First and foremost, Haiti is a shithole country. That’s not the point.
Second and secondmost, the fake president’s mouth is a Russian pisshole. That’s not the point either.
The point is “shit” finally made it to the bigtime!
Ugh. Using exclamation points feels dirty now somehow. But anyway, what all the phonily exasperated media missed yet again was that the battle lines for indecent language had now just been re-drawn. “Shit” drew a line in the sand.
Oh what to do, what to do? The grown-ups in the fuckin print and TV media just came out and said it. Man I’m telling you, when you see the word “shit” proudly displayed in the New York Times you just have to laugh. The Times has been the proud toilet paper for bums—in both senses—for years, so why not double dip now? But imagine the world’s most awkward boardroom meetings at all these newspapers and TV shows before the shit hit the fan? To be a fly on that wall.
What was almost equally as funny as getting shit on your morning paper was seeing how certain TV assholes danced around the obvious for the trillionth time, even in this foul context. I mean, we’re all adults here. Ain’t no ten year-olds watching prime time political shows. Everybody knows what the fuck “s – – – ” stands for, so why are we all pretending? Maybe I could see the “brownout” on the Sunday morning shows, which universally wiped the smelly statement’s slate clean, but the pinched-nose approach from certain prime time shows made it appear that something smelled rotten in Denmark. Which would be shit. Have I driven that point home far enough yet?
Anyway, most telling of all throughout this unprecedented diarrhea of the mouth that was pouring forth from all directions was when the New York Times defending their dirty-worded position. Their defense basically consisted of, “If the (fake) president says it, we’re going to run it.” Oh word? So what if he calls the next particularly intrepid young female reporter a “fucking cunt”? Can we all expect to see a giant headline of “Newsflash: Fucking Cunt” the next day? I mean, exactly how far are you willing to take this new potty-mouthed policy?
All I know is I hope Trump starts singing the classic DMX love ballad “I love my niggas but where’s my bitches” during his next press conference, so we can all see those magnificent headlines splashed across front pages throughout the world.