From the sulking corner: Too creepy for a headline or: Trump in the shower

Our quirky columnist's imagination ran wild again. He wondered why Trump showers a lot and what it feels like to kiss his ass. But he didn't write down everything that came to mind: Because does anyone even want to know?

Trump, in his – thankfully – inimitable style, has already ended one war in a flash. By decree and – as befits a self-proclaimed political genius – within 24 hours, he ended "the Obama-Biden war on water pressure." Just like that. Without the use of water pistols or any other firearms. Without a prior ceasefire. Without a prior water cessation. "Make America's showers great again," he had his administration proclaim in a press release. That's enough to send a great shower down your spine.

The man who rules the most powerful country in the world banned the current throttling of water pressure in showers operating on American soil – not including Canada and Greenland. This fulfilled a boozy dream of Blitzfried Trump: to (theoretically) let the water of the Gulf of America trickle over his golden bulb every morning. Gone is the agony of the trickle, which he once described as follows: "I have to stand under the shower for 15 minutes until it's wet. It comes out, dripping, dripping, dripping. It's ridiculous." Poor Blitzfried Trump, he had it damned hard all those years of war with too little water on his head and pubic hair.

But now! "The regulation frees Americans from excessive regulations that have turned a basic household appliance into a bureaucratic nightmare," was the good news for the almost parched populace. "Shower heads will no longer be flimsy and worthless." Also an end to the activities of environmental and climate buffoons like Barack Obama and Joe Biden, who only served "a radical green agenda." The former gave freedom- and cleanliness-loving Americans the trickle-shower system. Trump reversed it in his first term, before he was called Lightning Peace Trump. The water could flow again, completely unfettered by regulations. Then Biden returned the showers to the Obama state. Until Lightning Peace Trump came along and ended the bloodshed by water.

Man in the last third of life

When Trump, the quick-fire peace tycoon, raised and lowered tariffs, and then raised them again, he presented himself as a clean-cutting man – everywhere. World leaders from all over the world were practically queuing up to him, begging him to "please, please" agree to a deal. He, a guarantor of peace, freedom, and flatulence, expressed what the world leaders – hopefully showered – were doing to him as follows: "Kissing my ass." This can be translated literally as "they're kissing my butt," but also more loosely as "they're crawling up my ass." Both are creepy ideas, which is why I didn't dare include them in the headline. I had been thinking about: What does Trump's ass feel like?

I decided against it because: Does anyone even want to know? I'm a man in the last third of his life, so I'm familiar with all kinds of smells – including those from the crack of my butt. Yuck, yuck. I'd rather change the subject and write about the health of Blitzfried-Trump. It must be impeccable. That's at least what a medical examiner has confirmed. Not a brain defect, as I suspected, but mild sun damage to his skin. Although, had I been the examining doctor, I certainly wouldn't have found anything critical, lest I be labeled on X as a "very bad doctor," a "big loser," or a "scumbag" who's "bad for the country," and then have to fear for my life.

To get him to leave me alone, I would snivell the following via a medical certificate: "The best president in the universe and of all time, including the future, is in excellent cognitive and physical health and is fully capable of fulfilling the duties of Commander-in-Chief and Head of State. Even years of showering without enough pressure could not harm him physically or mentally. Long live him!"

All answered correctly

Blitzfrieden-Trump took the brain test and apparently somehow passed. I read online that it tests whether "a person's cognitive abilities, such as logical reasoning, problem-solving skills, and linguistic comprehension" are intact. Logical reasoning, problem-solving skills, and linguistic comprehension—none of that exactly sounds like Blitzfrieden-Trump. But whatever. What matters is what comes out at the end, and I don't mean his ass. "I don't know what to say except that I answered everything correctly," the test taker said about his flawless result.

What might he have been asked and answered? Perhaps: Who invaded Ukraine? "Zelensky." Who wants to end the war? "Putin." Who will bring peace within 24 hours? "I, the greatest president of the United States since the country's founding." What concessions did Russia make to Ukraine in the negotiations for the quick peace? "Ending the war and not taking over the entire country? A pretty big concession." All very logical, problem-solving-oriented, and linguistically impeccable. Result: Test passed with ease. Bravo, Mr. President!

Everyone just one wind turbine!

Evidence of his officially certified intellectual capacity abounds. Among other things, his comments on the energy situation of Germany and its citizens. "They tried wind turbines and it didn't work." And now? "Now they're building a coal-fired power plant every week." Sure, it took us a decade to build a major airport, but they're building a power plant every week. Then Stuttgart 21 will surely be finished soon. This year's Easter greeting from Blitzfried-Trump also testifies to a level of intellectual capacity. "Happy Easter to everyone, including the radical left-wing lunatics who are fighting and scheming so hard to bring murderers, drug barons, dangerous prisoners, the mentally ill, known MS-13 gang members, and wife beaters back to our country."

An Easter greeting is not a Hitler salute. After all, I recently wrote that someone who wants and achieves a Blitzfrieden (quick peace) can't be a Nazi. They, as we all know, liked Blitzkrieg (lightning war). So: everything's fine. Even the showers.