JoJo

  

Trump Thinks You’re Fucking Stupid

So the question is… are you?

JoJoFromJerz Nov 17

 

 

They think you are fucking stupid.

Not regular stupid.

Not the “forgot your password again” stupid.

No.

They think you are fisting-a-beehive stupid, wandering-into-traffic stupid, should-not-be-allowed-to-microwave-soup-without-supervision stupid.

That’s the whole goddamn blueprint. The whole grand design. The Republicans’ sacred little star chart in 2025. A battered, coffee-stained field guide titled “Assume the voters are fucking idiots.” That is their ethos. Their gospel. Their guiding garbage ground game.

And Donald Trump?

His commitment to this delusion is biblical.

He NEEDS you to be smooth-brained, adult-sized applesauce, wandering the grocery aisle like you’re trying to solve a maze printed on bong water, weapons grade stupid.

The man talks to the American people like he’s babysitting adults who keep licking outlets for sport and then proudly showing him the scorch marks. He stands there in that tragic citrus glow, like a punished beach ball someone forgot to deflate after an orgy at Mar-a-Lago, and explains the economy with the condescending patience of a man reading Goodnight Moon to a pile of damp casino carpet ripped up during a hepatitis outbreak and still suspiciously warm from whatever the hell happened on it. Every lie erupts out of him like someone squeezed a fire hose full of raw sewage and mystery fluids they don’t test for in polite society.

He has never stepped inside a grocery store, yet stomps around like the self-anointed Pope of Produce, the Sultan of Store Brands, the Guru of Goddamn Groceries, the deranged high priest of whatever rancid refrigerator prophecy he hallucinated while huffing aerosol cheese. This is the same confused pantry poltergeist who once insisted you need ID to buy cereal. Cereal. As if Tony the Tiger is quietly deputizing shoppers at dawn. He thinks he invented groceries. He thinks he authored pasta. He genuinely believes Thanksgiving “surroundings” is the correct term for stuffing and sweet potatoes, like a short-circuited kitchen gnome glitching his way through a holiday he has never cooked, tasted, or emotionally acknowledged.

Meanwhile, Walmart trims microscopic shavings off their sad little off-brand cans, and Captain Thanksgiving-Surroundings practically has a patriotic orgasm.

The casino crash-test clown who managed to bankrupt a building that literally prints money wants to teach the country capitalism.

The drywall-addled demolition gremlin who carved a third of the White House out of existence like he was reenacting a childhood meltdown claims he is a real-estate savant.

And he delivers all of this with the frantic, nostril-flaring bravado of a man who just railed crushed-up Adderall off a Gideon Bible and suddenly thinks God anointed him to run a corruption ring and a cult at the same fucking time.

Because he thinks you are fucking stupid.

He thinks you won’t notice your grocery bill beating the shit out of your bank account. He thinks you won’t notice your rent mutating into a hostage negotiation. He thinks you won’t notice your healthcare premiums climbing your entire existence like a rabid jungle cat hopped up on copay fumes. He thinks shouting “hottest economy” with revival-tent desperation will make anyone forget the obvious.

We are living in the economic end scene of Thelma and Louise.

And while you’re duct-taping your budget together every month, he assumes your brain is mushy enough to cheer while he erects a $350 million gilded ballroom, a gaudy Xanadu of narcissism and gold trim, a monument to his own delusion built on your financial corpse. He’s betting you won’t connect your empty grocery cart to his tacky architectural mid-life crisis.

Because he thinks you are fucking stupid.

And now, right on schedule, the Epstein panic is back, and Trump is flailing like a man being hunted through a carnival funhouse by every terrible thing he’s ever done. He’s ricocheting off mirrored walls, tripping over his own shadow, swatting at reflections that look exactly like him because, for once, he recognizes the monster chasing him.

These emails aren’t leaking.

They’re blowing the fuck up like goddamn IED’s in Outlook.

Little explosive truth-bombs turning his alibis into shrapnel.

Epstein saying he could take Trump down.

Epstein saying Trump knew about the girls.

Epstein saying Trump asked Ghislaine to stop.

Epstein hinting about the pictures, the visits, the teenage employees, the whole sick conveyor belt between his house and Trump’s orbit.

The calls. The hours. The rooms. The age. The certainty. He knew. He was involved. He is implicated. These aren’t rumors. These aren’t Telegram sewer hallucinations. These aren’t TikTok driveway confessionals filmed from the driver’s seat of a 2011 Honda Civic.

These are estate-certified emails pulled straight from Epstein’s own servers — timestamped, archived, and shoved into a folder some panicked lawyer prayed no one would ever open. They don’t “accidentally leak” because someone sneezed on a flash drive. They smell like truth — sour, incriminating, pulse-spiking truth — and he knows it.

And still he wants you to believe they are fake, leaked, real, irrelevant, planted, exonerating, incriminating, Democrat-engineered, Republican-approved, hoaxes, witch hunts, nothingburgers, and also somehow serious enough to require brand-new federal investigations.

Why?

Because he thinks you are fucking stupid.

This man cannot settle on a lie. He wants every lie. The entire goddamn buffet. Look at his actions.

Last week he treated a simple discharge petition like it was the motherfucking nuclear briefcase, the kind he imagines is guarded by a laser maze, three horny angels, and a Doberman wearing night-vision goggles. He dragged Lauren Boebert into the Situation Room to pressure her into withdrawing her name. He called Nancy Mace. He threatened Thomas Massie and Marjorie Taylor Greene. He acted like releasing the Epstein files would summon a biblical plague.

And then. Poof.

Like a magic trick performed by a concussed birthday clown, he suddenly claims he is all for transparency.

Donald Trump could release the Epstein files whenever the fuck he wants.

Right now.

This minute.

On the toilet.

During dessert.

He controls the Department of Justice. His DOJ is the one hiding the files behind the fake “pending investigation” fig leaf. It isn’t caution. It’s gaslighting so brazen it should come with a Surgeon General’s warning.

Transparency?

From the guy who buried the files by siccing Pam Bondi on Democrats so DOJ could stall indefinitely?

From the sexual abuser whose own DOJ in 2019 said releasing anything about Epstein would “endanger the public”?

From the man who moved Ghislaine Maxwell to a bougie prison camp with special privileges and a therapy puppy?

He thinks we are that fucking stupid.

He thinks you will see stiff, awkward photos with Melania — who radiates the energy of a woman trying to astral-project out of her marriage — and treat them like exoneration. He thinks posting Hallmark-channel hostage photography will distract you from leaked emails about Bubba and blow jobs.

Because he thinks you are fucking stupid.

He is the one who is fucking stupid.

He is the clown who thinks tariffs don’t raise prices. He is the economic dumbfuck who thinks the economy sprouted fully formed from his ass. He is the deranged landlord who hacked a third of the White House off the map. He is the fever-glazed buffoon who thinks shouting “hottest economy” with televangelist desperation will magically make groceries stop costing more than urgent care.

And he genuinely believes the seventy-seven million self-sabotaging masochists who voted for him are too stupid to notice the obvious:

He dragged the government to court to block food assistance for forty-two million Americans. He is shutting down hospitals in red states like it’s performance art. He has fixed no bridges, raised no wages, revived no factories, cleaned no poisoned water. He has lowered nothing except the national IQ and the bar for human embarrassment. He ran on Epstein accountability and is now doing Olympic-level gymnastics to bury the files forever.

Because he thinks his base is stupid.

He thinks you are stupid.

He thinks we are all stupid.

They know they have no platform.

They know they have no policies.

They know they are not improving a single life except the predators and plutocrats who bankroll them.

So they distract.

They misdirect.

They shake jangly bullshit in the air like cheap street magicians stalling the crowd.

They need to believe we’re stupid enough to swallow this crap, because seventy-seven million people already did.

And they’re banking on you being just stupid enough to swallow it again.

So the real question is…

Are you?