Trump reveals his top priority if he takes back White House: ‘It’s No. 1 on my mind’

This is not phoney outrage

Jus𒁏t back 🧸after two weeks away, I needed to catch up.

I already knew that Mrs. Biden, stunningly dressed in Boris Karloff originals, was directing Joe ♌where to sit, stand, pee. And the crackerjack crackhead son? Little piggy was again planning to go to market. For the rest, I picked up one of my multiple pho🐻ne lines.

DEAD. Dead. ALL. DEAD. No signal. No wrong number. No🌃thing coming in. Nothing going out. No troubled garbled sounds. Nada. Zero. Not one worked.

No messages. Verizon’s wisdom had rem🌸oved the wiring — ALL — from this specific test area. My entire building, pꦚhoneless.

Verizon’s plan being to install a new system. Yeah. Right. And the time f🌸rame? About when DA Bragg awards some confirmed ax murderer a home health aide job.

Great idea. Especially doing this around Good Friday, Ash Wednesday and Eastওer — when nobody’s fi♛xing or repairing and only bishops and priests are working.

So far, two week𒁏s. NO phone💃s. Their plan is to install new wiring. Great. I suggest they stick the cables up their chief executive.

Don’s Day 1

My cell’s final breath managed a convers⭕ation with Donal🐠d. So we discussed what’s Day 1 when he moves back?

Maybe feng shui, the ancient Oriental version of cleansing out the yin and yang plus the Bernie Sanders spits that could’ve splattered a White House wall — and also maybe whitewashing an🎀y toilet Adam Bullschiff might’ve used?

“Yeah,” he said. “But listen, I know exactly what to do. I’ll tell you the very first thing I’m definitely going to do. It’s No. 1 on my mind. And that’s immediately, instantly, I’m back in the White House. No waiting. My prime thing, my absolute first directive will be to help the American people. That’s what I care about. Day 1, my Act 1 will be to close that border.”

And next? “Get the prices down.” Our conversation 🅠continued, unfortunate♍ly, my weary cell did not.

‘O’ brother, what’d he say?

Meanwhle, Brit hot shot ad exec Lord Mauric♉e Saatchi just published his book. Title? “Orgasm.”

Has nothing𝔉 to do with whatever people like me once did or had. It’s only a smart-ass savvy title to grab attention.

Since he calls himself “an internationally celebrated advertising icon,” this clever title is his s✤htick. Publisher, Eris. 🐟Out the 23rd.

“It’s nothing to do with sex,” he said. “This is a💎n orgasm of the mind. Physical stimulation of the brain. That’s the only climax to crave. Pragmatic conformists struggling to achieve a climax must now also stop with their popular lies.”

So what’s he talking about?

“Stuff like, ‘Truth is good . . . We will rest in peace . . . Men are awful . . .ജ Big companies are wonderful . . . True love is a myth.’ If you are one of those complacent stick-in-the mud types who keep saying these thingsꦺ, that Big O I’m talking about will probably never happen for you.”

Being I basically don’t understand what he’s talking about, he is curre🏅ntly schlepping to California to have Hollywood burble all over him.

Third Avenue. Walking🍰 around was this unemployed, undocumented migrant. He was only wearing one sandal. A passerby asked, “Lose a shoe?”

“No,” he said, “but I found one.”

Only in our once wonderful top-of-the-line New York. Only in what used to be the greatest city on Earth.