Ding a ling goes the phone; Who’s gonna take it?

Unwelcome Call.

Donald had Brad Raffensperger dangling on the line,
Demanding the ashen Secretary of State do the divine,
'Conjure those non-existent votes and make 'em mine,'
Even for Brad this is beyond the pale, way over the line.

Brad looks at the phone with a disbelieving look,
Don demands another term, by hook or by crook,
Don's delusion of grandeur look clearly text-book,
You can't find nuttin' no matter how hard you look.

Fact is, Don believes petty illegalities are of no never mind,
Fact is, he'll blithely deceive, though theres no votes to find,
Fact is the tape shows Donald's imagination runs unconfined,
Fact is, no votes to be found mean Don's lost his flippin' mind.

©Obbverse

Play time is all but over, but the tosser is still tossing his toys out of the playpen.

Mar-a-LaGoose Nursery Rhyme Time.

The clown is counting down the fading hours, his mood- none too sunny,
His spouse is confiding with her briefs, talk of divorce, acrimony- money,
He's made his tiny mind up to drag down Democratic ideals before he goes-
Pardon his bad, then he'll recast his ex-best GOP friends as his darkest foes.
‘Mitch McConnell? Brian Kemp? William Barr? I want a word.’

©Obbverse

Hey Don, the final tally is officially finally in… would you believe?

Out For The Count.

When Don won bigly in twenty sixteen
He swelled up with Ginormous pride,
Obviously his Huuuuuge win had been
A Democratically devastating landslide.

After four disastrous years finally we've seen
An end to Don's wildly whoopsy inducing ride,
Don's Crazy Clown Train Wreck's left US lookin' green,
But dark days are over now we can see Don's back side. 

‘Oh yeah, I’m a scarily crazy one.’

 

©Obbverse

Learnings to take from Electoral College; Some remain a little late on the uptake.

Punch That Ticket.

Well kiddies, school has played out at last,
These past four foolish years have painfully passed,
Now it's time for you dummies to wise up fast
Before you're forever classed amongst the dumb-assed.

The class clown has run out of time to run amok,
The idea of not being centre stage causing a nasty shock,
The ol' bone spurs have slowed down the cocky Jock?
Now not even his full Court press can stop the official clock.

Now that the leader of that MAGA hatter band
Must try to understand he is losing all sole command,
Perhaps a few will rise, principles cupped in hand
Stepping from the silent shadows to take a belated stand?

Agin a guy whose self beliefs lie towards the compulsive?
Whose vile denials truly do border on the sickly revulsive?
Why stay and placate a man so childishly impulsive?
Surely not all clad in Republican red are that repulsive?

Even as the road to reality continues to widen
Any fool  would concede the trail leads back to Biden...
If you must be part of the wreck Democracy died in
Buckle in, Bub- the Pity Party Bus will get rough to ride in.


 
‘And Mar-a-Lago is lovely this time of year, Melania says.’

 

©Obbverse

Don and Rudy spend 3 million bucks looking for votes and come up with zero return. Bad business, Don, a bad deal.

A Tilt At The Scales.

When Don- sadly!- came up seven million votes short-
The Base line is he's reliant on truly deplorable support-
It was time to go for recounts in every State he'd lost,
Saying to Rudy 'To hell with Democracy, and the cost.'

 Don found he was not just Greatly disappointed
To emerge from the big game Hugely outpointed,
It was a pain in the butt seeing he's drooping behind,
Getting a spanking really put his panties in a bind.

In Milwaukee County a recount brought forth the retort
That Donald's three million spend-up was all for naught,
Yet Don's Supremely confident post votes will be tossed,
Rudy agrees, but behind his back it's all fingers crossed.

Even an Amy-able Republican judge, someone Don anointed
Finds following Rudy's pretzel logic requires being triple-jointed,
She might praise Don to high Heaven but Justice must be blind 
And any  fool can see he's lost the big election, and his tiny mind.



“C’mon Amy, be a devil.”

©Obbverse

Lies, lies, hair dye and more damned lies. Rudy G roots out another dark dark mistruth.

The Incredible Sulk- Don't Make Him Madder! 

The president is a poor lost soul,
In two months he's bound to take a lesser role,
But that day is a long way away
And while he plagues this House the rat will play.

For if he accepts he'll have to quit-
And that'll take a bona fide miracle or legal writ-
He'll blame some deep state plot
Like QAnon's latest Ridickylous 'Believe It Or Not.'

Don wants to have losers! votes dismissed,
His lapdogs lawyers trot to court with a long long list,
Trials into next year are the long term goal,
Sadly, Judges dismiss 'em all with a quick eye roll. 

Don's crusty lawyer ain't doin' so GreaT,
Bald faced lying while hair dye runs down his pate,
He only wants Don's the truth to be discerned,
So, as is his nature, Rude won't leave no rock unturned.

SciFi Fantasies are fu  fogging up Don's days,
His is a single minded focus that borders on malaise,
With quarter of a million voters certified dead
Who hopes Don takes a kick breath to clear his head?
No sweat, Donny me boy!

From tweeting with the stars in prime time to begging for re-runs in the Fall schedule.

A Real Tear Jerking Soap Opera.

Ever since blow-dry Don woke post election day
The Golden Boy's looked washed out and gray,
And though he will not go quietly into the night
To see this ass silver fox turn tail is a welcome sight.

What happened to our old gold Don Juan Don?
A cold reality shows his brash charm has gone,
And after four seasons his shit show is simply trying
And his is a stinker of a final act, ain't no denying?

Don's lost his "Suburban Housewives' Choice" popular vote,
This poor actors star turn is done, and that's all she wrote,
He's lost his gloss, he's now less desirable than Charlie Sheen,
Our Greatest li'l boy lost burnt-out washed-up broken down big time small screen has-been.

©Obbverse

Slowly the lights go on in the dim and gloomy White House.

Something's Going Off.

When the early election votes rolled in
Vainglorious Donald could not hold off,
It was a result he alone had no doubt in
So he prematurely started to spout off.

He'd felt a winner, right from the run in,
He'd never seen his term as just a one-off
And when Don's on a roll, don't dare butt in,
Like the polls Don has no automatic shut off. 

Oh, but what a dark day Don did waken in,
In the wee wee hours Sleepy Joe had taken off,
Since those blue post-its have begun to weigh in
Don demanded those accountable take the day off.

Now Don tossed every (ill)legal appeal in-
Forget due process, Don wants this deal off,
His base vote's left a hole big enough to piss in
And suddenly he's getting a democratic kiss off.

In Arizona and Nevada, states he gets flipped in
Don is sweating, steaming and feeling ripped off,
He'd been hoping for a red-hot Southwestern love-in,
Now even Sweet  Jesus Georgia's telling him to shove off.

From right to left, the tide and vote drifts in
Till Don's glowering towering rhetoric lifts off,
Language a drunken sailor would take delight in-
Don's script writers hear a screw up, a total write off.

Donald is in the White House and he's staying in-
It looks like finding that ol' safe room's paying off-
Ain't no better hidey-hole to hold out and obstruct in
Though millions have told him it's time he fucked off.

Where’s Whacky?

 

©Obbverse


	

Counting down the days till Christmas… and beyond. Somehow it kinda feels like holidays already.

Best Presents EVER.

We'll non-too-soon be seeing the end of Trump/Pence
Although Donald insists on living in the past tense,
His denying of fact, lack of tact and simple common sense
Means Don's childish tanTrumps still cause offence.

Forget fighting Covid, Don's focusing on firing off viral comments
And fragging his frazzled looking Secretary of Defence,
Don has sworn- loudly- he'll not spare one single donors expense
On recounting and courting his Supreme justice nonsense.

So though it's early, let's now let our Thanksgivings commence,
On till Christmas Eve fill the air with carols, joy and frankincense,
Then roll on January, when ends a reign of dumb ignorance,
Then we can all look forward to cool calm and quiet competence.




©Obbverse