My Trump Necktie

About eight or ten years ago, when Trump was only a fake television tycoon and before he became a fake emperor, I bought one of his branded neckties on sale. At 50% off it was reasonably priced. It was red, of course.

It was like any other necktie I owned, except that in true Donald fashion he had affixed a huge, ersatz gold TRUMP medallion to the thing, tacky and gaudy.

Partly because I recoil at the notion I should pay somebody to advertise on their behalf, and partly because the bauble was so big, cheaply made, and had sharp edges, I quickly shucked the thing off and threw it out before it could further injure my shirt or my sensibilities. Otherwise, the tie was decent enough and saw its fair share of use.

So it was with mixed emotions that I came home from work one evening to be greeted by Bennie the Shih Tzu, dozens of red threads hanging from his giddy grin. He’d obviously been having a very good time, the evidence of which was all over the house. My days of wearing anything Trump branded were over.

One of the last chewed-up remnants that I discovered was part of a tag upon which could be seen “RUMP Made in China”. I’ve kept it as a memento.

To this day, whenever I hear the Donald braying about China’s perfidy, my mind goes back to that little shredded tag: “RUMP Made in China”. Sorry, Donnie, I still can’t take you seriously.

Similar Posts

  • Blame Someone!

    Life sucks, doesn’t it? There’s never enough of the good things, and always too many of the bad things. Income is too low, expenses are too high. Even the weather is mostly lousy. What’s a grown man or woman to do? Frankly, it’s time for a good old-fashioned tantrum. That’s it – let’s just lie…

  • Le Boss des Bécosses

    Canadian French is such a lovely, lively language, free from the stuffiness of Continental French, and attached at the hip with Canadian English, itself also a work in progress. And there is no better example of the creativity of the language than boss des bécosses. Bécosse in Canadian French is literally a backhouse, or outhouse,…

  • Doc

    My dear old Dad made it to just past 102. His mind stayed sharp until the last year or two, and even then he could still carry on an interesting conversation. But because he slept so much and his dreams were so vivid, the boundary between reality and imagination became blurred. Really blurred. One evening…

  • Th Fnny Thng

    The human mind is an amazing thing, and we don’t give ourselves enough credit. Take something as simple as reading and understanding text. In our English speaking world we take for granted that sounds can be transliterated into phonemes formed by (more or less) predictable combinations of letters, that the phonemes can be jammed together…