DECLAS & INTEL

Watch all of the Christmas messages from President Trump and First Lady Melania Trump

Horrific plane crash

'Twas the night before Christmas, in Bannon's War Room Not a creature was stirring, not even a grundoon The podiums were set by the cameras with care, In hopes that some chaos soon would be there The guests were all nestled, all snug in their seats, While visions of angry libs danced in their tweets. And Steve in his field jacket, and cap with a slant, Had just settled down for a long, fiery rant. When out on the airwaves there arose such a clatter, He sprang from his chair to see what was the matter. Away to the monitors he flew like a flash, Tore open the mute, threw off the headset's clash. The glow from the screens on the new-fallen polls, Gave the lustre of mass deportations over the wall When, what to his wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature MAGA hat, with a justice system 1-tier With a little old driver, with a twist and a bump, I knew in a moment it must be Santa Trump. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: "Now, Culture! Now, Migrants! Now, Border and Fraud! On, Media! On, Swamp! On, Elites and Squad! To the top of the charts! To the top of the fray! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away, all!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the studio the coursers they flew, With a sleigh full of angry comments, and Santa Trump too And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, The prancing and pawing of each little goof. As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, Down the chimney Santa Trump came with a bound. As news of his triumph before the world do fly When they meet with resistance, they mount to the sky So up to the War Room his message it flew, With a promise of greatness, and Santa Trump too. And then, in a twinkling, we heard on the screen, The sound of his voice, so bold and so keen. As we turned on our mics, and looked all around, Down the broadcast came Santa Trump with a bound. He was dressed all in red, from his head to his toe, His suit was all spangled, with stars and with glow; A bundle of hope he had flung on his back, And he looked like a leader, with no lack of attack. His eyes—how they sparkled! Golden hair like a mane! His cheeks were like flags, his tweets drove them insane! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow And the hair of his head was as wild as we know. The grip of a sharpie he held tight in his grip, And the ink it encircled his words like a quip He had a broad face and a round little waist That shook when he laughed, like a ballot in haste. He was plump and he was proud, a right jolly old chief, And we chuckled when we saw him, he gave the libs grief A wink of his eye and a nod of his head Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his cause, Filled all our hearts with his patriotic laws, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the screen he rose He sprang to his podium, to his base gave a cheer, And away they all flew like the end of a year. But I heard him exclaim, as he faded from sight, "Merry MAGA to all, and to all a good fight!"

Flashback: Trump discusses Santa with 7- year- old

Santa voted for Trump

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Now the birds are flashing lights?

NEW: Gaetz Flew the MAGA Flag Even in The Darkest Hours, Now the Base Must Have His Back as the New Hoaxes Roll Out. https://thenationalpulse.com/analysis-post/gaetz-flew-the-maga-flag-even-in-the-darkest-hours-now-the-base-must-have-his-back-as-the-new-hoaxes-roll-out/?feed_id=32367&_unique_id=676ae4f88d75c