We cats received our stupid stimulus letter from Benedict Donald today. We're mailing it back to him, slightly altered, as you can see.
Trump is worried about his re-election. But writing chirpy letters about a bipartisan coronavirus relief payment isn't going to erase the economic damage he's caused (which as we all know is the only thing he cares about). Fake accusations of sexual assault against Joe Biden aren't going to work, either. And white guys with weird beards and guns storming the Michigan state capitol won't enthrall crucial suburban voters (or the 85 percent of Americans who support stay-at-home laws).
So right now, Trump looks like toast. Should it continue that way — and we fervently hope it does — we still don't want him to forget the number of Americans who are dying on his watch. We cats HISS.
(PS: If you'd like to do the same with your chirpy letter, just do a Google search for "How many people have died from the coronavirus," scrawl that number on the letter with a big Sharpie, and then mail it back to The White House at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW, Washington, DC 20500. Thanks, and you're welcome.)
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