As I watch the Olympics, I get a strange sense of emptiness. It’s not because of the economics of it all, nor is it because of the commercialization. I’m not some pinko commie, my dudes. And yet I can’t help but think that something is missing. It was the same feeling I had when I was buying steak once — as in, “Sure, yeah. This is perfectly good steak. But still… It doesn’t have Donald Trump’s face on it.”
It is well known that the deranged former reality TV star/current leader of the free world can make anything and everything about himself:
17 of my classmates are gone. That’s 17 futures, 17 children, and 17 friends stolen. But you’re right, it always has to be about you. How silly of me to forget. #neveragain https://t.co/i6Hldlo0Aq
— Aly Sheehy Ⓥ (@Aly_Sheehy) February 18, 2018
The question is, why stop at the little things?
Yeah, we all love luge (mostly because it is so much fun to say “luge”) and we especially love the breathless sexual tension of ice dancing.
But, really, in our hearts, we all love Trump so much more than anything else. And not just because we will soon be constitutionally mandated to proclaim our love daily, in public, lined up in t-shirts that read “TRUMP HAS A BIG DICK” as we wait for our daily rations and see which ones of us will be chosen to get hunted for sport by members of the .0001% Golf And Country Club that will soon replace Congress.
What I’m saying is — we need a Trumplympics. We don’t want to end up in a situation where dear leader suddenly realizes that there is a regular event that’s not all entirely about him. Think of how many innocent athletes will be fed to his wig if that occurs.
“Oh but Natalia,” you are saying. “What the hell would one do at a Trumplymics? Besides drink a lot and desperately search for ketamine in order to make reality disappear?”
Fear not. I’ve got this covered (but please bring the ketamine anyway).
At the Trumplympics, we will have:
Wig-combing
Kind of like curling, but with more of a point to it. The wigs will all be made from the soft and poignantly angelic hair of economically disadvantaged Eastern European teenagers.
Fake News Hockey
Kind of like actual hockey, but instead of pucks we will just use CNN employees. When those run out, we can start with failing New York Times people.
Figure judging
Kind of like figure skating, but participants will just get yelled at a lot about how they’re “NOT A TEN” and “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I ASSAULTED YOU, YOU NEED TO BE AT LEAST A NINE FOR ME TO DO THAT AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN A NINE EITHER.”
Fucking over future generations
A sport reserved exclusively for aging male politicians. I’m not going to say it’s kind of like ski jumping, because instead of actual people on skis being launched into the skies, it will just be greenhouse gases, alongside balloons that read, “FUCK YOU” and “I’LL BE DEAD SOON” and “THE THOUGHT OF YOU BEING DEAD SOON TOO OFFERS ME SWEET RELEASE.”
Predatorthon
Kind of like biathlon, except instead of combining cross-country skiing and rifle shooting, this sport will combine walking brusquely and importantly in and out of young girls’ dressing rooms while wearing Louis Vuitton sneakers (strictly Monogram canvas) with forcefully bumping into people and knocking them down and continuing to walk. Bonus points for knocking down child cancer survivors and anyone vaguely immigrant-looking.
Pairs Thoughts and Prayers
I’m not entirely sure how this one will work — I’m lazy, OK? And seeing as we are all doomed, I enjoy being lazy these days — but it is included on this list because now that some people are rebelling against empty platitudes in the face of a gun violence epidemic, it’s important to use the buddy system.
Photo: Gage Skidmore/Creative Commons