The Donald and Me or am I Quackers

The Donald and Me or am I Quackers ? ©

By Michael Casey

I’ve reached story 910 or so, and I wondered what I should turn my attention to today. I think I’ve been hacked, nothing here but I think I have a spy on my computer, the screen saver has a photo of Donald and Barron Trump playing golf, mum is sat on the golf cart knitting a baseball cap with 45 on it. The trees can be seen walking, but it must be the secret service keeping a watchful eye on everything.

So Barron you have proved your point, is it you who just sent an advert about heart attacks? I had my quadruple bypass 2 years ago, and was it you that sent the life insurance messages too. A turkey at Christmas would get better coverage. If I knew your email I’d send you the photo of me looking like a drunken fool, by the way I did win a prize as the uncoolest dad thanks to that photo, and by the way you are not missing anything if you follow dad’s advice and never drink. I saw a lifetime of alcoholic lodgers myself, not a pretty sight. I probably drink less than 20 pints in a year, and I mean lager not antifreeze, I am not Russian.

And I imagine it was not you sending me emails for pain killers, ok I’ll shut up about it, I just saw your dad saying you were a computer whiz. Now where was I, 255 words in and I haven’t got to the point, over here in UK we had a column in Private Eye about the imaginary life of Dennis Thatcher the husband of Margaret Thatcher who was our PM. So I was thinking as your dad will dominate the news for 4 years or even 8, depending on when he gets bored, what if I wrote an imaginary column about me and the Donald. I just flinched and ducked then as I imagined the secret service shooting in my direction.

It would be a bit of fun, as close to getting drunk and having the room spin around, but without having taken any alcohol. A bit like glue sniffing I suppose, but I’ve never done that either, it can kill instantly, so never even think of doing it. So what if I started a column about The Donald and Me, I’d have to number them so people can keep up, and be on the right episode.

Would men in suits arrive at my house and make me an offer I could not refuse, would my daughter’s teddy bear be kidnapped and I’d get notes on Trump hotel notepaper advising to be careful if I cared for the teddy bear. If you like the teddy would be a hostage. Its a bit of an Irish hostage situation, a teddy bear gets to live a life of luxury while we stay here in Birmingham.

Surely being a hostage isn’t meant to be on 5^th Avenue, while we stay on our road, Moonlit Graveyard Crescent number 69, Birmingham. It would make sense if we were taken away and the teddy bear stayed home, that’s why I call it Irish. My own people are from Kerry, great golfing place, your dad will know of it for sure.

So what should I do? I’ll wait for the numbers to come in on my site and see if this taster is liked, and if it is then The Donald and Me will become a feature. Though I could have my Internet removed in the interests of national security. Have you seen any photo of me, Santa is a bigger threat than my words. Though if ever the Donald does get to Kerry, can I have a lift to visit my relatives, all I need to do is borrow a SUV and one driver. I’ll feed and pay the driver the same amount your dad gets for being President, is one dollar too much?