When he returns from golf, Allan, some pee on POTUS’pillow, and this:

Dearest Donald,

Thanks for the card, Dear, and thanks for the poem
Here’s mine, dumbshit, a little kick in the scrotum
You say I’m not sexy, like Ivanka, the first daughter
Those boobs you touch too much; those I bought her
One thing you’re right about, I married for money
It wasn’t for the sex, which I get on the side, honey
Go and shtup Stormy, I don’t care you have whores
And, yes, I was knocked up, but the kid isn’t yours.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Donald,

P.S. I’M WITH HER!