I’m way way way too lazy to go into any detail about the recent Olivia Nuzzi — RFK Jr romantic scandal, but I will give you my long Tweet hot take on the general scandal.
My key take away isn’t even about Nuzzi so much as the publication she works for — New York Magazine. I’ve always been fond of New York Magazine, even if sometimes it’s editorial judgement is a bit…uh…leaving something to be desired?
It has a tendency to pick up stories that are barely even the time of the old Gawker before it died, much less an actual print magazine. It was at the center of the “FOTUS” scandal where a lot of people — including myself — thought Trump might have forced a woman to have an abortion against her will.
Upon reflection, of course, that was very quaint thinking on our part. Trump simply is an absolute force of political nature now and I sometimes think even if he shuffled off this mortal coil, he would somehow still be a viable candidate.
Anyway, that’s not the only time New York Magazine has dabbled in dumb, weird stories that just make no sense if you hope to be taken seriously. Regardless, I’m just a rando in the middle of nowhere that no one takes seriously or listens to.
I began the long, long, long, long journey to writing my first novel because of a curious situation with Trump and a Playboy bunny. At the time, it seemed CLEAR that someone was playing fall guy for Trump having an affair with the woman.
But, alas, after much excitement –and a few phone calls with a reporter from The New York Times — it all collapsed. Trump had nothing to do it with it. I wrote a shit ton about this particular situation on this blog that I ultimately deleted.
I realized the poor woman had gone through enough and there just wasn’t any reason to keep it around. And, besides, I had begun my personal journey towards writing a novel and I had better things to do than worry about people asking me a lot of already-answered questions about something that did not, in fact, happen.
My only question is what specific event has caused a flood of people coming to this site just recently looking for information about this particular non-issue. They’re all coming from Twitter, as if they were searching for what happened and saw a link to one of my many now-deleted posts on this site.
I have to say that I low-key think it would be amusing if somehow “the truth” of what happened came out because of the Stormy Daniels trial happening at the moment.
I really monitor my Webstats to an absurd level. And, so, anything — and I mean ANYTHING — out of the ordinary causes me a great deal of speculation and entertainment. And, I have to admit, that there has been a noticeable uptick in people looking for information about the alleged affair that ding-dong Trump had with the Playboy model that was thought to have been covered up by another man. (I don’t want to use anyone’s names because, lulz, it proved not to be true, so why hash that all out again.)
The only reason why it’s interesting that people would be searching for my ranting about the weird situation with the Playboy model and Trump is…what’s their motivation? Is it actually possible that they know something new and that, in turn, has caused them to search for whatever they can find about the incident?
The idea that something new might have been discovered about what Trump didn’t do with a Playboy model is totally bonkers and pretty much is just something for me to think about when I’m not working on the second draft of my novel.
I’m satisfied that Trump had nothing to do with the woman and that the official story is the real story. So, I struggle to understand why there’s a sudden uptick in what was alleged to have happened. The most logical explanation is not that anything NEW has been discovered, but, rather given that a different Playboy model’s name has resurfaced in the news because of Trump’s indictment, people are interested in this long-debunked conspiracy theory.
The reason why I started working on a novel is because I was involved in something of a mystery involving Trump potentially getting a Playboy model he was involved with to have an abortion. That mystery was so compelling that I wanted to try to talk about it in fictional form.
But over the years, that desire fused with a number of other things to the point that, lulz, the actual story I’m working on at the moment has nothing to do with that original idea. The only reason why I talk about this is recently a growing number of people have been looking for my OCD writing about that particular mystery.
In hindsight, I’m very embarrassed that I got wrapped up in such a conspiracy theory. The point is — there’s no there there. Trump did not know the Playboy model in question and it was just a very, very strange coincidence that seemed to outwardly make it seem as though he did.
So, leave it be, folks. I know it’s exciting to think that Trump might have done something as dastardly as demand a lover have an abortion, but, he didn’t do it. For once, that ding-dong is in the clear. I have pretty much absolute, indirect proof relative to my own personal needs on the issue.
Though as we wait to find out what the 34 charges against Trump might be, it is mildly amusing to imagine a scenario where somehow Trump’s non-existence relationship with the woman was somehow involved.
It’s a great paper with a great tradition of quality journalism. When The Times tells me something, I believe it. No questions asked.
I do wonder, however, what their policies are on extreme cases. But why am I even thinking about this. If the New York Times tells you something, it’s right. That’s what I have to believe. I was told by the New York Times that the sky was blue and it’s blue. Doesn’t matter that I know damn well it’s sunset and it’s got a orange hue to it.
The New York Times knows what it’s talking about. That’s it.
I’m wrong. He was rich. She was pregnant. End of story. I get it. I’ve embarrassed myself and I really need to move on. I think I’m going to start working on my novel again today. That’s it. Go for a walk, accept that I’m wrong and move on. I tried my best. But everyone who seems to look into this either flatly states there’s no there there or can’t find anything of note. So, that’s it. All of this is silly.
One of the key political events of my young life was my dad got mad over a stoplight that made it so people couldn’t make a u-turn. It really hurt his business and he fought authority and he won.
I was hanging out in Richmond’s Fan area today sobering up and enjoying the hot afternoon, when I noticed an attractive young lady drinking, eating and talking with her friend. I sat there, looking straight at her and tried to figure out how I could possibly talk to her. She was wearing sunglasses and occasionally she would look straight back at me.
Now, I’m older and jaded so really my interest in her was more about how drunk I was and the fact that she was in direct eyeshot than anything else. I struggled to figure out different ways that we could meet. I thought about what little I knew about game theory and couldn’t think of anything.
Unless she did something really conspicuous to give me some hook, some reason to believe she wanted me to talk to her, I was at a loss. And that was that. I paid my tab, walked right past her, she seemed to subtly flinch when I didn’t talk to her and was on my way.
That’s how I feel about #FOTUS at this point.
Trump’s potential involvement is staring straight at me in the guise of that $1.6 million pay off, but I got nothing. Nothing at all. No evidence that the whole, “He was rich. She was pregnant. End of Story,” thing isn’t true. So, if you continue to read any of my rantings on this subject either you’re a hater who is hate reading, someone who thinks I’m a fool or a sympathetic conspiracy theorist.
But I have to accept that I’m never going to meet the girl. Unless New York Magazine writes a follow up or the SDNY has something up their sleeve, this story is, at last over.
My plan today is to wait until about 11 a.m. and walk to the nearby Mexican restaurant, drink a Miller Light and drink a tequila or two, come home, take a nap and contemplate going to Richmond’a Fan district this afternoon to take pictures. Relative to me, as of right now, I have no reason to believe anything of note is going to happen other than waking up on the wrong side of the bed. I feel a bit of out sorts and I don’t know why.
Having said all that, I don’t know what’s going to happen.
I don’t want to speculate that anything of note on the #FOTUS front might happen anytime soon. I have too much of a vested interest at this point to be objective. I only say that because I’ve really put myself out there. A lot depends on how airtight the Broidy cover story is. If it’s a cover story at all. If it’s a cover story and when a journalist or two throws a rock into the Big Black Void and nothing pops out saying shut up, it Bechard was dating Broidy and here’s proof, then TrumpCohen has a problem.
A big problem.
And, let me note, the only reason why I even bring up “Wilson” as I think of it — named after the Cast Away volleyball — is that $1.6 million NDA payoff. You can explain everything else away. You can say that the reason why Broidy picked Cohen is he knew him through the RNC and he wanted to keep the matter private. That’s a perfectly logical explanation.
Except for the $1.6 million.
I still believe that’s an enormous sum for an NDA payoff, even if you say Broidy was extremely embarrassed by all of this and he was feeling exceptionally generous. Throw in that Bechard was represented by TrumpCohen best buddy Keith Davidson and that Broidy, Davidson and Cohen had every vested interest in screwing over Bechard by lowballing her and something does not add up.
It so does not add up that just like when I was walking around work on Wednesday and the skies opened and a thunderclap of realization struck me, you have to stare into the Big Black Void and scream: WILSON.
Everyone’s lying. Or at least screw with people’s minds.
Wilson is to me that moment when you have taken your shoes and watch off and the plane abruptly goes into a tailspin. Everything changes and you have to hold on for dear life. But I have so often ventured out beyond the horizon of the known so many times only to be completely embarrassed that it’s very possible I’m delusional. It’s very possible that Broidy really was paying off a babydaddy issue and Trump was completely unconnected. That’s a real possibility at this point.
As I have said more than once, everything we know says Trump’s the babydaddy, and everything we don’t know says it’s Broidy. It doesn’t take too much for me to wince at how ridiculous I’ve been in my speculation. But the continued silence on the part of the Big Black Void is…odd.
I’ve been really conspicuous on this Website talking about this and add to that the New York Magazine articles and I, of all people, would have been poked by someone, telling me I’m being a dick and to shut up. That would be enough to shut me up pretty quick. You could say that the people who know the truth, that it’s Broidy, either are constrained by the NDA or don’t care enough to correct me.
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