Trump organizes a new deal with Guatemala

Boy, things sure do happen fast with this administration.

Guatemalan Interior Minister Enrique Degenhart and acting DHS Secretary Kevin McAleenan signed a joint asylum agreement. Guatemala is now a safe third country, meaning any South American migrants intending to pass through Guatemala must accept Guatemala for asylum and not the United States.

He's winning all over the place. If our media weren't so hopeless they'd be lauding Trump's successes but they're so corrupted themselves his success read as defeats for themselves. That's why they're the enemy of the people. Pretty much everyone that I know still rely on them for information and they're each very poorly served.

This week alone:
1) The Mueller hearing was a total disaster for Democrats who now all look like perfect jerks.
2) Guatemala signed this 3rd party agreement
3) Supreme Court allows 2.5 billion transfer of DOD funds to build border wall. This is a huge win for Trump. Vote was 5:4 with the liberal judges voting treacherously. This overturned a lower court decision.
4) Democrat squad was humiliated
5) Fake News Media yells "racist" again.
6) House Speaker Pelosi diminished.
7) Democrats are now seen as Socialist party
8) France put on notice for taxing American technology companies. Trump insists if anyone taxes American companies it will be us and not them. Trump adds, he always said American wines are better than French wines.
9) Sweden put on notice over A$AP rapper.
10) U.S. trade representatives instructed to take action to stop rich countries from cheating the WTO system at the expense of the U.S.
11) Apple moved to China despite American tariffs intended to bring China to true free trade then asked Trump for waiver. Trump said, "Bite me. Make your McPro parts in the U.S. instead."

Don't watch this. He's reading. It's boring. He tells us what we already know.

Watch these instead.


President Trump and his lovey wife go out to dinner at Trump Hotel. He'll be having a steak well done. That cracks me up. With catsup. And probably two scoops of ice cream for dessert.

President Trump and the First Lady arriving at the Trump Hotel for dinner tonight pic.twitter.com/lWq1HzSlsu

— Sara Cook (@saraecook) July 27, 2019

President @realDonaldTrump made these two kids’ night so special 💚 pic.twitter.com/DYjbCkWFS1

— Maggie Mulvaney (@MaggieMulvaney) July 27, 2019

Did I ever tell you how I was broken of the habit of having steaks well done?

I always had them well done because I like the taste of charred meat and I couldn't bear the thought of eating animal blood. The red meat was just too much for my tender soul. Shut up, my soul was tender back then.

In the first grade I cried when my parents forced me to eat steak. I got Mum to promise to cook the living shit out them so they changed into something unlike meat.

And that's bad because my parents bought good cuts of meat. They weren't slouches when it came to that. They went to a butcher and bought an entire side of beef and had them stored in a freezer somewhere else. Some place where the whole room is a freezer. I don't now where. I never went with them to pick up the packages to load up our home freezer. And their good culinary and financial choices were all lost on me. I could't stand the idea of killing a cow for its meat.

Barry and I peeked through a crack of an opened door at the butcher and witnessed a very large boar being slaughtered. It was a horrifying sight that's still with me. The hog saw it coming from the bed of the truck. The whole thing was a fight. They strung it up with a chain upside down. It bled through its nose, screaming the whole time. Then the men sliced open its belly and spilled its guts. At last the pig-screaming ended. The scene was pure horror. We were mesmerized and terrified simultaneously. Because they could more easily do that to us. I kept watching because Barry kept watching. I copied everything Barry did. It's all his fault. What a little bastard. Didn't he know when to stop looking? He got me in trouble all the time. Just by following him around all over the place.

I could be a PETA member.

I mean it.

That right there is what PETA is all about.

At fourteen I was obnoxiously precocious. I walked right up to two men at the mall who were shopping and speaking sign language and I introduced myself.

One of them took to me, the other one didn't.

The friendly one told me where they work.

I asked them where they went for lunch.

I asked them if I could join them.

They worked at a nearby printshop through a vocational rehabilitation program that encouraged handicapped people to work instead of lolling about on the dole.

Eventually I learned every aspect of the print shop. It's no longer there. In Englewood Colorado, now a Christian bookshop took up the space along with an African violet store.

I dropped in for lunch regularly through the summer.

Eventually, the nice one came to my house and met my family.

The two plus three other deaf men working there found me to be useful. They used me for translating their print shop classes, and for interacting in the hearing world.

Everything they learned, I learned. Everything they did, I did too.

The whole experience was enriching. And whereas up to that point I had only one rather poor ASL book that I read in one night, and the classes at Denver University under my belt, by the time they were done with me my signing skill had improved markedly.

I practiced with songs and with no internet help with lyrics, and I'd ask them how to sign phrases so I could quit spelling in the songs. One by one, two by two, three by three and so on, words and phrases added up through songs. I didn't have to write anything down. I had only to recall the lyrics to the songs.

Likewise, they asked me what the lyrics were to songs. They heard them in part. Bits and pieces here and there. Disco was big. They could dance. But they didn't know what they were dancing to. So I told them.

One day at a very large chicken restaurant on Santa Fe at Oxford we all ordered steaks instead of chicken. Obviously I ordered mine well done. The original guy who was nice to me told me I must order it rare. I said. "No way, Jose. I can't deal with that."

He insisted.

I insisted.

He told me if I didn't order rare then he wouldn't teach me anymore sign language.

And that BUMMED ME RIGH OUT.

GAWL!

"Goddamnit, you fucker. You're blackmailing me."

"Yup."

"Let me order it medium."

"Okay."

So that's how I finally grew up to medium steaks.

The blood wasn't so bad.

At least I still got to hang with the cool guys.

So you see, Trump never had deaf acquaintances to blackmail him this way. So he's stuck in his well-done steak world. And that's a real shame.