Make America Grope Again, or, I’m Sorry That You Feel That Way, but I’m Not Sorry for Feeling You That Way

Donald Trump has issued an apology-of-sorts amid a storm of controversy over comments he made in 2005 in which he bragged about groping and assaulting women. The Republican candidate initially sought to brush them off as nothing more than ‘locker room banter, reflecting his deepest, inner self’.

But amid wishy-washy hand-wringing by a handful of leading Republicans who’ve supported him despite his many earlier vulgarities and obvious ignorance, Mr Trump posted a video on his Facebook page in which he offered a second, even less meaningful, apology. That video showed a man more angry than apologetic.

Almost immediately, however, dependable Donald’s unrehearsed remarks leaked. His latest comments were surprisingly frank and read in full:

I’ve never said I’m a perfect person, nor pretended to be someone that I’m not.

You’ve just been too dumb to notice and too full of hate to care.

I’ve said and done things that I deeply regret you’ve caught me saying and doing, and the words released today on this more-than-a-decade-old, very-against-me video are some of them. There are, of course, many, many more.

You wouldn’t believe. Or maybe you would. But who gives a damn.

Indeed, anyone who knows me knows these words don’t reflect who I’m now presenting myself to be. In fact, they’re a bit mild compared to other things I say, like, all the time.

And you don’t want to know what I’m thinking right now. Believe me. Especially you in the third row, the one in the sweater.

But, yes, I said this stuff, now I’m pretending that I was wrong and for that I apologize to myself. I bigly promise, cross my heart and hope to fly economy-class with the riff-raff, that I’ll never apologize again.

That I can tell you.

Why should I? I’ve traveled the country talking about change for America, but my travels have never changed me.

Why would they?

I’ve insulted women, the blacks, Mexicans, and Muslims, even the disabled. And still two out of five of you bucket of deplorables are supporting me.

Even the goody-goody Paul Ryans, the so-called hero John McCains, hell, even Ted ‘My-Foreign-Daddy-Killed-Abraham-Lincoln’ Cruz. Sad!

Anyway, what was I saying? Was it about the Nukes? Ivanka?

Not Junior, I hope.

Oh, right.

Over the last year, I’ve spent time with grieving, very hot, not-piggy mothers who have lost their children, laid-off workers whose jobs have gone to other countries but who still look pretty good with a little make-up, and people from all walks of life who just want a better future and need a good squeeze here-and-there.

Mainly there. If you know what I mean.

I have gotten to know the great people of our country, though not as many in the Biblical sense as I’d expected when I announced my run, and I’ve been honored by the faith I’ve conned them into placing in me.

Especially by the born-agains. Even Pious Pence himself! I have to hide the Playboy magazines and coke every time we meet. And you think his hair’s real. Brother. (sniffs)

But Mike was great last week, wasn’t he? I mean, I taught him. He knew how to hate, sure, everyone knows that, but I taught him how to lie, too.

Pretty. Good. Work. If. You. Ask. Me.

Actually, Pence wasn’t my first so-called choice. I wanted to choose Don Rickles, but he’s ninety. And Jewish. Still, Rickles is great. Really. He once said that ‘every night when I go out on stage, there’s always one nagging fear in the back of my mind. I’m always afraid that somewhere out there, there is one person in the audience that I’m not going to offend!’ And they loved him, too.

CP30 Sharkey. Or CPO. Something.

Where was I? Right, right.

I superficially pledge to be a superficially better man tomorrow and will never, ever, let you down, provided you don’t actually apply any meaningful, or frankly even superficial, standards to me.

Hell, I’m gonna build a wall around fact and make the scientists and the failing New York Times pay for it. They’ve got no circulation. No circulation.

No, really, I’m getting no circulation up here. I think they stapled this thing too tightly to my head. Somene, please call in Dr Bornhenstein.

Where was I? Let’s finish this up. Hannity’s expecting me to phone him. No. One. Else. Did.

Let’s be honest. We’re living in the real world. I’m just a helluva lot richer than you. And you. And you. Okay, maybe not him.

But greed is good; I’m not.

Kellyanne, how’s this, ‘I want to release the results of my moral and psychological attitude test, but I’m being audited. I’ll release them as soon as they’re done.’ No? Okay. Okay. Just a thought.

This character nonsense is nothing more than a distraction from the important issues I’m facing. I want to get back to making America 1860 again! Just like the framers intended in 1667.

And if my brand gets a little attention along the way, what’s the harm? I may as well enjoy myself, with my hot wife, before the ice caps melt and kill us all anyway.

At least, Rosie O’Donnell will go, too. And that Latina. And Pocahontas. 

Not many people know that my original motto was gonna be ‘I’m mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore.’ We made 25,000 caps, but they cut off part of the message. They all said ‘I’m mad as hell.’ I wanted to use them anyway, but someone thought they might be misunderstood. Anyway, that’s what we get for trying to buy American.

Where was I. Oh, yeah, all this, ‘he’s no Ronnie Reagan guff’. You want Reagan, I’ll give your Reagan: ‘My fellow Americans, I’m pleased, really terrifically pleased, to tell you today that I’ve signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever. We begin bombing in five minutes.’

Is this microphone on? Just kidding, Putin. We’re good.

I should’ve run as the candidate for the Hurricane Party!! Am I right?

Sweater-girl understands, don’t ya? We’re gonna go out and buy some furniture later. Bada-Bing! Bada-Bang! Bada-Boom!

Imagine what I’d be like if I drank! 

Anyway, many people are saying that we’re losing our jobs, we’re less safe than we were eight years ago, and Washington is totally broken. They’re wrong, except for the Washington part, but many people are saying it.

And you’re too stupid to get it. You have no idea. No idea.

I have to say, because I have no self-control, that Hillary Clinton and her kind – by which I mean women generally, as well the minorities, and especially the minority women, except that Connie Rice, there’s something about her – have run our country into the ground with their political correctness, their social justice, and their so-called constitutional rights.

We don’t have a country any more. A country club maybe, am I right, but not a country.

Sure, I’ve said some foolish things, some terrific, really, really terrific foolish things, but there’s a big difference between the words that I secrete and the public service of the Clintons over decades. I mean, I could say that Bubba has abused women and Hillary has bullied, attacked, shamed intimidated, and possibly even kissed his victims.

But I’m too super-classy to do that.

Anyway, we’ll discuss this more in the coming days, after a few news cycles, but I doubt it’ll matter to many of you. I mean I could stand in the middle of Chicago and shoot somebody, and I wouldn’t lose most of you morons. And if it was Hillary – I’m joking, of course (shakes head) – some of you might even give me a metal. 

You’d blame the Bilderberg group. Or international money-lenders. Or the Democrats. 

Kellyanne, what about, ‘Hillary Clinton and her campaign of 2008 actually made these lewd comments. I. Finished. Them. I finished them. You know what I mean.’

Too soon? Okay. Okay. How about ‘You’re fired!’

What, too soon? I’m kidding. I’m kidding.

Anyway, Kelly-Baby, can you get me some coffee? Snap to it and let the boys talk. Oh, but see if Sweater-girl wants anything.

I tell you, I’d fight for the right to keep and bear her arms.

Okay. Let’s finish this. I need to feed my pigeons.

See you at the debate on Sunday. If I’m not ‘sick’ (makes air quotes). But remember that we don’t win anymore. We never win.

It’s all rigged.

Anyone seen my phone?

What’s this button do?

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