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You Just Can’t Trump Trump!

I believe we should call Trump God, turn him into the World’s Hero, carve his face on every mountain available and just retire the office of President of the United States. Then we should dismantle the Federal Government and hide all of the buttons.

After that, we could all quit our jobs, stay home, read books and watch television reruns of Trump saying, “You’re Fired!” I mean, Trump has outdone history. I’ve heard that he is the reincarnation of not only Hitler, but also Charles II, and my ex-husband. He has a perfect family that looks like he could have mail-ordered the whole set-up from “Android.com,” and since his youngest son is likely Barron, we shouldn’t have to worry about many mini-Trumps hogging all of the gold toilets in the world somewhere down the road. By the time we all become Barren by choice, infertile, riddled with cancer, or taken over by android look-a-likes, we shouldn’t have to worry about anymore human babies ever being born again, whatsoever. Right? Then we can save the world from ourselves and let the monkeys start over.

I’ve seen gorilla warfare and how primates at war will take a child and rip its limbs from its body. At least, humans can sit around a conference table and do their best to avoid that kind of behavior. Unless you live in Aleppo or places in the Middle East.

I have full confidence that if we make sure Trump stays alive and well, we will all have hope to recover from Narcissism as we watch our last remaining children grow up before our very eyes in a land like America where we at least still have freedom of speech! My therapist says that plotting ways to assassinate Trump is now the national pastime! I know I have come up with some doosies. It’s a good thing I have more wisdom than to get myself killed and go down in history that way.

I would much rather go down in herstory, and just rewrite the Bible, the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous my ASSumption, as well as explain Paganism like a good Celtic Pagan Goddess would. I am THE Morrigan come back again! Yes, I changed my name slightly once again and now I am known as Morthan, last name Ukanhandle. DR Ms. Morthan Ukanhandle. I had to trade in my chariot with it’s sparkly wheels that shot out fire for one of those mini-vans, though. At least it keeps me sheltered from the rain and I can rock out to Prince, Madonna, and Queen!

I am amazed at how prophetic 80’s music is now that I have arrived at who I truly am in this world! I would much rather go down in herstory as the bat-shit crazy Oregonian storyteller who has it ALL figgered out! The woman who can tell you just how to tell when a fig is ripe (if you are a man, you should know..you have two hanging between your legs. I put them there!). As a storyteller, I can be anything I want to be.

I can be a married woman, madly in love with my children and another man who is off limits because he says so. I can be a kept woman who met a rich man from the wine country of California, who found me as a scrappy young homeless woman from the wrong side of the tracks, like a “Pretty Woman” movie. I can be an Emily Dickinson and stay in my office writing away without ever seeing anyone ever again. I can be Jennifer Aniston in an Along Came Polly….Anna! And have a blast slithering all over sexy men at local dance clubs.

I can even fling myself out of perfectly good airplanes and relive what it felt like to be thrown down from Heaven in the Great Fall along with my beautiful grandmother, Lucifer, known as Lucy. She sure worked like the devil and she also gave up a lot in life so her children could have a good life during the Great Depression. This fall, I just might go skydiving in celebration of life, instead of staying in Eugene, where I here Trump might come and visit.

Part of me would love to have an audience with Trump just to tell him what for. Part of me knows that will likely never happen, and if it did, I would have to be in a VERY good mood and frame of mind. It might require an entire pan of organic pot brownies…and Trump would have to agree to share. (See my plans for assassinating Trump without killing him in my other articles).

We should all be able to get over ourselves and our propensity toward Hero Worship right about the time Barron is old enough to realize that he is going to have some MAJOR Daddy issues. All of our children will have some MAJOR Daddy issues in the next ten years or so. I know my children will have issues without a lot of therapy the way my family is going. Or, maybe they will adjust just swimmingly to our changing world. I know they at least have a Bardass mother to show them how to take on those in power like a Jack Russel dog taking on a Great Dane!

Trump is our Daddy. Trump is my Anti-God. He stands for everything, I, THE Anti-Christ, just can’t stand for. I just can’t stand for a man who smashes any part of his body on a woman who does not welcome it, and then turns around and calls her “nasty,” married to him or not.

I mean, ooh, ooh, ooh! I want to be like YOU, ooh, ooh! Shooby-doo! I want to walk like you, talk like you, and get to have lots of money and sex like you! I want to be able to do that to a man! And then, I want him to stay home and take care of our children while I go out and find more victims of my sexual prowess! We all want to be just like Trump, therefore we elected a person who embodies who we are as a nation. We are a nation of Narcissists.

I know I am one. I want to be GOD. If I were GOD, I would spank Trump on his rear-end, make him floss his teeth, read him some bedtime stories involving Mary Wollstonecraft’s “Vindication on the Rights of Women,” along with Geoffrey Chaucer’s “Dream Visions,” (In Middle English), and then light into Boethius’ “Consolation of Philosophy.” I would finish up with a rousing rendition of Jonathan Swift’s “Modest Proposal” about eating babies.

Then, I would tell him a tale of heading to Oregon where we have passed a law that explains how road kill is legal to scoop up and take home for dinner. I would tell him about a road trip we could take together where he gets dumped on the side of the road to live among the homeless in Oregon and see how long he thinks he might survive without his gold toilets.

Yes, we should keep Trump safe in his tower with Melania, the Lady of Shallot…she doesn’t need a lot; she doesn’t want his power, sitting in his tower…that Lady of Shalot. I think she’s a “fucking” robot.

I should know. I’m a “fucking” robot, too. I was once married to a man who liked it everyday whether I wanted to or not. It was my sworn duty, and I did as I was told, or else.

I think we should keep Trump alive so we all have a scapegoat. So I have a scapegoat to pour out all of my angst against diagnose-able narcissists just to keep everyone in my own world of crazy fucktards safe and secure from a national threat such as I am. I have devised ways of dismantling the Federal Government, Local Governments, Schools, and even Families that make up the fiber of our nation. I know how the mind of Hitler works, as well as the mind of someone like Charles Manson, and even Jesus Christ of Nazareth. I even have the mind of Christ and know how to forgive someone when they kill you, destroy your life, or erase you entirely, which is the same thing.

I also think anyone who runs for office who has a young child around the age of Barron and my own son, should have his head examined thoroughly. If Trump gets assassinated, then we are left vulnerable. We will no longer have a little boy who would be KING with a big, ugly head running our country, and that would make my career sad. I mean, Trump alone wants to make America “Great” again! How sad! I wanted my children to help out with that endeavor, and I wanted to show them how, by being a good example to them about how to be a good citizen. But, low and behold, they were all stolen away from me by a legal alien, who engages in alienating behavior, just like Trump, and now I am THE Anti-Christ. It’s a big commitment. I am committed. I am devoting my life to being THE Anti-Christ, so the whole world can just deal with it.

I’m good. Only God is Good. I’m God. At least, I’m God’s wife. The Bible says so. I am Jesus’s sister-wife and therefore God’s bride. I gave my heart to Jesus as a little girl and he’s stolen everything away for his glory, I guess. But, of course, it would all be my fault, not the fault of anyone with an agenda, or the fault of any incompetent lawyers or government workers who drop balls and take vacations. DHS didn’t even investigate my case in depth enough to discover that I have EIGHT children, not seven as the paperwork states concerning allegations of child abuse and neglect.

I sure would like to have my youngest child have his rights upheld while he is still a child. Maybe he’s the missing child not mentioned in the DHS paperwork. He just might be under the care of a family of abusers as I type this! My children’s father is abusive. My older children are abusive. Abuse is a learned behavior. I became abusive. I abused myself with the alcohol my ex-husband supplied for me as a way to control me and have his way with me, so then he had more reasons to abuse me further. My children’s father was abused extensively as a child by an alcoholic. His own brother was strapped to a chair in Oklahoma and stabbed to death in an unsolved mystery. His own step-dad who raised him went to prison for molesting his step-sister several years ago. I am scared for my children, but they are all “fine” now, that I, the “BAD MOM” am out of the picture. I am terrified for my children’s futures, but I carry on with a brave face, since no one wants to hear my story.

If we go to war. I am traumatized. If one of my children die before our family heals up from domestic violence and psychological abuse at the hands of their extremely controlling, paranoid, germaphobe, dyslexic, insecure, “good old boy” father who wants to make his family great again by making sure their mother is viewed as the “enemy,” then I am traumatized. If I die before we heal up, then my children are traumatized. It’s one thing to erase a parent for later, to get back to when everyone else is dead, gone, fails them, or they finally learn to see things from a broader perspective. It’s another thing when a parent is gone for good and gone. It’s a sad day in heaven when the true victims, the children forced to choose, end up never really knowing how much the “bad parent,” the “bat-shit crazy” parent loves them and how much they gave up for them to even exist and have a good start in life.

Some parents are painted as bad parents just because society looks at the surface of things, and some things can look very “average” and “normal” on the surface. It’s what lies beneath the surface that can be scary to look at. One could say that having social filter-flop is a condition of the ice bergs melting in one’s life.

If we assassinate Trump because of our world’s issues, our nation’s issues, and our community’s issues, then nothing will get solved. We’ve been here, done this all before. History repeats itself.

Then, Barron would grow up traumatized by all of America for turning on his good-hearted Daddy, and we should ALL bow down and worship at the feet of such a man who has as much money and power as Trump!

At least he isn’t that other psychopathic God named Kim Jong il. He makes me feel really ill. Almost as ill as Richard Spencer. It’s the handsome young charismatic boys like Hitler once was that you should really keep your eyes on. Especially if they speak German and sound like Adolf! “We don’t know if any of them are human!” Spencer said as he addressed the Trump voting “Heil Trump” psychos.

I say, we should elect a GODDESS next time around. I say we should elect a Goddess who is honest, admits if she is a lesbian or in an open marriage, and then embrace a more European approach toward relationships and education. Maybe it’s time for women of the world to all develop Asperger’s Syndrome where we NEVER shut up, boycott men who act like dicks toward us, and change custody laws where women are allowed to have brother-husbands if they choose, stay home with a family that is WELL cared for, and are ROYALLY compensated for being good MOTHERS who are strong enough to overcome a world full of disorders and disorderly conduct incited by power and control hungry patriarchal men and those who worship them!

Long live the Queen of America! Whoever she may be!

Oregon born, Bardass Poet, Bat-Shit Crazy Stand-Up Comedian, Entertaining Social Activist, Mamadadaist Artist of 8 kids, Weirdo Wonder Woman, Narc Researcher