A Running Gag

You have to give credit where credit is due. He has a definite vise like grasp of the absurd.

That image you saw of his attorney pretending to be a deer in the headlights as his client wandered off into outer space was almost worth the price of admission. While we cannot see inside the courtroom, once Donald Trump is outside its confines we are treated to a first row seat as to exactly what is rumbling around in the vacant space theoretically occupied by a brain.

Yesterday was no exception. The man who has promised to provide his tax returns as soon as Jupiter aligns with Mars, who has threatened to testify at so many of his trials and tribulations that he should be permanently cast as the boy in the "he who cried wolf" saga, has now unloaded a doozy on us. He has advised the ill informed and illiterate that the mean man presiding over his New York City style execution has prohibited him from opening his bouche in the courtroom. The gag order, he says, means he cannot tell his lies under oath.

This is a most highly inventive distortion of the scope of punishment for the numerous indiscreet remarks tumbling out of his head. In reality,  Donald Trump has an inalienable right to perjure himself in court and it is but his own counsel who has stuck a sock in the mouth that snored. 

Maybe Mr. Trump understands a gag order to be a mandate that he make inappropriate jokes about the long arm and short fuse of the law.  

Donald, we're not laughing.