Driving south on the Taconic Parkway last night, about fifty miles north of New York City, we passed a brown state park sign that read: Donald J. Trump State Park. A true WTF moment, particularly when the next brown sign we passed, a minute or two later, was for Franklin D. Roosevelt (flash-in-the-pan presidential mediocrity and friend of Frederick Douglass, who people are saying burned down the White House) State Park, which is, unaccountably yet undeniably, an actual state part.
We were both shocked at the sign for the New York State Park named for our still-living celebrity president and, seeing another brown state park sign for WTF State Park after the exit for FDR State Park, actually pulled off the Taconic at Exit 14 to have a look. I hoped to snap a photo of the park sign with which to bait my hapless liberal friends.
There was no sign pointing in the direction of the park once we exited the parkway (for reasons you can instantly learn below) and, as it was dark black country night, we made a sideways loop on the deserted road and headed south again.
I texted a friend about the existence of this State Park and he wrote something to the effect that you can’t make this shit up.
Back home I consulted Jeevsie, in the form of Google, and got a result I immediately emailed to that same friend, who this time wrote: I see a pattern emerging.
Check it out for yourself, the jaunty punchline is very much worth the click and 1.2 second wait. You just need to scroll through the first few search result blurbs to learn most of the story. Wonderful, horrible shit.
Clickez HERE, s’il vous plait.
And God bless these United States, with a special tip of the cap to New York State and the very fine partisan (or collegial) imbeciles (some of the finest imbeciles, very, very fine imbeciles) who got this done for the indomitable, deal-making POTUS who has indelibly branded making your name a very fine brand, the finest brand, the classiest brand, the sexiest brand.
Only in America, folks.