Alas, here within lies the final post to the Cool Companies weblog! Well, not quite. Just as a reminder to devoted readers, along with this post, there are only eight major installments to Cool Companies remaining! While I am sure that this revelation serves as a harbinger to immense sorrow and loss for many, do not fret. I am sure that numerous other high school students maintain the same high, albeit inconsistent, output as I. With this notice concluded, I may begin another rambling medley-style entry, which should prove quite enjoyable, if only for myself.
As the 2016 United States presidential election swiftly nears, one may grow frightful of a certain Donald Trump. Sporting hair more golden and flowing than the silk of fine corn, a scowl that would put the miserly likes of Scrooge McDuck’s namesake to shame, it’s Trumpman! He would indeed love for you, the average American voter, to believe that he is boundlessly wealthy and successful due to his shrewd skill at… Donald Trumping. Yes, he’s written a slew of books that have garnered reluctant smatterings of accolades, and he sells enough campaign merchandise to feed a small southern Chinese tenement of abused workers, but few know from whence Donald Trump derives his… Trumpiness. His conceited wealth. His feigned grandiose. His controlling share of Duckburg’s entire private sector. Fortunately, I happen to know the secret to Donald Trump’s despicable gains. Are you ready for the launch of the truth bomb?
Real estate.
Yes, seriously.
Donald Trump is not an exotic author or oil tycoon, or even the proprietor of Seaworld. Nay, Donald Trump is a real estate agent. However, where you talk to your local agent to flip a house, businesses talk to Frumpy Trumpy in order to establish hotels, resorts, and golf courses. How exciting, yes? Antonio Pasin was the Wagonmaker. Kirk Kristiansen was the purveyor of LEGO bricks. Elon Musk builds cars, rockets, and the future. And Donald Trump sells land. By which I mean, portions of the Earth’s surfaces that can be traced in ownership to European conquest.
May God bless America. We need it.
As the 2016 United States presidential election swiftly nears, one may grow frightful of a certain Donald Trump. Sporting hair more golden and flowing than the silk of fine corn, a scowl that would put the miserly likes of Scrooge McDuck’s namesake to shame, it’s Trumpman! He would indeed love for you, the average American voter, to believe that he is boundlessly wealthy and successful due to his shrewd skill at… Donald Trumping. Yes, he’s written a slew of books that have garnered reluctant smatterings of accolades, and he sells enough campaign merchandise to feed a small southern Chinese tenement of abused workers, but few know from whence Donald Trump derives his… Trumpiness. His conceited wealth. His feigned grandiose. His controlling share of Duckburg’s entire private sector. Fortunately, I happen to know the secret to Donald Trump’s despicable gains. Are you ready for the launch of the truth bomb?
Real estate.
Yes, seriously.
Donald Trump is not an exotic author or oil tycoon, or even the proprietor of Seaworld. Nay, Donald Trump is a real estate agent. However, where you talk to your local agent to flip a house, businesses talk to Frumpy Trumpy in order to establish hotels, resorts, and golf courses. How exciting, yes? Antonio Pasin was the Wagonmaker. Kirk Kristiansen was the purveyor of LEGO bricks. Elon Musk builds cars, rockets, and the future. And Donald Trump sells land. By which I mean, portions of the Earth’s surfaces that can be traced in ownership to European conquest.
May God bless America. We need it.