Don’t mess with perfection
It’s ok though, Trump has a brilliant defense.
I JUST GOT IMPEACHED FOR MAKING A PERFECT PHONE CALL!
— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) January 16, 2020
Oh well never mind then.
A perfect phone call! Dialed it and spoke and stuck the landing on the hangup too. Just 10s across the board!
Usually, the Russian judge gives low marks to American competitors, but not this time. https://t.co/efPWp3mPq6
— Kevin M. Kruse (@KevinMKruse) January 16, 2020
This reminds me of the time I so nearly made the perfect phone call but then at the last minute I illegally pressured the Ukrainian President to dig up dirt on a rival or lose out on military aid and I blew it. https://t.co/e4WWYrRWVi
— David Schneider (@davidschneider) January 16, 2020
The only perfect phone call I ever heard was when one of my kids was a toddler on his play phone:
"Hello?"
"Puppies!"
"Goodbye."
— Ryan Teague Beckwith (@ryanbeckwith) January 16, 2020
Remember, on the “perfect” phone call with Zelensky, Trump told the Ukrainian president Yovanovitch was “bad news,” adding “She’s going to go through some things.” https://t.co/39bSMX5Q4F
— Jim Sciutto (@jimsciutto) January 15, 2020
He was impeached a month ago, but I guess he forgot.
“He was impeached a month ago”
Apparently he’s not formally impeached until the articles are delivered to the Senate.
Trump should look on the bright side. If he gets impeached, found guilty if treason and jailed for life, they might supply him with paper and pencils so he can write memoirs and stuff to wile away the hours, days, years and decades.
That would give him enough solitude to write a book entitled ‘How to Make the Perfect Phone Call’. Should sell millions, with publishers and translators brawling in the street for the rights.
But then again, maybe not. Worth a try though. But then again, maybe not. Still, it’s the thought that counts. But then again, maybe not.
They would need to give him crayons. And he would need to have a haunted cell so he would have a ghost writer.
Have some mercy, iknklast. The poor ghost would think it’s suddenly been sent to Hell when that orange monster stepped through the door.