: I want a nobel :

Nominate me. The loser Norwegian Nobel Committee won’t let me nominate myself. I tried twice; once in 2017 and again in 2018. You know what they did? Contacted the nominator who said the nominations weren’t valid. D’oh!

So the committee turned the letters over to the Oslo police, who investigated and eventually got in touch with the F.B.I. My beautiful letters were declared forgeries. Such big lies.

I deserve a Nobel more than anyone. I’ve done so much. I’m building a wall, declaring emergencies, colluding, conspiring, stealing Crooked Hillary’s 2016 campaign slogan — she lost, I won. Plus I’m golfing, executive timing, and driving America into yuge, new oceans of debt. I’ve done more than any precedent ever has or ever will. Besides, they gave Obama a Nobel. I want one.

If they won’t give it to me, I’ll have one made and say I won it. I do that a lot. Remember when I hung fake TIME magazine covers in my clubs? They celebrated me and my bigly great television show The Apprentice. Who cares where they came from? I’m a big, fantastic star. The spotlight should always be on me. Except when I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe or my hair is blowing or I‘m wrestling with an umbrella. Then, no.

I’m a winner. How I win, by hook or by crook or by obstructing justice, doesn’t matter. The glorification of me will never end if I have my way. And I will or else.

copyright © 2019 the whirly girl

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