“A portrait of former President Trump will be unveiled in the National Portrait Gallery in Washington, D.C. when it reopens, Washingtonian reports.
Trump’s portrait will be the latest addition to the museum’s ‘America’s Presidents’ gallery, a permanent exhibit within the museum.”
The permanent exhibit has a painting of every former commander-in-chief, so the inclusion of the portrait of the twice-impeached disgraced former president was a formality.
The portrait is temporary, official presidential portraits can take years to be completed. The final work of art is still in its initial phase of creation; the curator of the museum should have installed a Jim Carrey caricature of the president until the final portrait is ready.
I’m not an artist, I can barely draw stick figures, but I think I can paint a reasonable facsimile of Trump: bright orange crayon for his countenance, brown for his sphincter-shaped lips, red, and white, and blue to lend his triple chin a patriotic look.
When the official Trump portrait is unveiled, I expect a steady stream of MAGA faithful making a pilgrimage to the National Portrait Gallery. Doubtless, all sorts of miracles will be attributed to the Trump portrait:
“When I gazed upon his face my manhood grew about four inches and now all the Republican ladies always invite me to their prayer meetings.”
“His portrait was shedding tears, and when I touched an orange teardrop I was instantly and miraculously cured of gout and incontinence.”
“It winked at me, my God it winked at me. That’s a message from the Almighty that I must visit Mar-a-Lago and let Trump grab the bejesus out of my pussy.”
I for one will not be waiting with bated breath for the unveiling of the official Trump portrait.