Okay, listen up all you so-called "reporters." I'm gonna tell you the f***ing truth about what happened after Barry's State of the Union.
I'd agreed to give this so-called "reporter," this f**king asshole (I mean, a**hole), an interview. To talk about the president's speech, you know? The president's speech...not some bull***t, trumped up allegations of my so-called campaign finance "irregularities."
Well, as you can plainly see from the video, this little, ethics-challenged twerp in his hundred-dollar suit, that f***ing J.C. Penneys' "business" shirt, that piece-of-s*** tie, broke our agreement. (By the way, did you happen to catch my tangerine Salvatore Ferragamo neckwear? Now, that's stying.) Anyway, the little f*** has the nerve to ask me, an ex-Marine, a former FBI agent, a f***ing member of the f***ing Congress of the United States of America, a question that he knew was "off-limits."
What could I do? I had to put the little s**t in his place, right? I mean, I'm a f***ing role model. What kind of message would it have sent to kids across this land if I'd just walked away? I'm a man, after all.
Okay, maybe I could have gone a little lighter on the f***s, but I got the f***ing message across, right? (You see his eyes when I lit into him? Scared the s**t out of him. Ha ha ha ha ha. Gawd, I love that moment!)
Now, you've probably seen a lot of b.s. claims that by threatening to throw the dickwad off the balcony or breaking him in half I committed a "felony." Bulls**t! We're talking misdemeanor, at best.
And I'd like to see someone charge me, I really would. What kinda message would that send our kids? 'Specially all the boys out there. Who, after all, are just learning what it takes to be a real man.
I'd agreed to give this so-called "reporter," this f**king asshole (I mean, a**hole), an interview. To talk about the president's speech, you know? The president's speech...not some bull***t, trumped up allegations of my so-called campaign finance "irregularities."
Well, as you can plainly see from the video, this little, ethics-challenged twerp in his hundred-dollar suit, that f***ing J.C. Penneys' "business" shirt, that piece-of-s*** tie, broke our agreement. (By the way, did you happen to catch my tangerine Salvatore Ferragamo neckwear? Now, that's stying.) Anyway, the little f*** has the nerve to ask me, an ex-Marine, a former FBI agent, a f***ing member of the f***ing Congress of the United States of America, a question that he knew was "off-limits."
What could I do? I had to put the little s**t in his place, right? I mean, I'm a f***ing role model. What kind of message would it have sent to kids across this land if I'd just walked away? I'm a man, after all.
Okay, maybe I could have gone a little lighter on the f***s, but I got the f***ing message across, right? (You see his eyes when I lit into him? Scared the s**t out of him. Ha ha ha ha ha. Gawd, I love that moment!)
Now, you've probably seen a lot of b.s. claims that by threatening to throw the dickwad off the balcony or breaking him in half I committed a "felony." Bulls**t! We're talking misdemeanor, at best.
And I'd like to see someone charge me, I really would. What kinda message would that send our kids? 'Specially all the boys out there. Who, after all, are just learning what it takes to be a real man.