The Constitution Isn’t Into Threesomes.

Third Terms Are for Dictators, Not Donalds

You know what no one needs…

No one needs a third spin on that sketchy carnie-run Gravitron ride that looks like it’s being held together by wishful thinking, chewing tobacco and pure spite. No one needs a third awkward handshake-hug with that weird-ass coworker who always smells faintly of hot dogs and gasoline.

No one needs a third shot of tequila before school drop-off, a third accidental grab of their mother-in-law’s naked ass or a third sniff of Steve Bannon’s neck fold cheese. No one needs a third encounter at 1:00 in the morning with that Quick Check cashier with the dead eyes and the disturbingly long pinky nail.

No one needs three “just the tip” requests in one night, three dildos in the same drawer that are all the same size, or three nipples on a man named Greg.

No one needs a third “Let’s circle back on this” email from your boss at 4:59 p.m. on a Friday, a third playthrough of Nickelback’s Greatest Hits or a third unsolicited dick pic from that guy who think his “angle” changes anything…

And no one, literally NO ONE needs a third Trump term. Lord knows we didn’t need a first (we barely survived a first), we sure as fuck didn’t need a second and unless we have a collective kink for rolling the dice on preventable death and disease by once again putting our country in the hands of an angry orangutan in the midst of an acid trip, we DO NOT NEED A THIRD.

Not only do we not NEED one, thanks to this little thing we call the CONSTITUTION, he can’t have a third term.

But, here we fucking go anyway, diving headfirst into the molten lava pit of absurdity that is Donald J. Trump’s latest authoritarian-curious Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs “King Me” craziness.

Yes, the man, the melon-hued myth, the legend in his own goddamn mind who looks like a microwaved creamsicle with unresolved daddy issues is now publicly toying with the idea of a third term. A THIRD TERM. Because apparently, two terms of chaos, corruption, and incompetence just weren’t enough for the bloated sack of hot-car Velveeta and grievance.

History is full of iconic threes: The Three Stooges. The Three Musketeers. The three times Taco Bell has single-handedly destroyed your digestive system in one night. And now, Trump wants to join the list with a third term that nobody semi-sane has asked for. What’s next? Are we going to give him a crown and a scepter while he waddles around Mar-a-Lago declaring himself Supreme Overlord of Spray Tan Nation? Because that’s where this shit is headed.

Even if this was a thing (it’s not), this fucker doesn’t deserve a third term, a second chance, or even a goddamn library card. And no, he’s not “joking” when he floats this crap, because let’s face it—Trump doesn’t joke. Humor requires timing, self-awareness, and at least two brain cells rubbing together, none of which he possesses.

And I hear lots of folks out there saying “this is just a distraction from “Signalgate”, and to them I say this:

I wish this were just some harmless fantasy cooked up in the rust-colored recesses of his muddled & macerated “mind”. But it’s not. This is a full-blown, authoritarian fever dream from a guy who looks like he fell face-first into a vat of expired self-tanner. And no, this isn’t “Trump being Trump” or some kind of hyperbolic joke. This is a man who has spent his entire career testing boundaries, seeing what he can get away with, and exploiting every crack in the system for his own gain. It’s not a joke; it’s a trial balloon. He’s floating the idea to see how much his cult-like base will let him get away with, and history shows us that they’ll probably cheer him on.

History has shown us time and time again that when leaders refuse to step down, democracy crumbles. Look at dictators throughout history—whether it’s Mussolini, Stalin, or any number of modern-day autocrats—one of the first signs of a collapsing democracy is the erosion of term limits.

And unfuckingfortunately we have to talk about this stupid shit because once again with this clown, it directly undermines one of the most fundamental safeguards of American democracy: the peaceful transfer of power. The Founding Fathers, for all their flaws, understood the dangers of concentrated power. They had just fought a war to free themselves from the grip of a monarchy, and they were determined not to let one man dominate the government the way King George III had ruled over the colonies. The Constitution was designed with checks and balances to prevent any single individual from becoming too powerful, and the 22nd Amendment, ratified in 1951, was a direct response to Franklin D. Roosevelt’s unprecedented four terms in office. Even though FDR was immensely popular and led the country through the Great Depression and World War II, lawmakers recognized that allowing one person to hold the presidency for too long was a recipe for authoritarianism. The 22nd Amendment made it crystal clear: no one can be elected president more than twice. Not “if they feel like they deserve it,” not “if their supporters scream loud enough,” not “if they throw a tantrum and refuse to leave.” It’s a hard, non-negotiable NO.

This sure as shit isn’t the “Have It Your Way” menu at Burger King where you can pick and choose what you like and toss the rest in the trash. It’s the goddamn backbone of our government, and it explicitly limits the presidency to two terms for a reason. The Founders weren’t sitting around in powdered wigs thinking, “You know what we need? A spray-tanned con man with a God complex running the show forever.” They knew power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. And let’s face it, Trump is the poster child for that shit. If power were a Whopper, he’d be double-fisting it with extra cheese, no napkins, and zero shame.

Trump doesn’t give a single soggy fucking French fry about the Constitution. His understanding of it is so shallow, he probably thinks the 22nd is a hole on some super secret golf course for sociopaths where beautiful women line up to give blow jobs for free.

His “understanding” of the Constitution is so shallow it makes a kiddie pool look like the Mariana Trench. He probably thinks “checks and balances” are something you do at a cash register when buying “groceries” with the rest of the peasant class.

The sheer absurdity of this suggestion is matched only by the jaw-dropping audacity of the man making it. Trump hasn’t even finished screwing up THIS term..

The economy is in such bad shape it looks like it’s been ghosted by capitalism itself. Inflation is rising faster than his blood pressure when someone explains how windmills work. Jobs are vanishing quicker than his staffers at the sight of a subpoena. Consumer confidence is tanking so hard it’s applying for unemployment. Even Canada, our polite upstairs neighbor, has officially ghosted us like we showed up drunk to brunch and started ranting about how maple syrup is for pussies so Trump is gonna “make Aunt Jemima great again”. And let’s not forget Greenland—it’s still not for sale, no matter how many times he’s tried to grab it by the fjords like some kind of Mad-hatter Monopoly player on meth.

This is the guy who thinks he deserves more time in office? The man who tried to Sharpie a hurricane path into existence? The guy who stared directly at a solar eclipse like it owed him money? The same dude who wanted to nuke hurricanes and suggested injecting motherfucking bleach?

It’s like hiring the arsonist who burned down your house to come back and install your new smoke detectors. Trump asking for a third term is like a chef burning your steak, serving it raw, and then demanding a Michelin star. It’s like your dog eating your homework and then demanding tenure at your school. It’s not just ridiculous—it’s comedy gold, except the punchline is our democracy.

Now, for those of you MAGA moron fucksticks who might need a civics refresher (so, all of you), let’s talk about the 22nd Amendment.

It’s not a suggestion. It’s not a “guideline.” It’s the law. It says, in no uncertain terms, that “no person shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice.” Period. End of story. There’s no fine print, no secret clause, no “unless you really, really want to” exception. But Trump, being Trump, looks at the Constitution the way he looks at his taxes: something to ignore, cheat, or rewrite if it gets in his way.

Let me break it down for you in terms even a Trump rally attendee can understand: NO. HE CAN’T HAVE A THIRD TERM. The Constitution says no. The Founding Fathers say no. Hell, even your drunk uncle who posts all-caps Facebook rants about “HUNTER BIDEN’S DICK” would probably say no if he could stop yelling about gas prices for five fucking seconds.

Trump doesn’t want a third term because he loves America. He wants a third term because he loves himself. He doesn’t give a shit about you, your family, or your future. He cares about power, money, and the endless adoration of people who would probably let him steal their wallets if he promised to sign them afterward. And if you’re still supporting this nonsense, congratulations—you’re officially the political equivalent of a guy investing his life savings in Blockbuster stock while boarding the Hindenburg with a suitcase full of fireworks.

So no, Cheeto Benito, you don’t get to rewrite the fucking rules like some Dollar Store Putin because your fragile ego can’t handle not being the center of attention. We get it—you saw a shirtless Vlad riding a horse and thought, “Why can’t I have that kind of power?” Well, here’s a hint: it’s because you’re a whiny, third-rate wannabe dictator who can’t even manage to hold onto a casino, let alone a country.

And to the Qrackheads: maybe stop drooling and dry humping innocent sectionals over his authoritarian fan fiction and ask yourselves why you’re so eager to bow down to a guy who’d sell you out for a Diet Coke and five seconds of airtime.

If you’re gonna worship a despot, at least pick one who doesn’t look like a traffic cone with a shitty combover. Step away from your boat parades and your conspiracy forums long enough to crack open the Constitution you claim to worship. Spoiler alert: it’s not written in crayon, and you don’t get to cherry-pick the parts that make you feel patriotic while ignoring the rest.

The rest of us are fucking done cleaning up after this bloated, orange disaster every time you let him play dictator for dummies. Maybe next time, try getting your education from an actual book instead of the back of a tin of fucking Skoal.

And as an aside, just so we’re crystal fucking clear here, I’m not gonna let the the Felon-In-Chief threatening to further break the Constitution by seeking a “third term” distract me from the fact that his “National security” team shared plans to bomb Yemen on an unsecured group chat they added a reporter to in advance of the mission.

Not a fucking chance.

I love you guys! Stay safe, stay strong, stay the fuck away from Steve Bannon’s neck folds.

And with that, today’s song:

💙Jo