Dear Orange Man Bad,
Well, winter is coming with a vengeance and I'm guessing that you're feeling pretty bummed. I've noticed the dayglo orange has drained from your cheeks and your once histrionic tirades have taken on all the petty melodrama of a garden variety adolescent hissy fit. And who could blame you? After months of some of the finest race baiting since Willie Horton danced with the devil in the pale moonlight, after what felt like years of a vast Soros funded conspiracy of Black lesbian Bolsheviks and fire breathing Mau Mau flag desecrators coming to put their filthy Marxist fingers all over a daughter near you, even the excitable suburban soccer moms have agreed that they'd rather spend the next four years with a disintegrating fossil like Biden than the next four minutes with you. Tough blow motherfucker! And usually that would be all I have left to say to a glorified chatroom troll getting his comeuppance but, believe it or not, the two of us have something in common and I think it might just be something worth looking into.
I know what your thinking, what could you possibly have in common with me? On paper we couldn't be more different. I'm everything you despise; a BLM supporting, Marx quoting, genderqueer anarchist dyke. I "chose" to be a woman and I don't even have a pussy to grab, just a tiny limp dick like yours and a big set of those things you gave to Bibi Netanyahu for the keys to the White House. I probably disgust you, and trust me honey, the feeling is more than mutual. As far as I can tell, you've spent your whole miserable existence failing your way to the top, burning other people's money like Marlboros just to grab another pack from the taxpayer's pocket so you can buy more gaudy crap no one on earth needs and get your rocks off next to Bill Clinton with some teenage sex slave on Jeffrey Epstein's private airline. As far as I can tell, you're all the toxic byproducts of state sponsored crony capitalism poured into one disgusting lumpy orange beanbag chair and you've generally ran the White House like a call girl service for Israel and their head-chopping peace-pals in the Persian Gulf.
But you and I do have one thing in common, however unsettling it might be for either one of us to admit. We share a common enemy. Your worst enemy. Way worse than Antifa hipsters or Muslim immigrants. They're the motherfuckers who have been aiming for your ass from the Grassy Knoll from the moment you suggested maybe getting along with Putin wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. You call them the Deep State. I just call them the Establishment, and they're the ones who screwed you out of another four beautiful glorious years of White House shenanigans. They're the ones who cooked up that casserole of hopped up nonsense called Russiagate to steer your periodically Russophilic ass back onto the Cold War straight and narrow. They're the ones who've been snitching you out every 15 seconds to the fake news, making every shart you took on a peace summit a headline before you could even change your pants. They're the real enemy, Donny boy. It's all their fault. The neocon menace that has infested both parties and got Sleepy Joe elected. But I know how to get revenge, Mr. President. I know how you can get even with those sick fucks. You may have had to sweat these creeps for the last four years but I've been after them for decades and I know their Achilles heel. I know just how to make them squeal like the little piggies they are.
It's the wars, Donny, their beautiful precious little wars. The neocons, Biden included, love those endless fucking wars more than life itself, more than you love Big Macs and forced oral sodomy. They've put years, decades of their lives, whole careers into filling every third world nation with oil and sand to the brim with barely legal GIs trying to pay for two years of city college with PTSD. They can't get enough of those fucking wars, and you seem to love them too. You've bombed the Middle East stupid over the last four years and bankrolled every mass starvation and full blown genocide the sheiks could afford to buy in backroom deals with promised golf courses among the dunes. But I know you, Donny. I know that you are way too goddamn petty for anything resembling a coherent foreign policy, and I know that there is one thing you crave more than ill-earned money, more than undivided attention, more than your hottest daughter's sweet sweet ass, and it's revenge, and all you have to do to get it, to get even with those fuckers, is to follow through with just one goddamn campaign promise and end their stupid precious wars. End them all.
I'm not talking about this 2,500 by Christmas chicken-noodle-bullshit. If you leave even 25 GIs in any one of those countries, Biden and his buddies will have it back up to quadruple digits by Easter, and they'll blame it on you the same way you blamed every bloodbath you committed on Obama and Bush. No, Mr. President, you have to go all the way to make this sting. You have to bring home every last soldier and not just from Iraq and Afghanistan, but from Syria, Somalia, Kuwait, and Kyrgyzstan. You have to shut down the DMZ and abandon NATO, and for once, you have every right and power to do so as Commander In Chief. Hit the cameras and announce the great withdrawal on live television, and publicly fire any official who so much as drags their feet. Fire them all. Fire the whole goddamn Pentagon and fill it with reality TV stars and washed-up pro-athletes. Make it crystal fucking clear that every firing is for peace, to end these wars this whole goddamn country despises, and if they still resist, go over the brasses heads and command the soldiers on the ground to disobey any commanding officer who tries to keep these wars burning. Most of those grunts voted for you and even more of them are sicker of these stupid fucking wars than the rest of us.
Do this Donny and the deep state will have an epic conniption. Decades of imperial statecraft flushed down the fucking toilet with your rotten pumpkin ass on the seat. Oh, it will be glorious. They will howl and sob in despair and curse your name on every news outlet. But the people will love it. They'll love you. You'll be a goddamn rock star. You might not even have to pay for consensual pussy anymore. And you will ruin Biden's presidency in the process. His team is stacked to the clouds with weapons industry wonks and neocon thinktank parasites. They paid for their wars already and they're gonna get them. But Biden will be forced to own them completely. He will have to be the asshole to send everyone back, to break up thousands of holiday family reunions just to feed the beast and make the wars forever again. If he lives through a single term, he'll lose reelection to a cheap suit filled with gerbils, shit, he may even lose to you. But you'll never know unless you pull the plug on that war machine. I still won't vote for you. I'll keep on advocating for the destruction of the whole damn government that imprisons my people for profit. But it'll take the military industrial complex years to recover from the damage, and that fact will put an evil little smirk on both of our faces, even as we prepare to duke it out.
Think about it, Orange Man Bad. It could be a beautiful Christmas.
Yours in hate eternally,
Soundtrack: Songs that influenced this post
* Up the Wolves by the Mountain Goats
* Faith Healer by Julien Baker
* Glorious by Adorable
* Happy Xmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band
* Like a Rolling Stone by Bob Dylan
* I Bet On Loosing Dogs by Mitski
* Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival
* Fight Test by Flaming Lips
* Untitled (How Does It Feel) by D'Angelo