TX Lt. Gov. Patrick attending The Don’s felony trial in NYC

Without so much as a courtesy text to his contributors, Danny had the sheer chutzpah to swipe campaign funds for a United Airlines ticket costing $1,386.96 — Houston to New York City. Because apparently, loyalty points weren’t enough; he needed loyalty dollars too. The text box below evidences Danny's misue of contributor funds.

Now, let’s be honest: Danny’s delicate sense of modesty simply wouldn’t allow him to sit back in

economy with the rest of us mere mortals. Heaven forbid he endure the indignity of rubbing elbows with — gasp — a registered Democrat, a janitor, or, clutch your pearls, a gay person. The horror! The trauma! The potential exposure to… humanity.

Of course, a roundtrip ticket from Houston to Austin would’ve been about $400 in 2024, saving his contributors nearly $900. But Danny, ever the gentleman, chose the respectable path: protecting his dignity at all costs. After all, why risk a bruised ego when you can bruise your donors’ wallets instead?

So, congratulations, Danny. You managed to turn campaign donations into your own personal frequent flyer program. Meanwhile, I’m stuck selling orthopedic shoes to people who think Velcro is a fashion statement. Life ain’t fair, but at least I didn’t blow a grand to sit next to Trump.

The Picture of Donnie and Danny (aka, the DD “Dumb and Dumber” Twins)

As for the picture above, it allegedly shows Patrick attempting to comfort The Don’s tragically pulverized heart — snapped mere seconds after The Don was found unjustly (oops, sorry, justly) guilty by a jury of his peers on 34 felony counts.

It was a scene straight out of a low‑budget sitcom:

The Don dramatically clutching his chest like Fred Sanford, Patrick hovering nearby like a nervous intern who just spilled coffee on the CEO’s lap.

Naturally, The Don and his loyal sidekick Patrick immediately declared that not a single one of the 12 jurors could ever be considered his peer.

The Don then launched into one of his signature monologues — the kind where the studio audience would groan audibly:

“Which of those 12 losers has ever spent a lifetime engaging in dishonest business practices—

oh wait, sorry folks, the Dementia kicked in again—

I mean a lifetime of honest business practices like I’ve been universally praised for?”

Patrick, whose job description apparently includes “agree with everything The Don says, even the parts that contradict the other parts,” responded with the enthusiasm of a kid who just got a free puppy:

“Right on, Big Donnie, you be the Man!”

The moment was touching in the same way watching two raccoons fight over a half‑eaten hot dog behind a Toledo Speedway concession stand is touching:

chaotic, dramatic, and somehow deeply symbolic.

Together, they stood united — two titans of self‑pity, bravely facing the cruel injustice of being held accountable for things they definitely, absolutely, unquestionably didn’t do.

(Except for the parts they did.)