This past Friday, Donald Trump received his second annual physical. It was performed by Dr. Sean Conley who met the President in the military’s Bethesda Naval Hospital’s William Howard Taft examination room.
Conley’s nurse, Stella Baker, was chosen because she’s the leader of the “Society for Baboons in Politics” movement, and said she’d be glad to help Trump pick ticks off himself.
Conley sent Trump for an MRI. The results of which revealed everything to be in fairly good order except for his heart which the machine couldn’t locate.
The Presidential brain was scanned and showed that the inside of Trump’s skull looked like nuclear winter, only less lush.
Back in the examining room, the doctor told Trump to “bend over and cough.” The President bent over. “Now cough,” said Conley. Trump stood back up and coughed.
Conley: Sir, bend over and cough… at the same time.
Trump: Sorry. I can’t multi-task.
Conley: Hmm… Okay, I need to check your prostate. Drop your pants and bend over.
When Trump did, Nurse Baker exclaimed, “Wow that’s the biggest baboon tush I’ve ever seen.”
When Conley reached up in there, he thought for a moment that he was in Wyoming. Next, the doctor grabbed a pen-light, shined it up there and exclaimed, ” Oh my God.”
Trump: What is it? What do you see?
Conley: Your tax returns.
Trump rose back up.
Trump: Listen, pal, what happens in my ass stays in my ass… Now, how’s my prostate?”
Conley: Quite interesting actually. I’ve never seen a swastika on one before.
Trump: It was a gift from Kellyanne Conway.
Conley: Of course… Did you bring a stool sample like requested?
Trump called out to the Secret Service. Four agents entered, each carrying two filled, gallon paint cans.
Conley: We didn’t need that much, sir.
Trump: That’s okay, I produce that much every twenty minutes, and it’s only about a tenth of what I dump on America every day.