The question of crumpet packaging once threatened the acceptance of Donald Trump as a worthy president. Now it looks like it will save him.
To explain. ‘Crumpet’ in British slangy parlance is another word for good-looking lady, as in ‘Whoar! She’s a bit of crumpet!’ The term was in common usage as late as the 1970s but is considered now rather antiquated and derogatory. After all ‘a bit’ of crumpet suggests that the lady in question is only partially a crumpet and not worthy enough to be the whole thing. Donald Trump was therefore considered to be a ‘crumpet-packager’ in this sense when he made the remark that, ‘You can do anything. Whatever you want. Grab them by the pu*sy.’
However, in a timely twist of fate, crumpet packaging is in dire straits. How come?
Because suddenly we hear reports that the process of crumpet packaging requires CO2 which is globally in chronically short supply. There is though a very happy solution.
‘CO2?’ you bleat. ‘Isn’t that the stuff we have too much of in greenhouses? Isn’t it destroying the climate?’ Yes it is. So why not capture the CO2 billowing out of the fossil fuel burning power stations and solve the crumpet girding crisis at the same time?
Donald Trump has come under enormous criticism for protecting the dirty coalmining industry. And the people who work in the industry who so happen to be the type of people who vote for him. But here’s a thing. The British, the prime manufacturers of crumpets, are threatening to impose tariffs on American goods just because America got in first with their own tariffs. Of course, tit-for-tat tariffs on the very British crumpet could have made the bakery item prohibitively expensive in the US. Had Trump not saved the massively CO2 emitting coal industry, America would not be in a position to manufacture and package its own crumpets at a competitive price.
Trump will say we needed coalmining. I told you so. I never liked renewable energy in the first place anyway. Horrible loser technology. The president was incensed when his aesthetic sensibilities were battered by the appalling sight of wind turbines out at sea blighting the otherwise unspoilt view from one of his golf courses on the Aberdeenshire coast.
‘This is crazy golf!’ he blustered. Visibly upset, an aide came to the then property tycoon’s rescue. ‘Those may appear like small windmills, sir,’ he said, ‘but I assure you, you are seeing very large but distant wind turbines, not small windmills.’ The greens had not been, as Trump feared, turned into a crazy golf course.
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