Trump's latest obsession is with a municipal D.C. golf course. East Potomac Golf Links.
Yesterday, the Orange Prolapse posted about 20 pictures of the dilapidation and decay.
Oh, the horror. I've never felt this level of outrage and disgust.
It reminded me a of rockin' country music song I penned 13 years ago. Git The Skids. The song's about that singular moment in your life where everything goes to shit. So you gather up a bunch of skids, head out the crick, get drunk, throw 'em down, torch 'em, and do a ceremonial Scalping Jew war dance 'round the fahr.
When you hit the skids
You gotta git the skids
When your truck blows a tire and you ain't gotta a jack
When the Bud runs dry, but the Jack comes back
Now that's just the chorus of course. But the rest of the lyrics are exceptional. And it ain't no parody. It's an original.
| Before |
| And WAY before. |
Trash Island
sonofsaf
Donald’s a fuckion’ jag-off
Donald’s the purest human scum
His golf course on Trash Island
His big lies you should not defend
Seventh deadly sin
And he’s gonna stop the steal and sing
Clown’s freedom bells are freedom bells
Those freedom bells are toilet stalls
Trump’s hell he can’t control his sphincter
In a golden toilet stall
Mushroom to blow
And tiny groan
An Island
Devendra Banhart
And all my fingers ran off
And I just couldn't follow them
Your eyelash was an island
And your eyes were someone's friend
Oh could that have been
Well I hardly was a real sweet thing
Now when my smells grew some new smells
And I just couldn't smell them all
I smell my sister in the winter
And my father in the fall
Cross and then snow
A tired moan
Devendra Banhart has never played the Burgh. Never seen him.


