Trump’s National Prayer Breakfast Offering

Hey, are you there God? It’s me, Donald.
To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure that I believe it you. I did win the election, though, so that points to your existence being at least possible. And did you see all of those people at the inauguration? I feel like you must have had your hand in that as well.

I don’t like the idea of anyone being bigger and better than me, to be completely honest. It just doesn’t seem likely, you know? How could you be bigger and better than me? I’m pretty much the best ever, and you don’t get better than the best. How could you?

And sure, you may have created all of this, but I’m looking around, and I’m not too impressed. I see lots of areas that could use improvement.
But to be fair, I can remember what it was like when I developed my first few properties. Mistakes were made, lives were lost. So I can sympathize with the Big Picture that you must have to deal with on a daily basis.

Still, if you really exist, then why not place the Mexicans and the Muslims on an entire other planet? That’s just common sense; keep the riff-raff on the other side of the ropes, you know?
(note to self: would putting these people on a ship to another planet cost as much as building a wall? Let’s look into that.)

Most of my followers believe in you, though, so probably shouldn’t rock the boat. Or ark, right? See, I can play along.
Many of the people who voted for me are slowly realizing that they’ve made a horrible mistake, but there are a few stubborn idiots who are still gung ho. This prayer stuff will keep them on the line for awhile longer. And Mike Pence’s inane babbling will keep them nice and dizzy as well. By then, it will be far, far too late.

I don’t really feel like I have anything to pray for, really. I’m the President of the most powerful country on the planet, I have a smoking hot wife, and those investors who could identify me in a series of real estate misdeeds have all disappeared within the past month or so. And that weird rash on my inner thighs has finally cleared up. So, nope. I think that I’m good.

I guess that I could pray for other people? Other people aren’t really my “thing”, but since I’m the President now, I guess that I’m supposed to think about them now? I hadn’t considered that, actually. Shit. Oh well, let’s give it a go… um… Okay, here’s one: I’d like to ask that Arnold Schwarzenegger gets better ratings on Celebrity Apprentice. I’m a hard act to follow, I get that. But c’mon… use some of your mystical mumbo jumbo and give his ratings a little bump, okay? Lord, that is to say, you, knows that he needs a win after that blabbermouth maid, and then that latest horrible Terminator movie. “I’ll be back?” Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure, buddy. Not looking so good.

If you do exist, then you should probably watch your back. I’m enjoying my early days of being the greatest President in the history of this country, but that won’t satisfy me for long. Then I’ll be coming for you. Your heart was in the right place, but I feel like I could do better. Give the universe a chance to be great again. Make a brand new planet for the rightful inheritors, and let the Mexicans and Muslims keep this dump.
Um… Good-bye? Oh, right… Amen.

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