Dear Mr. Baldwin

March 20, 2016

Dear Mr. Baldwin,

As you know, a Trump presidency is now a sure thing, therefore changes will be forthcoming, and we know you seniors don’t like change. As of next November, the Obamacare death squad will have a new name and logo.

Introducing: Trumpnocare! Sick? Trumpnocare! Need surgery? Trumpnocare! For anything you need and won’t get, try Trumpnocare!

Oh, Mr. B., we know everything about you, you naughty man. You write those hateful, disgraceful, “satirical” posts on Facebook. You lust after women. You sit and watch basketball with your hands in your pants. Last month alone, you wrote the words “vagina” and “pussy” thirty-one times—and it was a Leap Month!

For chump change (soon to be called Trump change), you make fun of good, honest Republicans like Carly and Sarah and Ben and Rick P. and Rick S. and beloved Ill Gov. Rauner and Old Turtleface Mitch C. and Henry the K. Keep it up (no pun intended), Genehouse. Come November, you will be Trumpeted! Put that in your cigarette hole and smoke it!

Just what the heck is “Trumpeted?” Write on, that Commie crap you espouse, and you’ll find out, Vagina Boy.

You are sitting at your computer right now. You are staring out the west window at the cornfield. How do we know? See that glint in the woods, past the white barn? That is a Trump sniper’s rifle, Mr. Pussy Palaver, and there is a Trump bullet with your name on it. Ewing Eugene Baldwin, Jr. (What kind of name is “Ewing?” Hm. Ewe—sheep—baahh—hm.)

Why wouldn’t you conform, Ewing? Why be salacious, Eugene, when First Lady Ivania Trump set the example for modesty by posing naked with her hand over her—.  Why not write good wholesome humor, Geno, like the Donald saying he’d like to sleep with his daughter? You pervert! You pulsatile puckfist!

Not to worry, Mr. B., your Trump organs will be donated to a Trump sausage factory and your ashes will be placed in a Trump urn and buried in Trump Cemetery in Trumpalton on Trump Street under a Trump pine with Trump wind rattling your bones and a Trumptombstone to mark your Trump death.

Happy Trump spring!


Brittany Spears Mint

Director Emeritus, Seniors: Adios Lazy Shriveled Atrophying Asses (SALSAA) Division The Obamacare Death Panel, Now Director, Adios Lazy Shriveled Atrophying Asses Donald Is Coming Kiddies (SALSAA DICK)






About Eugene Jones Baldwin

I am a writer: non-fiction, fiction, journalism (Alton Telegraph), essays (The Genehouse Chronicles) and have a website: I've published a couple dozen short stories and had eleven plays produced. Current projects: "Brother of the Stones" (available on Kindle), a book of short stories; "The Faithful Husband of the Rain, short stories"; "A Black Soldier's Letters Home, WWII,;" "There is No Color in Justice," a commentary on racism; "Ratkillers," a new play. I am an avocational archaeologist and I take parts of my collection of several thousand Indian artifacts (personal finds) to schools, nature centers, libraries etc. and talk about the 20,000 year history of The First people in Illinois. (See link to website) I'm also a playwright (eleven plays produced), musician, historian (authority on the Underground Railroad in Illinois, the Tuskegee Airmen) and teacher.
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