Note to Trump ...
As you witness the outpouring of love and admiration for Justice Ruth Bader-Ginsburg, I just want to remind you of something.
When you die, no one will mourn you. Your wife will be celebrating being free of the piggish lard-ass she married for money. Your children will be rushing to their personal lawyers, each trying to cheat their siblings out of every penny they stand to inherit.
There won’t be any friends attending your funeral, because you have no friends.
The Republican enablers who now support your crimes will be no-shows, anxious to distance themselves from the stench of corruption you led them to wallow in. Many of them couldn’t attend even if they wanted to – because they’ll be in prison.
Every one of the business people you stiffed with your bullshit investment schemes will be gathering in bars to toast your demise. Every person you cheated out of their savings to attend your fake university will be raising their glasses to celebrate your death. Every labourer you refused to pay will be holding house parties, where all will join in damning your soul to hell.
If you lie in state in D.C., even your staunchest supporters won’t show up to pay their respects – because given their collective attention span, they won’t even remember your name if you drop dead the day after you leave office.
There will be no glowing eulogies about your generosity of spirit, your kindness, your intellect. There will be no tearful reminiscences of what a great man you were – because you’ve never been one. Ever. In. Your. Entire. Life.
No matter where you are eventually buried, it will become a popular tourist attraction. People from all over the nation and the world-at-large will make pilgrimages there in order to piss on your grave – and they’ll post pics of doing so on FaceBook in order to impress their friends.
There will be festivities around the globe – fireworks displays, impromptu parades. Spirits will be lifted to an all-time high, and people from every nation and every walk of life will express their utter and complete joy.
The day you die, the headline will be the same in every country, translated into every language. It will simply say IT’S DEAD!!!” – and all in caps.
So take a good look at the crowds gathered outside the Supreme Court, the people who are mourning the loss of a woman you aren’t fit to shine the shoes of. And let it sink in that you are witnessing what you will never, ever have.
= new reply since forum marked as read
In Mary Trump's book she told about when her father died. She knew his wishes, he did not want to be buried. He was cremated, as he wished, but her grandfather (and Donald) made all the arrangements for him to be interred in the family plot. Since he had been a pilot and loved the freedom of flying, she wanted his ashes to be spread in a place that he loved, but she was overruled, that was the way things were done. 
A refreshment stand outside the cemetery, selling all types of diuretic beverages. I may become my own best customer.
