Donald Trump was not feeling well one day, so he took time out of his busy golfing schedule to visit the presidential physician. The doctor took note of the symptoms which he was experiencing, poked and prodded at him a bit, rubbed his chin in thought, and finally exited the room.
Trump was getting impatient when the doctor finally came back, carrying a quart beaker full of some black liquid. “Here you are, Donald. Just drink all of this and you’ll be right as rain.”
Trump looked at the stuff in the beaker, sniffed it, and declared “Bull shit!”
“Yes,” said the doctor. “You’re a quart low.”
Trump was getting impatient when the doctor finally came back, carrying a quart beaker full of some black liquid. “Here you are, Donald. Just drink all of this and you’ll be right as rain.”
Trump looked at the stuff in the beaker, sniffed it, and declared “Bull shit!”
“Yes,” said the doctor. “You’re a quart low.”
