LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

Today, I signed legislation to hold China accountable for its oppressive actions against the people of Hong Kong. It’s the first time anybody’s ever done anything like that. I did this myself, for the most part.

Prior to “Kung Flu” pouring in from China, they were having the worst year, you know, in 67 years. And I don’t want them to have a bad year; I want them to have a good year, but they were taking advantage of the United States for many, many years, and that’s stopping. Not a good situation.

In contrast, “Sleepy” Joe Biden’s entire career has been a gift to the Chinese Communist Party and to the calamity of…of errors that they’ve made. The do-nothing Democrats, they’ll say—and you just have to look at what took place in the 1930s when R2-FDR2 (mimics spastic arm movements as if struggling to maneuver a wheelchair) stopped putting America first. How’d that go for all those sailors shucking corn inside the U.S.S. Arizona? For the most part, not well at all. I know, because I’ve seen Pearl Harbor—terrific film. Jon Voight is true patriot.

Earlier in July—you may have noticed this if you kept a close eye on me during the OANN highlight package—earlier in July in Wyoming, at our record-breaking “Salute to America” event at Mt. Rushmore, I had trouble hiding my disgust at the thought of Roosevelt’s gap-toothed, squinty-eyed brother, Teddy, looking down his 21-foot nose at your current, favorite president. Other than “Lyin’ Ted” Cruz, is anyone less deserving being up there among the greats than “Telescope” Teddy? None that I can think of. And I’ve been right probably more than anybody else.

Magnificent fireworks, by the way, probably the biggest of all time, although nobody can give the exact count. We’re trying to get an exact count. But you have, over the years, many illegal fireworks who have come into the country, so it depends on how you want to count it. Still, though, an incredible display of firepower. We’ve—we’ve got now, soon—as it—all this equipment comes in, all made in the USA—we’ve got the newest, most incredible weapons anywhere in the world.  We have the best tanks, the best ships, the best missiles, rockets. And fireworks.

Patriotic displays, they’re one of the very big reasons—trade and things related to trade like fireworks—that I got elected in the first place. No doubt the fake news media will play this down, but I’ve been talking about fireworks for a long time, along with many other subjects, frankly.

And when the fireworks lit up the sky—incredible on so many levels, magnificent—and then Lt. Rettig and Midshipman Funkadelic Emporium launched into “Uptown Funk,” I look over to the Vice President and Mother, his wife, lovely woman, loyal, and what do I see? Tears. I see tears running from their eyes, both eyes, four total, and I ask myself, other than laying on the couch watching Hannity, is there any other place I’d rather be? Quid Pro Joe will never shed a patriotic tear. Ever. Unless someone forgets to bring him a glass of warm milk before his afternoon nap. And then just maybe.

Of course, low-rated Clinton News Network and MSDNC, amid all this pomp, all this circumstances, they couldn’t stop talking about the extremely low threat of wildfires. It’s a sickness, this negativity, as if the Ching-Chong-Chinaman flu carried to our shores on the backs of pigs and bats and high-tech employees didn’t just attack the immune system but also common sense. You’d think that troupe of low I.Q. clowns—Fredo, Crazy Mika, Sour Lemon—you’d think they never heard of water…or firetrucks…or hoses. All manned by patriots.

It’s sad—the failing news media, they’ll find a way to twist my words. Because that’s who they are—sick haters out to get yours truly, desperate to torpedo an administration that has done more for the American people than almost any administration in the history of our country. That’s their playbook, written by Nancy the Ripper and Pencil Neck Schiff.

Speaking of torpedos—and sad—I caught the new WW2 movie from no-talent Tom Hanks the other night. Not the Matt Damon coward one, the other one, newer, the one with the boats and oceans, Greystoke? What is it about this guy, thinking he can play a war hero when he can’t even fight off the Wuhan virus? I’ve seen French prize fighters named Jean Marie with more intestinal fortitude. Even gave it to his wife.

Don’t bother trying to see it in a theater. Even with multiplexes opening in record numbers across the country—numbers never before seen in the history of movies because we now lead the world in testing quality—it’s only on TV. You’d think Mr. Box of Chocolates would have the kind of clout to get his fancy action picture up on the big screen. Apparently not. Typical liberal flameout. Like Hillary. And that fascist gargoyle AOC.

And I watch this show—I call it “show” because a true “movie” plays in a real theater—and I think to myself: first off, where’s Melania and Baron ’cause I’m pretty sure they were in the room when I turned on the TV and, second: no wonder Hank doesn’t like me. He knows if I were President back in Hitler-time I would’ve dealt with that flatulent kraut-eater like I’m now dealing with China and Russia and the Border Wall, which goes six feet into the ground, deeper than any other wall in history, a rabbit’s nightmare. No quarter, no mercy.

So he knows—Hanks—if I’d been president back then, all his key roles, stuff he’s been dining out on for years—Ryan, Band of Bohemians, this TV thing—he’d still be running around in a dress on some failing TV sitcom! Which I’m sure gives his night terrors even worse than those rabbits.

The thing is, in the show Hanks is only just getting a command, which has me thinking: why just now? Why wasn’t he patrolling the seas back in the 1930s, sinking kraut ships? One word: untrustworthiness. Even his men don’t trust him. Lack of trust is fatal to power. Which is why I’ve done more with trust than any administration in history. When driving in your car, you look at the Intracostal in Florida. You look at the lakes. You see thousands of boats with Trump signs, American signs.  You’ve got the Trump-Pence sign all over. You look at what’s going on. You look at bikers, for miles and miles, riding up highways proudly with their signs.

I’ll be honest with you, not a big fan of Hanks. Giving this one a single star is generous, frankly. Probably closer to zero stars, especially if the rumors that Corrupt Joe was offered a cameo as an admiral are true, which I’m sure they are when you think Hanks is a bleeding-heart USA-hating liberal. Good news is, this movie will disappear quick. I’ll say it again, it’s going to disappear and I’ll be right.

For those looking for something four stars, look no further than the stock market. Things are coming back, and they’re coming back very rapidly—a lot sooner than people thought. People are feeling good about therapeutics and possible vaccines. It’s a great thing.  It’s an amazing thing. It is a gift to freedom. We can’t take freedom for granted. Even if it means taking up arms to defend our mansions from agitators and anarchists. Like that couple in St. Louis, true patriots, freedom understanders. Any talk of prosecuting them is a disgrace. They were going to be beat up badly, if they were lucky. And that their house was going to be totally ransacked and probably burned down, like they try to burn down churches.

So, listen to this: next year is going to be one of the best economic years.  So hopefully, I’ll be able to be the President where we say, “Look at the great job I did.”

Okay, a couple of questions, if it’s not too hot.