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Fantz in Your Pants: A nursery rhyme for old No. 45

This is what happens when a tiny problem balloons into a Dumpster fire

There was an old man who swallowed a fly. I don’t know why he swallowed a fly. Now his mouth is dry.

Then that proud boy swallowed a spider, it wriggled and wiggled and jiggled inside ‘em. He swallowed the spider to catch the fly. I don’t know why he swallowed a fly. Maybe he snorts lye?

Then agent orange swallowed a bird, how absurd to swallow a bird. He swallowed the bird to catch the spider whose job was to catch the fly. Why? He’s a bad guy.

Then that dumbshit swallowed a cat, fancy that to swallow a cat, he swallowed the cat to catch the bird who was supposed to catch the spider and its belly full of fly. Why, oh why, is he swallowing these guys? To watch them cry.

Then that old man swallowed a dog — what a hog, to swallow a dog — he swallowed the dog to catch the cat, who apparently didn’t catch the bird that was supposed to eat the spider. And that poor fly is still buzzing around his gut. I don’t know why he swallowed the fly. He must be high on lye.

Then that fool, he swallowed a cow, I don’t know how he swallowed a cow, but he swallowed the cow to catch the dog, he swallowed the dog to catch the cat, he swallowed the cat to catch the bird, he swallowed the bird to catch the spider, he swallowed the spider to catch the fly.

Now I know why he swallowed the fly. He swallowed the fly to brag to the guys.

“I’m very important. I’m bigger than them.”

Turns out “the guys” didn’t give a tiny shit.

Instead of letting the original problem disintegrate in Big Mac stomach acid, the orange-tinged buffoon resorted to more extreme measures by eating increasingly larger creatures. It was manageable at first, but has now ballooned into a Dumpster fire of digestion issues. Not to mention, murdered creatures.

How very Trump of him.

Remember that original old lady who swallowed the fly? I don’t know why she swallowed the fly, but she ended her creature feast by trying to swallow a horse.

That horse, of course, was such a force that it overpowered the old lady’s course. So she died.

The moral of this story is that they who lack leadership and sensibility often resort to extreme measures to solve problems.

Like No. 45 and his four years of swallowing flies. Adios, Double ImpeachMan. Don’t let my foot punch you in the ass on the way out. I have very large feet that can kick your tighty-whitey tennis short-shorts ass so far up Florida’s cavity that you get lodged between a set of walls where you’ll hang with the lizards who swallow the flies. Why, oh why do they swallow the flies? For sustenance and growth, moron. Not to brag about it.

Hopefully you’re done swallowing the little guys, you big dumb bully. Now go sit on the throne and dispel all those poor homies lodged in your gut and climb out of the lizard walls and into network television’s bed, as one does.

But stay away from the horse or it will scream inside you until its voice is hoarse. Although we’ll all ignore it because you’re no longer a force.

This nursery rhyme has been brought to you by quarantine insanity. Good talk.

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