Anyone seen my cell? It’s this tall and has a blue background with little icons on it. Should be easy enough to find,/Image: Licensed Adobe stock, Maksym Yeneyanov.
Hey, my right-wing Chatty Cathys!
It’s me, Bubbles MacMillan, your uber-connected right-wing gossip with some seriously juicy tidbits for you., as always. I have GOT to tell you something–but shhhhhh! You can’t tell anyone else! Lean in close!
Everyone once in a while, over here at everyone’s favorite what-the-fudge-is-the-point Alt-right lifestyle blog, a.k.a, Spread Your Right Wings (SYRW), we like to switch things up, keep you on your toes, and put a little bulge in your eyes. It’s good for the proliferation of your right-wing neurons! And lord knows we the conservative people could use all the intra-synaptic help we could get. We’re excellent, excellent, excellent at dealing with change, right fellow reactionaries? We’re having a great reaction to tiny increments of advancement women and minorities have struggled so hard for. After all, when they asked us to please share some of that cultural capital we’ve been hogging for multiple millennia, we just elected a psychopath to run the country–run it into the ground, that is. So, the variety-based fun I’m talking right now, though, is that my column is being brought to a screen very near you on Tuesday instead of Wednesday! That’s probably all the amendment you, my Alt-ilk can handle, I’m guessing, given that if someone brings up amending the Second Amendment, we freak the pussy-grab out!
On to my wipe-your-chin juicy gossip for today! It would appear, in this twisting, turning, nausea-inducing, palace-intrigue-and outrage-fatigue Trump Era the surprises never, ever, ever stop coming–did I mention never?–as we over here on the elephantine side of the political spectrum know. It’s enough to give you whiplash, shock-like-a-splash, break-out-in-a-stress-rash.
Hello–Anyone Alt-Home?
Congressional Democrats Reps. Ted Lieu (D-Ca.) and Ruben Gallego (D-Ar.) sent a letter to three federal agencies asking they make certain President Donald J. Trump’s telecommunications occur with the proper safeguards in place to prevent a third-party gaining access to sensitive information he might be discussing, reported Meagan Vazquez of CNN Monday.
For once in their sad, bitter-losers lives, Democrats do our dear Don Jon a solid, but as always, they’re barking up the wrong tree, though one that’s in a related arboreal grove. How gloat-worthy for us, the right-wing, that the poor chumps on the left continue to follow rules of decorum, protocol, and political mores to get stuff done in Washington, D.C. They still haven’t caught on the fact that they could just through traditional-caution-in-place-for-a-reason to the wind and basically do whatever they had to to get what they want, as we Alt-ers and our leaders proudly, openly, and cringeworthily do.
They also don’t know that whether or not Trump’s cell phone use is protected is a big, “Who Cares Burger,” because he’s using it for some decidedly unpolitical purposes.
Don’t Need Nothin’ But a Good Time
So sang 1908s heavy metal band Poison, and it could be the soundtrack for this section of this Gossip tale I’m about to tell you. The main purpose for Trump’s personal cell phone use of late is that he’s an Alt-right man–nay, THE Alt-right man. And all Alt-right men need to have their lascivious, lusty, and old-and-crusty libidos stoked every once in a while, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s often an important part of a healthy marital sex life! The dude, in this case, Trump, calls an 866 number to chat with a lewd, rude, and probably tattooed lady to make his cock the trigger on his gun, pun intended, but before she vocally pulls his trigger, they part ways, told me a collusively-connected White House source who spoke on the condition of anonymity. Then Trump can go back to Melania’s bedroom, taking his verbally-Viagra-ed you-know-what with him, give the door a timorous knock, and quietly ask if he could join her.
“Dear, may I grab your p—y?” my source told me he says to her, tenderly, as he does so many things, after he hangs up with Trina, Jeanette, or whatever stripper-who-lost-her-figure he just spoke to at the 866 number.
What’s In Store for Trump
The second most common motivator for Trump when he’s using the cell phone he doesn’t pay with bounced checks from his personal checking account is counseling of sorts. Trump, like Nancy Reagan before him, believes strongly that the alignment of celestial bodies not only explains human personality types, but that it can give him clues about what’s to conserva-come in the future.
Hence, he calls psychic hotlines, one in particular, which my second confidential White House source refused to name, for fear of being exposed as another leaker in the leakiest presidential administration around. The top two are Trump and Kellyanne Conway, by the way, the news of which SYRW brought you recently.
And: How to live the Alt-dream and be self-employed.
“President Trump desperately wants to self-impose order, insight, and augury on his Commander-in-Chief, despite what the Liberal Media Mafia would have you believe, namely that he governs in a manner chaotic, disorganized, and Alzheimer’s-y.
When you can call a pay-for-predictions advisor, there’s no need to educate yourself on the ins and outs and lefts and right-wings of policy, governing, or the issues at stake, my second source told me over martinis at the Waldorf, and I agreed. Her eyebrows jumped as she shrugged her shoulders and gulped down the last of her gin-and-vermouth potation. Makes sense to me–and I know it does to you, rightist-readers, too.
Be It Ever So Humble…and a Money Pit
The last reason Trump’s cell phone use has ratcheted up like Occupational Safety and Health Administration complaints since Trump’s deregulatory push began. And, on top of that, it’s for someone else, which gives the lie to the left’s obviously true assertion that all Trump cares about is himself.
“Trumpistan is using his personal cell phone to try to get Jared [Kushner, his son-in-law] a refinanced and renegotiated mortgage from lending firm Rokk-It Mortgage,” a third, jittery-because-she-might-get-caught White House source told me. The Pops-in-Law wants to get Jared a good deal on a loan for his deeply-in-debt 666 Fifth Avenue high rise, which he sank a ton of moola into and now can’t get anyone to live in.
I know we right-wingers, spreading our wings and flying off to Jupiter where our heads already got a quaint pied-a-terre near the eye of that giant, swirling storm, already know what a giving human our dear Orange One is, but it’s important I and SYRW keep a journalistic record of it. That way, when we get into arguments on the topic of The Donald’s stellar moral character, we can print these pages out and wave them angrily, poking them with our index fingers for even greater rhetorical emphasis, in the face of our hippie-dippie interlocutors.
The Political Operatives That Gossip Together,…
As always, dear SYRW readers-who-can-barely-string-an-intelligent-sentence-together, it’s been so whisperingly, sweet-nothing-ly, speculatively fantabulous spending this waste-of-time with you. You make me want to shout from the collapsing-from-deregulation rooftops my unadulterated, unmitigated, and so-far-non-litigated joy in getting to share unsubstantiated chatter about all the wacky, wonderful, weird-and-non-wistful rot-from-the-inside goings-on at ol’ 1600 Pennslyvania Avenue, the home of the darkest, dankest, in-prison-Manafort’s-gonna-get-a-shank-est White House since…well, ever! And I don’t think, but know, that the world, and this human species infecting it like a plague, is a little better off because I did exactly zilch, zip, and part-them-lips-to-flip-on-the-Trump-White-House to make better any situation bedeviling homo sapiens since time immemorial or since last week. Either way–I didn’t help! And that feels good.
Also: Three games to gladden and glee-ify your conservative soul-palimpsest.
Until next week, SYRW readers, remember: you didn’t hear this from me!
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© 2018 Akbar Khan
