It’s rumored that, when dining out, our current president has a penchant for sending back dishes, even in
his own restaurants, simply to impress whoever he’s dining with. There’s a story that’s made the
rounds through hospitality circles that Trump had taken some fellow businessmen to one of his New York
restaurants, and ordered French fries. When they came, he very matter of factly told the waiter they
weren’t good enough, and to take them back. He did this several more times. At a certain point, the
exasperated head chef sent someone out for Ora-Ida fries—the frozen kind. The kitchen thawed them out, and
gave them to Trump, who, with great satisfaction, announced that they were finally perfect.
The moral of the story is that while Trump only might be a criminal, he’s without a doubt the ultimate embodiment of the idea that money can’t buy taste. Here’s why…
The goddamn tie tape
People have tried to justify this. I still can’t.
The hopeless fake-tan raccoon eyes
Think about this: somewhere in the white house, there’s a tanning bed with the presidential seal on it.
The well-done steak
This is already crime enough. But he also smothers it in ketchup (probably catsup). Just maybe he wouldn’t need the catsup if he got his steak cooked in a way that didn’t turn it to coal dust with the first bite.
All the gold, everywhere
Maybe the most damning piece of evidence of Trump’s secret love of all things Russian is his shared affinity for tacky, gilded shit.
Trump University
Here's a contrarian's opinion: maybe Trump shouldn't have had to settle the lawsuit alleging he'd bilked people out of millions by claiming he'd teach them his business secrets. The fact that this institution of higher learning sent scores of people into financial ruin, with nothing to show for their efforts, makes me think he did an admirable job teaching them his own business strategies.
CAPS LOCK
As if he needed to remind us any more that he's essentially a high-born crazy uncle.
The steaks, the vodka, the ties
Have you ever tried any of these? Certainly not a second time.
The moral of the story is that while Trump only might be a criminal, he’s without a doubt the ultimate embodiment of the idea that money can’t buy taste. Here’s why…
The goddamn tie tape
People have tried to justify this. I still can’t.
The hopeless fake-tan raccoon eyes
Think about this: somewhere in the white house, there’s a tanning bed with the presidential seal on it.
The well-done steak
This is already crime enough. But he also smothers it in ketchup (probably catsup). Just maybe he wouldn’t need the catsup if he got his steak cooked in a way that didn’t turn it to coal dust with the first bite.
All the gold, everywhere
Maybe the most damning piece of evidence of Trump’s secret love of all things Russian is his shared affinity for tacky, gilded shit.
Trump University
Here's a contrarian's opinion: maybe Trump shouldn't have had to settle the lawsuit alleging he'd bilked people out of millions by claiming he'd teach them his business secrets. The fact that this institution of higher learning sent scores of people into financial ruin, with nothing to show for their efforts, makes me think he did an admirable job teaching them his own business strategies.
CAPS LOCK
As if he needed to remind us any more that he's essentially a high-born crazy uncle.
The steaks, the vodka, the ties
Have you ever tried any of these? Certainly not a second time.
