C’mon, blabbermouth! Where's the early morning tweetstorm? Cat got yer finger?
Nothing to say about Comey’s “note to self” outlining your request to shut down a federal investigation help out a friend? C’mon, tough guy! Where are the tweets?
You’re not going to tell me that you're going to let those dweebs tell you you can't tweet! A guy like you? Master of his own universe? Taking orders from some snot-nosed kid who happened to marry your daughter? (And a Jew, to boot!)
What's that? She's in on it, too?
“Daddy, absolutely no more tweeting! "
Who are these people to tell the man who had the biggest electoral margin in history (that's what you've heard from people) what he can and cannot do?
You owe it to yourself to tweet! How else can you bypass the purveyors of fake news? (Look, I know “purveyors” is kind of a big word, but it means the same thing as “peddlers.”)
Are you watching “Morning Joe?” (I know you are.) They're mocking you! They say you're nuts, you've got a screw loose, you're a clown!
This cannot stand, oh Mighty Tweeter! You must respond!
Do not be a coward. Do not listen to those who only care about themselves and not about you!
Tweet, Mr. President, tweet!