Hello peeps. I had a fantastic night yesterday evening on Twitter. With #goldenshowers and #watergate and all these other hilarious trending topics coming down the chute, who wouldn’t be having a good time? Donald Trump, that’s who.
Okay, so the truth. No, Donald Trump didn’t get peed on. No, he didn’t pull an R. Kelly. What supposedly, allegedly, maybe happened is that Trump hired Russian prostitutes to piss on a bed in the presidential suite of a hotel because the Obamas had once slept in it. It wasn’t a sexual situation. It was a “Fuck you” statement. “Haha, lookit the ladies pee on a place a better man than me once slept, haha.” The thing is, it’s just the kind of behavior we’ve come to expect from Trump.
Last night, when the unverified (I cannot stress enough how unsubstantiated these claims are) news broke like a strained bladder, Trump lost his mind and defended himself with an all-caps tweet of “FAKE NEWS – A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT!” leading even more to believe that the claims had some truth to them.
Do I care if the news is fake? Nope. And here’s why.
Trump’s campaign and rise to the highest office in the land was fueled by fake news. To watch Trump lose his shit trying to contain this dumpster fire like the ones he is known to create was beautiful. Like seeing an arsonist burst into flames, or a terrorist exploding on his way to his target and killing no one but himself. It filled my heart with glee to know that the King of Bullshit was being buried under what might be nothing but a fabricated pile of steaming leavings.
Yesterday was great, man. We learned Dylann Roof will one day be put to death for his crimes, and then we got to see our own orange buffoon spew all-caps rage over the same kinda shit that put him in power. Fucking. Glorious.
Even if this is one shining moment in a dark time, I think it makes it that much more special. Am I being petty? Yeah, I am. And I don’t care if you agree. I will cherish last night for years to come.
See you tomorrow,
Pic of the Day