Politics - News Analysis

Trump Full On Rages at ‘Broken Old Crow’ McConnell in His Nastiest and Meanest Statement Yet

Tell us how you really feel, Donnie.

Ever since Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell failed to lick Donald Trump’s boots in the aftermath of the Capitol riots, the former president has wanted his head on a pike. At every possible opportunity, Trump has slammed the Kentucky Senator for every slight, real or perceived.

In fact, after Mitch voted with the Democrats in order to pass President Biden’s infrastructure bill, Trump just about had an aneurysm.

But now that the Democrats are moving on to Biden’s “Build Back Better” bill, a social spending pact that would raise the amount that Dems have pumped into the US economy to $3 trillion this year, Trump is absolutely beside himself.

When is he not, right? But his rant this time was truly off the rails. At one point in the statement he just issued, Trump even celebrated the fact that inflation is “hitting [Americans] right in the face” because it makes Democrats look bad — and he says it’s Mitch’s fault.

After ranting about how terrible everything in America is under Joe Biden, Trump dug in his heels in his feud with McConnell:

This is the Broken Old Crow’s fault. He could have won it all using the Debt Ceiling—they were ready to fold. Now the Democrats have a big victory and the wind at their back. McConnell is a fool and he damn well better stop their ‘Dream of Communism Bill’ and keep his Senators in line, or he should resign now, something he should have done a long time ago. Use the Debt Ceiling like it should have been used, you Old Broken Crow, to do so would hurt our Country far less than this horrible Bill. Any Republican in the House or Senate who votes for this Bill will never ever get a Trump Endorsement. Thank you, and good luck!

In Trump’s twisted brain, the only purpose for being in government is to make sure your enemies fail. Maybe that’s why he failed so badly himself as president.

Andrew Simpson
meet the author

Andrew is a dark blue speck in deep red Southwestern Arizona, writing with the conviction of 17 years at the keyboard and too much politics to even stand. When not furiously stabbing the keys on breaking news stories, he writes poetry, prose, essays, haiku, lectures, stories for grief therapy, wedding ceremonies, detailed instructions on making doughnuts from canned biscuit dough (more sugar than cinnamon — duh), and equations to determine the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow. A wife, three kids, and a grandson round out the story, and in his spare time, Andrew loves to think about how nice it would be to have spare time.


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