What was it like going deep in the Deep State?

Storming the doors like a herd of mad sheep? Fate

Called your name and you took that big leap. Great

Minds think alike, but thinking comes cheap. Wait—

What were you thinking when you said “Hang the Veep”? Eight

Years in Leavenworth? It’s a date you should keep, mate.

Your god is a tyrant, a blowhard, and cheapskate.

What you have sown you also will reap:

Hate.

WASHINGTON (AP) — The Trump Administration wants to change the definition of a showerhead to let more water flow, addressing a pet peeve of the president who complains he isn’t getting wet enough.

Publicly talking about the need to keep his hair “perfect,” President Donald Trump has made increasing water flow and dialing back long held appliance conservation standards — from light bulbs to toilets to dishwashers — a personal issue.

The bathroom in the master suite high up in Trump Tower

Has a marble toilet, but its flush is lacking power.

And if you want to wash your hair, it sometimes takes an hour

Until your head gets wet enough inside your golden shower.

It takes a lot of water to lubricate your brain

And lots of water pressure to wash out a moral stain.

(Could there be a metaphor in there for your campaign

At the sight of soapy water, swirling down the drain?)

If you don’t want some bureaucrat standing in your tub

Counting out each gallon as you lather up and scrub

Then throw out your old showerhead and go buy one that’s newer

And you know who you have to thank, the nation’s Chief Shampooer.

Win a date with Sarah Palin!

Be among the first to mail in

A boxtop from your favorite ammo

A picture of yourself in camo

And you can take her someplace glam-o!

Imagine how their eyes will pop

When into ‘21’ you drop

With the twinkly winkly Fox

Talking head that’s full of rocks.

You’ll draw jealous looks and stares

As you discuss the world’s affairs

She’ll ask you why they needed two

Koreas, wouldn’t just one do?

You’ll ask her how she views the Fed

She’ll show you pictures of Todd’s sled.

Then here’s an outing sure to please:

A party thrown by Gay Talese.

With Woody Allen, Kati Marton

Steven Spielberg, Mischa Barton

Mayor Bloomberg, Charlie Rose

And some professor no one knows

In a dhoti and a turban

A specialist in third-world urban

Epidemiology.

He wrote a book.  Well, so did she.

And as reward for all her pains

You can take her to Elaine’s!

And there’ll be no more blogs or tweets

From her, denouncing the elites.

She’ll never shoot another moose.

She’ll sip white wine and nibble goose

Pate, and tote those Birkin bags

And editors of women’s mags

Like Cosmopolitan and Vogue

Will proclaim a hot new look: The Rogue.

And as she fashions new opinions

Abhorrent to Tea Party minions

You’d have to use a strong ablative

To convey how she went native.

Brett college years, with pleasure rife

And freshman women tooting on my fife.

How swiftly are ye flying by!

I hardly have the time to zip my fly!

The parties come, the parties go

But through it all, I’m just a bro’

Getting drunk and chasing tail

At Georgetown Prep and later on at Yale.

In after years, should troubles thwart

My chance to sit on the high court

I won’t forget the times I got the chance

To get some woman drunk and drop my pants.

So let us strive that ever we

Can hush this up eternally.

Because I’d really hate to go to jail

For stuff I did at Georgetown Prep and Yale.

Let us not politicize

This tragedy. Let’s stifle

The easy course, to criticize

The ones who made the rifle.

We will be the judges

Of who should bear the blame:

Boys acting out their grudges

Or seeking YouTube fame.

The evil in the souls of men

Has been there from the start

And background checks are useless when

There’s anger in their heart.

So now is really much too soon

For having this debate

Let’s put it off ‘til May or June

When it will be too late.

And anyway it’s kind of moot

‘Cause only a fanatic

Would take away your right to shoot

A semi-automatic.

We’re sending you our thoughts and prayers

Which ought to be enough.

The message is that Congress cares.

And if it doesn’t, tough.

It’s too bad that your husband’s dead,

And let me just say, frankly,

It’s not my fault. In fact, instead,

I think you ought to thank me.

I made the country great again!

I guarantee you that

I’ll win every state again.

I’m sending you a hat.

I guess right now you aren’t thrilled

But beggars can’t be choosers.

I like guys that weren’t killed

The other ones are losers.

Republicans are shocked! They’re shocked!

At what the news is bringing.

Democracy will not be mocked!

Their hands are wringing, wringing.

Republicans are shocked! They’re shocked!

And though they won’t be risking

Their jobs by going off half-cocked

There’s plenty of tsk-tsking.

Listen hard and you’ll discern

The swamp has started bubbling

With the sound of “deep concern”

The creatures find it “troubling.”

The eyes they roll, the chins they stroke

The brows they knit and furrow

The winks for those in on the joke,

Chuck Todd or Joe Scarborough.

Perplexed, afflicted by grave doubt

They gravely shake their head

Hoping that the truth will out

Once they’re safely dead.

For Cinco de Mayo I will drink an entire jar of hot salsa and watch old Speedy Gonzales cartoons and speak Spanish all day. Happy CdMayo! — Tweet by former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee

And I will wear a great big straw sombrero

And other stuff that makes me look Southwestern.

For Passover I’ll get dressed up as Pharaoh

Or Moses as portrayed by Charlton Heston.

‘Cause I’m a big believer in diversity

Different doesn’t have to mean you’re less

To celebrate all sexual perversity

I will put on lipstick and a dress.

And I will do my famous Senor Wences

It will make you laugh so hard you gotta

Tear down all those border walls and fences!

America: We’re Mexico’s piñata!

It’s all about our national priorities.

I side with the neglected and downtrodden

Immigrants and poor oppressed minorities.

For Ramadan, I’ll dress up as bin Laden.

And even though the media might kvetch, it

Doesn’t matter–any little thing may

Cause a tweetstorm. Dressed like Stepin Fetchit

I’ll show my love for Martin Luther King Day.

WASHINGTON — Just over a week ago, the White House declared that ordering an American aircraft carrier into the Sea of Japan would send a powerful deterrent signal to North Korea and give President Trump more options in responding to the North’s provocative behavior. “We’re sending an armada,” Mr. Trump said to Fox News last Tuesday afternoon.

The problem was that the carrier, the Carl Vinson, and the three other warships in its strike force were that very moment sailing in the opposite direction, to take part in joint exercises with the Australian Navy in the Indian Ocean, 3,500 miles southwest of the Korean Peninsula.–New York Times, April 18

Somewhere out in the Pacific

There’s a beautiful naval fleet

With battleships that are terrific

And I command it with a tweet.

I’m sending it to North Korea,

The people there are very bad.

Now it’s in, like, Tanzania

Or Singapore or Trinidad.

Anyway, it’s coming from there.

It will show amazing force!

After that, it’s going somewhere!

America will stay the course!

I hope they’re watching in Damascus

My threats are existential.

If they doubt us, they can ask us:

I’m acting presidential!

I draw no red lines in the sand

I draw them in the water.

Here and now I take my stand,

But first check with my daughter.

I’m sending out a big armada

I push buttons, something happens!

The whole world is my enchilada,

I’m sticking it with map pins.

And if I don’t know where to go

And if I seem to have no clue

The beauty is if I don’t know

Then neither, of course, do you.

I’m sure when I picked up the phone I heard a little click

The Democrats are listening in! It’s terrible! It’s sick!

The buzzing on the line is proof that someone’s interfering

And only I can hear it ‘cause I have the world’s best hearing.

Is that a pigeon on the ledge, or could it be a drone?

Could that ketchup bottle hold a hidden microphone?

I can see Sean Hannity is blinking in Morse code

A warning that my TV set could blow up and explode.

It’s lucky for the country I’ve been certified a genius

Smart enough to understand these messages from Venus:

Carnage is upon us and it cannot be prevented:

The aliens are landing and they won’t be documented.