

 

This image of our pathologically narcissistic president will no doubt go down as one of the most widely viewed photographs in history.

There he is, arms crossed, looking like he’s just transgressed in the sandbox. His stern and stupefied teacher, German Chancellor Angela Merkel, is scolding him. Perhaps she’s giving him a timeout. Perhaps she’s ordered him to go stand in the corner.

All the other people in the room, even warmonger John Bolton, Trump’s bloodthirsty national security adviser, look stricken or disgusted. 

These representatives of the G-7, America’s closest friends and allies, are aghast at the behavior of their putative leader, who plies them with tariffs and insults instead of the goodwill gestures his more dignified predecessors have bestowed upon them.

Trump, like a petulant child, sits in a chair, defiant, his tie askew, gut protruding. He oozes the entitlement of an elementary schooler whose indulgent parents have given him an unlimited supply of McDonald’s gift cards.

Merkel towers over him, leaning on a table and glaring as if to say, “Fuck you, you insufferable  brat!” Arms crossed, Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe looks on — resigned, impatient, flabbergasted. 

Trump showed up late for the G-7 meeting and left early, skipping sessions on global warming and the empowerment of women, two of the infamous Pussy Grabber’s least favorite subjects. He rushed off to Singapore for a meeting with Kim Jong Un, with whom he will star in the ultimate reality show, whose outcome promises to be disastrous.

Defying all six of his counterparts in Quebec, Trump refused to sign the post-meeting communique, and promptly unleashed a series of toxic tweets in which he savaged Prime Minister Trudeau, the meeting’s host, as “weak” and “very dishonest.”

As usual, Trump had nothing but kind words for Vladimir Putin. He urged his G-7 counterparts to let Russia back into their exclusive group, despite Russia’s annexation of Crimea and various assassinations of Putin’s foes.

That pee tape must be real. Very, very real.

Spewing bile throughout his time in Quebec, Trump was like a houseguest with shit on his shoe. His colleagues must have been very happy when he was gone.

His warped American supporters, mired in their alternative reality, retweeted this priceless  photo, perceiving Trump’s scowl as an emblem of strength. “MAGA,” they roared.

The rest of us felt nothing but shame.

 

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