Tag: Pete Miller

“Trump looks like he’s between 11 ounces and 2,000 pounds, so 215 seems pretty close.”

“Zero pounds. Angels are weightless.”

“It’s impolite to talk about a former president’s weight.”

“575,250 jelly beans.”

“He’s 400 pounds, but a lot of that is pus weight.”

“7 pounds, 4 ounces, exactly like it was at his birth.”

“He’s gotta be about 280 pounds with all that rock hard flab.”

“Two heaping tablespoons.”

“I don’t know, but not enough! He’s so thin, just skin and bones. Here, I’ll heat him up some leftover chicken parm.”

“He’s equivalent to about 300 1-pound packages of festering ground beef.”

“I realize that he’s bulging in some places but that’s just because his body is filled with spiders and those things are so light that they can walk along a web without breaking it. 115 pounds is my final answer.”

“I lost count at 261.”

“Perfect just the way he is.”

“Eighty cubits, which is to say 500 fathoms. Twenty corgees, 6 poods, 96 grzywanas, or one great big munjandie.”

“Fatter than my sister-in-law but not fatter than my mother-in-law.”

“They say muscle weighs more than fat, so he’s probably about two pounds.”

“I would tell you, but he’s resisted every effort I’ve made to approach him in public and lift him up.”

“He’s about 225 lickable num num nums.”

“One nipple weighs 3 oz. And Trump has 800 nipples. How much does that equal in pounds?”

“Trump has more fat, pound for pound, in his little finger than many people have in their whole body.”

“Who cares? Even Jesus was overweight.”

“I would put him at 250 pounds of mouthwatering marbled fat, perfect for a day of slow-roasting in a stew or goulash with carrots, mushrooms, a few sprigs of thyme, and a dash or two or red wine to really brighten things.”

“I’m going to make myself throw up until I’m pretty again.”