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Trump Dreams of Firetrucks: Today in Tweets

Only white dudes (and dogs) are allowed on the Trump Truck!

By David Futrelle

In today’s Tweetpile: Stephen Miller takes on the tired and poor, Trump tries to pay attention in meetings, white people convince themselves that black people get to go to college for free, and some record-breaking polls for the Trumpster!

This tweet is the start of a pretty amazing thread:

And now the Philosophical Stumper of the Day:

65 replies on “Trump Dreams of Firetrucks: Today in Tweets”


I, um, may have accidentally done a handstand on a bee once (well you wouldn’t do it on purpose).

This makes you sound really tiny!

has anyone here ever stepped on a bee?

Bees and wasps. I just stick my foot in some mud and it feels better instantly.

50% of my childhood was my parents trying to get me to wear shoes. My mother would describe the gruesome details of death by lockjaw to me. Didn’t work.

My sister was worse. She would wear super long jeans so she could be barefoot at school.

@Viscaria the Cheese Hog

Thanks! She’s one of the two main loves in my life! She needs a vet visit though, I’m pretty sure she has a UTI. 🙁

I have been told I have “hobbit feet”. Not hairy, but very wide and very short, with very short stubby toes.

My son inherited his father’s feet – slender and elegant.

In other news, did everyone see the transcripts from Drumpf’s pathetic begging calls to Mexico and Australia?

They are comedy gold. Such a strong negotiator! /sarcasm

has anyone here ever stepped on a bee?

Yes, when I was six. I don’t remember much about it, except that my parents were having a dinner party and we had been told not to get out of bed. So, each time I sent my three year old sister downstairs to get my mum, she got sent straight upstairs again without being able to explain the issue. I don’t know how many times I sent her, but it was more than two. Oh the parental guilt when someone finally came to investigate!

@ Pavlovs House

You’re welcome! I suspect “of the United States” was dropped for songwriting reasons.

I, um, may have accidentally done a handstand on a bee once (well you wouldn’t do it on purpose).

This makes you sound really tiny!

🙂 very ordinary-sized.

(the bee was on the grass (all unbeknownst to me) (probably interested in the clover with which the grass was interspersed), the handstand was performed on the grass (in blithe and carefree manner – at first), the twain that didn’t ought to have met ever ever ever unfortunately got superposed and the result was … quite painful. (The bee may have escaped with its life, though, as it was one of those solitary ones and I think they can survive inflicting a sting, unlike t’other kind))

I’ve never stepped on a bee, but once when I was a kid I was playing catch with my dad in a baggy t-shirt. A bee flew up my sleeve while I had my arms up and I didn’t notice. So I put my arm down and the bee freaked out at being squished and stung me in the armpit. That was not fun.

I’ve headbutted a wasp. Was buzzing around, annoying me. Long day, not in the mood. Got too close to my face, and, half malice half reflex, I smashed it with my forehead. Hurtled to the sidewalk. I can’t remember if I crushed it after, was too stoked 😀

Once, during a fire drill when I was in elementary school, a bee flew up my pant leg. I reflexively swatted at my leg…and effectively stung myself.

When I was in kindergarten, there was a bee on the swing I was on. When I put my arms down, I accidentally squished it and it stung me. The stupid thing was that I knew the bee was there. I’m not sure what I was thinking.

I recently stepped on a giant hornet.

When I was riding in the car with my brother last winter, I was wearing a jacket. At one point while waiting around to get waved past some roadwork, I adjusted my sleeve because I felt like one of the hairs on my arm got pulled by the fabric.

Suddenly I feel the same thing, only way worse… again and again, and after another second my arm feels like I’ve been burnt with metal. I yank the jacket off, and a wasp flies out from the sleeve. Turns out the little fucker stung me like three or four times. I let him fly out the window, though.

…really had the urge to kill it, though…

I have stepped on a bee. It was already dead, but still stung me. I have also stepped on a nest of enraged wasps, which was much less fun. Someone else had stepped on it, angering them, and I couldn’t hear their warnings over the waterfall we were observing. My shirt filled with wasps and I was stung on what felt like every square inch of skin between my neck and my waist. Very glad I was wearing tightly belted trousers.

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