A Day in the Life of the Norwegian Nobel Committee: Trump’s Prize Pursuit Turns Into a Clown Show
Picture the Norwegian Nobel Committee’s day: a serene Oslo office, coffee brewing, and the lofty task of sorting through 2025 peace nominations. Then – BAM! – the phone explodes. It’s Donald Trump, back with his regular pitch for the Nobel Peace Prize, asking if his odds are looking “yuge.”
Most of their day? Dodging this relentless charm offensive, turning a dignified process into a three-ring circus starring the president as the ringmaster with a comb-over.
Here’s a peek at their chaotic routine as they duck Trump’s wild peace pitches.
9:00 AM – The Morning Buzz
The Committee huddles to review nominations – papers rustle, coffee spills – when the phone shrieks. It’s the White House. Trump’s touting “peace on Washington’s streets” as a winner, claiming he tamed a riot with a single tweet. The Chair, channeling a saint with a migraine, explains (for the 17th time this week) that D.C. isn’t a recognised war zone – yet. Trump counters, “Fake news! I saw tanks!” Cue awkward silence.
9:30 AM – Back to Work, Briefly
They dive into a Sudan humanitarian project, scribbling notes, until – ring ring. Trump’s “just checking in,” casually asking if the Committee has received the complimentary breakfast vouchers for the Mara-a-Lago Golf Club. When a committee member advises that gifts are considered bribes – which disqualify nominees – Trump denies that it’s him on the phone. Blames Pete Hegseth.
10:15 AM – Inbox Invasion
An email pings: “Nobel Prize – Just FYI” from Trump’s personal account. Attached: an autographed photo of Putin in Alaska, captioned “Historic Peace Meeting. Autograph is symbolic.” The Committee exchanges looks – half amused, half exasperated. The photo was last seen stuck on the dartboard in the tea room.
Another nomination for Donald Trump arrives (via a VPN server) from “Krakatoaputinistan,” a country no one has heard of, can pronounce, or find on a map. It’s the eighth country this week that ends in “… istan” that has nominated Trump. Laughter erupts – Trump’s global fan club is clearly outsourcing!
11:00 AM – Phone Mutiny
The Committee debates silencing the phone. A junior member Googles “How to block a VIP nutjob” but learns it’s illegal for official lines. Groans ensue.
Yet another nomination for Trump is received, this one from California governor Gavin Newsom. The Committee suspect it is forged. The Washington ISP was the giveaway.
1:00 PM – Lunchtime Laughter
Working lunch. Sandwiches, tea… and the phone again. Trump asks if they’ve made a decision yet, because “it would be nice to announce before the weekend – ratings, you know?” Someone chokes on their cucumber sandwich.
2:00 pm – Urgent Nonsense
Email from White House marked “Urgent” but not “In Confidence.” It reads; “The White House is proud to announce that over breakfast President Trump ended three wars without even knowing it. Not even the President can keep up with the numbers – too many to count.”
3:00 pm – Photo Fiasco
The Committee resumes deliberations, this time on climate peace efforts in the Pacific. A courier arrives with a framed photo of Trump, signed “Your Future Laureate.” No return address, but everyone knows where it came from.
4:45 pm – Diplomatic Dodge
The Chair drafts a polite statement thanking all nominees and reminding the public that the Nobel Peace Prize is awarded based on “significant, lasting contributions to peace.” A second draft removes the word “lasting” to avoid diplomatic fallout – Trump’s feelings are spared, barely.
5:00 pm – The Great Escape
Coats on, lights out. The phone rings one last time. Nobody answers. The Committee flees into the Oslo dusk, vowing to update their voicemail: “Nominations closed. No calls, please.”
Meanwhile, in Washington, a caller mutters to himself; “Answer the bloody phone… I’ve got the clincher: God has spoken – there’s a place for me in Heaven.”
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All the evidence is that the trumper is idiotic enough to do that – day after day after day..
Remember that in British slang a trumper is a farter.
Sound appropriate?
The rotten rosy repulsive ripe rogered ring award for furuncular services to civilisation must go to President Itchidiki-Hunn, a hero. (just ask him)
the day that he is awarded the Peace Prize will be then end of all the Nobel prizes – nobody will want to be in the same company as DT
And now for something completely off the planet even for the orange madman:
https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2025/08/21/trump-heaven/85754921007/
Loonier and more demented than wanting a peace prize.
GL, hence my last paragraph.
He’ll probably say he’s been nominated.