There are way bigger problems in America right now, but I’m trying to get the ol’ blogging fingers back in shape, so forgive me for relying on a crutch that served me way too well for way too long:
Making fun of moron celebrities for doing moron things with their moron sex parts.
In my defense, Donald Trump falls directly into that category, and his insecurity about said sex parts might cause a nuclear holocaust because we’re living in goddamn Revelations.
Anyway, if evangelicals were capable of shame, they would have watched in horror last week as the civilized world learned that their Orange Messiah was accused of having an affair with porn star Stormy Daniels while his third wife Melania tended to their newborn son. (In fairness to the Religious Right, these allegations are significantly less awful than Roy Moore’s Child Rape Revival that they endorsed in droves, so… praise Jesus?) There were also tawdry details about Trump allegedly telling Daniels that she looked just like Ivanka in case everyone forgot all of those times that the President of the United States said he’d bang his own daughter. (Once again, in fairness to superstitious looney bins, tons of incest in the Bible. Just loads of it.)
For the record, Vice President Mike Pence has called the allegations “baseless” despite the fact that he’s not Donald Trump and didn’t even know the president until just before the election. (And barely does now.) Not to mention the fact that Mike Pence is a weird religious nutjob who calls his wife “Mother” and is terrified of other women, so excuse me for not trusting a guy who thinks vaginas are Satan’s tractor beam.
But back to my gross-ass point, while the Stormy Daniels situation unfolded, a thought occurred to me: There’s no way in hell Trump isn’t still having awful, missionary style sex with someone who isn’t the First Lady on the reg. And sure enough, Fire and Fury: Inside the Trump White House author Michael Wolff basically suggested that Trump is having an affair during an appearance on Real Time with Bill Maher.
Granted, there have been tons of reasonable arguments for why Michael Wolff’s book should or shouldn’t be taken with copious amounts of salt. So without getting lost down that rabbit hole, fuck it. Forget the book. Let’s go with what we definitively know about Trump.
He’s an asshole.
And like most assholes, Trump is set in his ways and refuses to change. He’s the fucking president, and yet almost every weekend, the toupee’d yam jets off to Florida. And when he is at the White House, he spends most of his time watching Fox News while scarfing down McDonald’s. The guy has lived his whole life doing whatever the fuck he wants, and clearly, he’s not about to let running an entire country interrupt his routine. A routine that, by the way, involves chasing tail. Or more specifically, grabbing it.
But here’s the truly fucked up part, America knew who Donald Trump was before the white, Bible-humping parts elected him president. Why would he change now? The crazy bastard actually believes he won the popular vote, and he tweets five times a day that he’s the bestest president that ever presidented. Self-reflection isn’t going to be an issue here. If his orange butthole mouth woofed down McDonald’s and extramarital affairs before the election, then dammit, his orange butthole mouth is going to keep doing it after the election because that’s his reward. He’s the president, and you’re not.
And to really make your goddamn head explode, we’re about to watch the crowd that tried to impeach Bill Clinton over a blowjob decry puritanism out of one side of their mouths while simultaneously letting health workers refuse treatment to LBGT patients because we’re not allowed to burn witches in a modern society. For now.
“But what the president does in the Lincoln Bedroom next to a bucket of KFC is his business. Who are we to judge?” is what you’re about to hear from someone trying to make it legal to fire a bazooka into a Planned Parenthood.
God bless America.