What do they call Trump in France?

What do they call Trump in France?

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the cucoomber

Les Presidontia est numero UN!

a fucking orange cocksucker with a slut commieblock wife

Trump est l'empereur de l'univers.

Une tasse du merdre! Une monde du merdre!

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Obéis au Dieu Orange, aux paysans, ou fais face à ta mort.

la tête du gobelin du mélangeur du nord du mexique

Sir

Napoleon IV

Cuck à l'Orange

un cocksucker orange putain avec une femme salope commieblock

Sorry I just really wanted to read that in French.

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Don a l’orange
or
L’atout

Un putain de suceur de bite orange avec une salope des pays de l'Est.

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Putain pour les juifs (I can't find the photo anymore...)

I hate this language...

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Juif

It's latin, the retarded version, mixed with some germanic whatever. I hate it.

رجل برتقالي سيء

waifu, moar

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I think they call him le Drumpf. In Germany we call him der Trumpler or Monsieur jew jew cum.

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ورقة رابحة

Hans is right you now. He takes Kushners Jew Loads In his fagmouth.

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Dead nigger storage?

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Infidale.

Tggump

>Le Royal
wtf?

/thread

Best post.

>What do they call Trump in France?

"Les Testicules d'Acier"

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Finally!

Esclave de juifs

Jet fuel can't melt steel balls

Just a guess... but "Donald Trump"?

fucking kek

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I met Donald Trump once. He was in Scotland traveling with his parents. They were visiting my small village as my parents are second cousins with his parents. I had not been introduced formally but knew he looked like his late grandfather.

He happened to be at my house one morning whilst I was making breakfast. By at my house I mean he was just standing in the garden tamping around on some plants muttering "..killing taters, killin taters..". I didnt think he knew I was there till he froze and stared me right in the eye, and whispered, "ye dont want a case of the Irish, do ye lassie?". I said, N-no..? He looked a me and just kept interrupting me saying No!..No?..No! as he pushed his way into my kitchen.

He conspicuously protected his bosoms with his hands as if he was afraid they would brush against me as he slid by. Once in the kitchen he asked where "my ole man" was, but he had forgotten he had recently died. He pretended to look out the window as he snatched hot pancakes off a plate and shoved them into his trouser pockets. He smiled and slinked back out the door, stopping to tip the kipper tin he was wearing as a hat to say "cheerio" to a picture of my late husband.

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الله أكبر

underrated post

OP I bet you believed this story too.

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>Gorilla channel
But BET does exist

"Better than Macron"

test