⚠️ SATIRE DISCLAIMER ⚠️: This is a work of political satire in the style of George Carlin. It’s not journalism, not bipartisan, and it’s not here to kiss anybody’s flag. If you’re already angry — good. That means you’re paying attention.

So apparently, folks, the big mystery in Washington this week is why Donald Trump didn’t win the Nobel Peace Prize.

And I’ll tell you why: because nominations closed on January 31st, and at that point the only thing he’d successfully ended was his own sentences halfway through a thought.

You can’t win a peace prize for plans you make in July, especially when your biggest accomplishment by January was declaring war on immigrants, journalists, teachers, and anyone who can spell. He’s up there whining, “It would be a big insult to our country if I don’t win the Nobel Peace Prize!”

Buddy, the insult isn’t that you didn’t win — it’s that you applied.

And then he says he’s “ended eight or nine wars.” Eight or nine. Not even sure how many! Imagine telling your doctor, “I’ve cured eight or nine diseases.”

“Which ones?”

“Oh, you know, the bad ones.”

Let’s look at these “wars” he’s supposedly stopped, shall we?

Number one: Gaza.

Yeah, sure — he “brokered” a ceasefire.

Right after Qatar, Egypt, and the UN finished actually brokering it. He parachuted in after the diplomats, took the group selfie, and declared himself Moses with better hair. The man treats global conflict like Uber Eats: he shows up after the delivery and demands a five-star rating.

Number two: Ukraine.

Didn’t end that war. Didn’t even pause it.

He just stopped mentioning it, which, in his mind, makes it over. That’s not peace — that’s a toddler playing peekaboo with foreign policy. If he can’t see the war, it’s gone! “See? No more Ukraine! You’re welcome.”

Number three: India–Pakistan.

Now this one was a shooting war. Missiles. Airstrikes. Dead soldiers.

Real shit. And he waltzes in later to say, “I told them to stop.” That’s like taking credit for the fire department because you coughed near the hydrant. The ceasefire was brokered by the UN, not by some half-assed phone call from Mar-a-Lago between golf rounds. He calls it a “peace deal.” The Indians call it “Wednesday.”

Number four: Armenia–Azerbaijan.

He’s taking credit for a truce that was literally written in Russian.

Vladimir Putin and regional negotiators ended the fighting in Nagorno-Karabakh, but sure — tell me again how the guy who can’t find Azerbaijan on a map “stopped the war.” Next he’ll tell us he invented the alphabet because he once signed his name.

Number five: Sudan, Ethiopia, Yemen — all of Africa, really.

According to Trump, he “brought peace to Africa.”

Yeah, he said that. Apparently he sent a tweet that scared the continent into good behavior. Never mind that the African Union, the UN, and about five other governments were doing the real work. He can’t even find Addis Ababa without asking Siri, but somehow he’s solved a civil war six time zones away.

Number six: The War on Drugs. 

Oh, this one’s my favorite.

He didn’t stop it — he started it. He militarized it, turned it into an actual war with troops, drones, and “unlawful combatants” who happen to be fishermen. He’s bombing boats in the Caribbean and calling it justice. That’s not peace, that’s a rerun of Vietnam with better branding. 

And he still expects the Peace Prize! That’s like shooting your neighbor and applying for Volunteer of the Year.

Oh, and let’s not forget “wars” he counts that don’t exist. He once claimed to have “ended the war on Christmas.” You know, the one invented by Fox News and peppermint-flavored outrage. So maybe that’s war number seven — the great Candy Cane Conflict of 2023.

And that’s his big list — the “eight or nine wars” he supposedly ended. 

Except none of them are over. Most are still going, one got worse, and a few he flat-out started himself. But hey, give the man credit: no one’s ever declared peace in so many places they can’t find on a globe.

But here’s the punchline, folks: this isn’t about peace. This is about power. Because now his toadies are saying, “He’s so great, let’s make him president for life!”

Representative Randy Fine — you know, one of those guys whose name doesn’t fit his job description —says we should repeal the 22nd Amendment and let Trump run again in 2028 if his Gaza plan works. Yeah. Because if he accidentally stumbles into a photo-op, we throw out the Constitution like last week’s Big Mac wrapper.

They’re selling Trump 2028 hats.

He’s joking — not joking — about finding “methods” to stay in power. It’s the old dictator’s playbook, folks, updated for the 21st Century:

Step 1 — say it as a joke.

Step 2 — sell it as merch.

Step 3 — swear it’s destiny.

And remember that line from July 2024? The one at that Christian rally where he said, “Get out and vote! Just this time. You won’t have to do it anymore! Four more years — it’ll be fixed, it’ll be fine — you won’t have to vote anymore.”

Read that again, slowly. 

That’s not a campaign promise — that’s a coup plan with a choir.

He literally promised to fix democracy so you’d never have to use it again. “Vote once, never again — Jesus and I got this.” That’s not faith, that’s fascism with better stage lighting.

And that’s where we are now: a president who thinks the Constitution is a list of suggestions and democracy is a tedious formality between coronations. He’s not content being president — he wants to be Donald the First, founder of the Holy MAGAdom of America,

 blessed by oil companies and baptized in Diet Coke.

So yeah, he didn’t win the Nobel Peace Prize.

But give him time. At this rate, he’ll rename it the Trump Peace & Prosperity Award,

 presented annually by a jury of billionaires and bootlickers, for “outstanding achievements in self-promotion under fire.”

And when he wins it, he’ll hold it up and say, “Nobody’s ever won more prizes for peace while starting this many fights.”

And you know what? For once, he’ll be right.