What a whirlwind election season this has been. Emails, geographically challenged libertarians, egg mcmuffins, emails, walls, talking oranges (No not that one), and more emails. Also deplorables and nasty women. And probably more emails.
And to what end? We voted for the Orange. A sneaky Orange with bad hair.
But why is he orange? What is he trying to hide? Lizard skin? An unsightly mole? That weird skin disease Michael Jackson had?
The truth lies behind that infamous wall. He's trying to keep out Mexicans because they know him for what he truly is: one of them. That's right, Trump is Mexican and ashamed of it.
The question of why is anyone's guess. The outrage is not. Donald promised that if we elected Secretary Clinton, there would be a taco truck on every corner. Trump being Mexican means that he is easily more qualified to deliver on this promise, but he's holding out on us.
Where are our taco trucks, Donald? That wasn't in your 100 day plan that I definitely bothered to read. We want food truck tacos. After all, they're made of mysterious things, will probably cause a lot of distress in our near future, but we don't care because it seems yummy and it's a change from the lunchables we've been eating every day for years. By all accounts, this should be right up your alley. They're even often family run.
We need to demand that the President Elect reveal is birth certificate, embrace his Mexican heritage, and give us the food trucks we deserve. Make America taco again!
This is our new birther movement! Our rebirth, if you will. Wait, that may be too positive. The afterbirther movement! You know, that ugly red-orange stuff that comes after. Do yourself a favor and keep that taco down by not Googling it.
I'm really sorry to Mexicans by associating you with Donald Trump. I'm also sorry for that Annoying Orange link at the top. And in 30 minutes, I'll be sorry I ate all of those tacos.
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