Local “poet” says Trump has “wet dreams” about his own daughter. Pens perverted diatribe against white people and Franklin, TN.
Tennessean pours on the adulation while censoring the most disgusting parts of her “poem.”
“Fake news” our ass. How about contrived, highly-edited and depraved news? A 19-year-old community college student from middle Tennessee, who had her poem read to the recent protest rally in Washington by the reliably left wingnut actress Ashley Judd, was catapulted to questionable fame by the adoring mainstream news media, with The Tennessean leading the way.
The Tennessean took the disturbing ramblings of Nina Donavan and deified her in a slobbering article about her “art” and new-found fame.
But what the Tennessean cowardly edited out of Ms. Donovan’s poem were parts like this:
“I am not as nasty as your own daughter being your [Trump’s] favorite sex symbol, like your wet dreams infused with your own genes.”
What kind of sicko thinks of such disgusting imagery? Artistes such as Ms. Nina Donovan, of course.
According to her LinkedIn page, Ms. Donovan is a former “party hostess” at Chucky Cheese’s in Cool Springs in Franklin. Let’s hope all she did was seat people. We would hate to think she was actually preparing or handling our children’s food.
Ms. Donovan went on to write:
“I’m not as nasty as Confederate flags being tattooed across my city.”
Uh, really, Nina? Several of the Rocky Top crew live in Franklin and for the life of us we cannot recall a “confederate flag” popping up in public view since some eccentric old fart erected the hideous Nathan Bedford Forrest statue and flag on I-65 many years ago — before you were even born. Ironically, he also called the ugly statue “art” and built a fence around it to keep people from tearing it down. Sort of like the fence against criticism the Tennessean was trying to build around you.
So unless we missed a Klan rally on the Franklin square recently, we believe Nina’s artistic claims of Confederate conspiracy to the contrary qualify as a big, fat, hairy lie and a slander against the fine folk of Franklin and Tennessee.
“I feel Hitler in these streets.”
Surely, surely Ms. Donovan, you are not comparing President (choke on it) Trump to Hitler. Hard to be Hitler when your daughter and grandchildren are Jewish, like President (choke on it) Trump’s but hey, Nina, never let rational facts ever get in the way of a spitting, slavering whacked-out diatribe, right?
But what serious literary genius can exist without a serious image for the jacket cover of her forthcoming “Anthology of Perverted Poems that Prove Tennessee and America Suck.”
How so very très, seriouso, Ms. Donovan. We hear it will be published by George Soros and the Alinsky Press and will soon to be on store shelves right next to the “pussy caps” (or as we refer to them in Tennessee, the “Steve Cohen caps”).
Is Ms. Donovan so mired in her social justice warrior ideology and cloak of perceived superiority that she can say whatever she wants?
Well guess what? Turns out she can say whatever she wants. That right is provided to her by the U.S. Constitution. The same document that also allows the Tennessean to operate as though it were a legitimate news source.
Enjoy the freedom of speech that you and so many of your ilk try to deprive others who have the gall to disagree with you, as evidenced by your puerile ponderings, Nina.
We congratulate Ms. Donovan on exercising her rights. But we offer sympathy and a suspicion that her new found adulation will set her on a lifetime path of bitter harangues as a tiresome scold whose left-wing demented diatribes will serve as their own justification.
As President (choke on it) Trump would say:
As for Ashley Judd, any future plans to threaten to run for office in Kentucky again? Yeah, we didn’t think so.
And as for the Tennessean we also say thank you for living down to your predictably low and cowardly standards with your ham-handed cut and paste selective editing. We have come to expect nothing less.
In closing, we offer a sneak preview of Ms. Donovan’s latest poetic masterpiece:
Roses are red,
Pussycaps are pink.
When I grow up,
I want to learn how to think.
— a poem by Nina Donovan.