Sooo, there’s a new book coming about Donald Trump and the White House. It’s called Fire and Fury: Inside Trumps White House by Michael Wolff.
I’m sure you’ve heard about it by now, especially considering the ongoing meltdown on display by our president and his legal team. In case you haven’t, to give you a sense of the book’s tone, Bannon refers to Ivanka Trump as “dumb as a brick” and describes the meeting between possible envoys for the Russian government and Donald Trump Jr. – the smaller of Trump’s two Large Adult Sons – as “treasonous.”
Naturally, Trump is unhappy; as of press time, Steve Bannon has attempted to walk back his comments, even going so far as to praise Trump as a “great man.” Despite Bannon’s cuck-like withering in the face of Trump’s ire, the book has already been written; with that in mind, here are some other tidbits we hope Bannon was able to include in his tell-all.
Donald Trump Does, In Fact, Watch A Shitload Of TV
Donald Trump clearly spends the majority of his waking hours watching TV and/or tweeting about something he just saw on TV. And that’s…I don’t know, fine, I guess. I mean, it’s not fine that a sitting president apparently has more free time to dedicate to television than he does to restoring power to Puerto Rico (105 days and counting, folks), but considering the deleterious effects of his other habits, it’s fine. It’s fine.
What makes it so bizarre is that Trump steadfastly denies watching much television at all. Not only is Trump’s claim easily disprovable, but it’s also an incredibly weird and dumb thing to lie about. If he were smart – big “if,” I know – he would spin it as a positive; after all, he’s (kinda) watching (conservative propaganda dressed up as) the news. Leave it to Donald Trump to be presented with a story that could potentially make him look good and end up shooting himself in the dick.
Which is why it would be great if this book could put this to rest once and for all. Regale us with your memories of walking in on Trump in an open bathrobe shouting at the television. Tell us about the time you had to turn off the TV in the middle of a segment so our president wouldn’t miss a meeting, only to realize during the meeting that he was still thinking about TV.
Exactly How Dumb Is Ivanka, Anyway?
Remember when George W. Bush was president and his supporters used to say things like “He’s actually a very smart guy, he’s just a terrible public speaker?” Well, Ivanka’s sort of the opposite of that: she’s exceptionally composed when it comes to her public image, but I’d bet that underneath the veneer of quiet, thoughtful confidence lies a woman who’s just as big of an idiot as the rest of her family and has simply learned how to hide it better.
The only stories I want to hear about Ivanka Trump are stories that confirm my suspicions. Something like the precise number of times she was caught wandering around the halls of the White House with a pleasant yet vacant smile on her face, looking busy but never actually going anywhere. I want to know exactly how many times she opened a door thinking it would be a conference room but was in reality just a supply closet; more importantly, I want to know exactly how many times she kept trying that same door before a member of the White House staff gently guided her to her destination. Don’t deprive me of this, please.
Melania Hates Her Husband, Right?
On one hand, I kinda feel for Melania Trump. She didn’t ask for this life; in fact, she might be the only person who wanted Donald Trump to be president less than Donald Trump wanted to be president.
But on the other hand…HAHAHAHAHAHAHA SUCKS TO BE YOU. It’s hard to feel sympathy for someone who, despite no doubt having previously heard of Donald Trump and the way he treats women, still decides to fucking marry the guy. You made your bed, lady.
Either way, she’s gotta despise him, right? Just from a general relationship standpoint, they appear to have nothing in common. She’s a former model, he’s a lumpy sack of dough; she’s fluent in five languages, he’s a C student (at best) in his native tongue; she’s a devoted mother, he wants to bang his daughter; the list goes on. So please, tell us about all the times you saw her glaring at her husband with undisguised contempt. America needs this.
Sean Spicer Was A Crier, Wasn’t He?
If I were a betting man who owned a home, I’d take out a second mortgage on that fucker to lay down a wager that Sean Spicer cried at least five times during his time as White House Press Secretary. There’s just no way that Spicer – once described on Twitter as looking like “the guy in the group of survivors that hides the fact he was bitten by a zombie” – got through his disgracefully-short tenure in the White House without leaking some tears.
So, now’s the time to tell us about Spicer standing in the Oval Office, doing his best to keep his lower lip from quivering as Trump yells at him for not getting the world to believe whatever insane bullshit Trump wanted him to sell. Tell us what it sounded like to hear his quivering breath. Describe the delicate, wordless path his tears took as they streamed down his inept, soon-to-be-fired face.
Reince Priebus: Ode To A Grecian Turd
I want to turn the page and see in big, bold letters: “Chapter 11: Reince Priebus.” And underneath it, I sincerely hope the only text is “LOL, fuck that guy.” Make it happen.
Nobody Really Listens To Trump, Do They?
This one’s really just for my own sanity, but it would be great if there are some anecdotes in there about the number of times Trump demanded that some sort of action be taken, only for people to quietly ignore their orders and count on Trump forgetting he ever said it.
I would imagine working for Donald Trump is like working for David Brent from the British version of The Office: you hope like hell that he doesn’t see you when he’s roaming the halls avoiding work, you do your best to stay on his good side, and you smile politely at his jokes, all while silently begging a God that clearly does not exist for the sweet release of death.
(That would make you Dwight Schrute, by the way. Sounds about right.)
How Desperate Are Eric and Don Jr. For Their Father’s Love?
It’s gotta be difficult knowing that on your best day, you’re little more than an afterthought to your father. But considering how odious and unfathomably stupid Trump’s eldest sons appear to be, I think we’d all take much more joy in reading about their attempts to do something, anything to elicit even a nod of approval from their father.
More importantly, I want to hear about the various massive fuck-ups they’ve weathered in pursuit of that goal. I want to hear how, in a family comprised seemingly entirely of Fredos, they manage to out-Fredo one another at every turn.
Tell me about the time you caught Don Jr. in the White House bushes after he fell off an extension ladder that he’d (incorrectly) set up in the hopes of catching just a glimpse of his father. Bless us with your memories of Eric Trump dressing up like the Ambassador to Luxembourg because that was the only way he could get Donald to take a meeting with him. Or what about the time you heard the president say “I’m very proud of you, Tiffany,” but then you entered the room and saw that he was talking to an upturned mop with “TIMOTHY” on the handle?
These are the stories that I need to hear; nay, these are the stories America needs to hear.