Handlers drag Stutterin’ Jaux out into public view, hilarity ensues. Not that THAT could possibly come as any kind of surprise by now.
Oh, they’re actually going to bother trying to “explain” this lapse into his typical state of mental confusion, are they? Assuming they do, and I don’t why they would really, I’m betting on the old “it was a joke” standby. That well-worn chestnut always seems to take in the rubes.
The White House is struggling to explain President Joe Biden’s claim that he has driven an 18-wheeler truck, Fox News reported.
“I used to drive an 18-wheeler, man,” Biden said on Wednesday. “I got to.” The president claimed he had driven the massive trucks before while visiting a Mack Truck facility in Pennsylvania, according to Fox News.
The White House didn’t respond to an immediate question from the Daily Caller News Foundation about evidence towards this claim.
Of course they didn’t. I mean, what could they possibly say?
Also left unexplained by White House goons was Jaux Corpsicle’s claim that, during the earliest days of his long and storied trucking career driving for Precion Tool Company in his home town of Memphis, he spent a lot of his off hours at Sun Studios with the legendary Sam Phillips—the man who produced the recording of “My Happiness” that Biden did as a birthday gift for his mother Gladys, which launched his career as one of the world’s most iconic rock and roll singers.
After the men in the long white lab jackets “escorting” Biden at the Mack plant tried desperately to steer their befuddled charge back on track mentally, the ***”””President”””*** launched into a rambling reminiscence of the very first days of his ***”””Presidency”””*** back in 1776, when he personally and singlehandedly penned both the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution in less than half a day.
Upon being queried by reporters about whether and when the Great Man might sit down to write his memoirs, Biden suddenly turned beet-red with rage at the imaginary slight. “COME ON, MAN!! I did that years and years ago,” the ***”””President”””*** angrily exploded, swinging his withered arms frantically around his head as if he’d been suddenly beset by a swarm of blowflies. “The title of it was, I think, My Personal Best umpty-tumpty-tiddly something or other, can’t remember. But over time, my book became better known as simply the New Testament. Sold a hell of a lot of copies, too, once I gave that Gutenberg feller a few pointers and we got that printing press of his working right again, I tell ya what.”
The White House press corpse fell to its knees at these startling revelations, every voice raised in hosannahs of praise and humble gratitude for what must surely be the greatest leader ever to bestride this poor planet, hailing him as the mighty colossus—verily, the King of Kings—he so truly is.