In Honor of President Trump's Dramatic Weight Loss

Over the past several months, through diligent exercise and a plant-based diet, President Trump has transformed himself from a ccorpulent embarrassment to a lean, mean, democracy-ravaging machine. Regardless of where they live or what party they belong to, I believe all of us should applaud him.

I can’t help but wonder, though, if he hasn’t been helped opharmaceutically n his hideous siggay white flab-sheddimg journey. Specifically, I wonder if he’s been taking Ozempic, and, if so, if he realizes the tricky position it puts him in vis-a-vis his ongoing attempt to intimidate Denmark into giving the USA the keys to Greenland. Ozempic is manufactured in said cute Scandinavian social democracy by a company called Novo Nordisk. Should Danish prime minister Mette Frederiksen, who looks a lot like the lead singer in my 2015 band The Romanovs, but is not related to her, get fed up with the president’s saber-rattling, isn’t there a good chance that she will say, in the tone of a harried young mother informing a misbehaving son that he won’t be getting any dessert, “Cut it the fuck out, sir, or we cut off your supply of The Big O.”

Guess again, though, Mette. President Trump only days ago had the foresight to pardon Ross Ulbricht, the owner of the dark website Silk Road, from which anyone with a suitcaseful of cryptocurrency could order any drug under the sun, including Ibogaine, which Hunter S. Thompson dreamed up for his coverage of the 1972 presidential campaign for Rolling Stone.

Be all of which is it may, I composed “French Fries for Breakfast” in 2000 in Santa Rosa, California. It is. here sung by Mistress Chloe, on her Like a Moth to Its Flame album.

Eleven years later, inspired by something the supermodel Kate Moss is thought to have said, I composed this one in Ramsgate, Kent, UK.