Donald Trump has groupies, cheerleaders, supporters, people who don’t care one way or the other, skeptics, and ardent #NeverTrump soldiers. I’m whatever category is best represented by that sound you make after a long day and there’s nothing to do but watch reruns of Friends. Lacking the energy to do something productive. Like, say, picking lint out of my navel. Most days, that’s how I feel about Trump.
Yeah, yeah, he’s better than Hillary. Thanks for playing, slaves to whataboutism.
Maybe it’s my unenthusiasm for Trump. Maybe it’s my interest in things like the culture war. Maybe it’s because I’m a Millennial worried about my quarter-life crisis rounding the bases and heading toward mid-life crises. Plural. Whatever “it” is, I just don’t care about Stormy Daniels.
How much do I not care about Stormy Daniels? Passionately. I passionately do not care about Stormy Daniels. Signed NDAs. Payoffs. How Michael Cohen did whatever he supposedly did. I’d rather read about insurance rates. Cuticle management. Tips on how to keep my refrigerator virgin clean. The grooming habits of Porgs. Anything other than Stormy Daniels.
I was trying to get into this story late this morning after the Guliani “Bombshell.” Thinking maybe it had finally become interesting, this “scandal” thrust upon the nation like an unwanted Amy Schumer RomCom. But I stopped reading the article to talk to Not Gay Jared. Actually, reverse that. I was using the excuse to talk to Not Gay Jared to get out of the “Bombshell” Guliani story. Grabbing at any possible excuse I could find. I almost stabbed my own eye out. I really owe Jared for saving me from so much dangerous boredom.
No, Jared and I didn’t discuss Stormy Daniels. Because outside of media, no one cares about Stormy Daniels.
Media is trying to turn this story into a scandalous circus. A tabloid hot-seller. A future made-for-TV-movie starring Alec Baldwin and Jennifer Love Hewitt. Which, sure, it has all the elements. A porn star. A president. A payoff. But there’s one key element missing: how this matters to anyone in America.
Pardon my willful ignorance on the matter, but as I understand it from not even Cliff’s Notes knowledge, this affair happened before Trump trounced Hillary in the race for the White House. Meaning it’s old news. It didn’t happen while Trump was president. It happened before. When it happened exactly… I can’t even hold enough interest to Google it. What if I get distracted by an advertisement for a Fossil watch? So shiny!
Another theory: no one is surprised Trump boinked a porn star. He or she shocked that a wealthy man who is on tape bragging about grabbing women’s private parts, had relations with a woman who makes money having relations, raise your hand. Wherever you fall on the This is How Much I Love/Hate Trump spectrum, let’s not pretend Donald Trump is on Pope Francis’s top ten list of who to canonize next.
Let’s also not discount the continued failure of OMG, RUSSIA “scandal” that really never was. Media was desperate to turn Trump into Putin’s cockholster, or cockgobbler — whatever crude term “comedian” Stephen Colbert used that one time, they’ve lost perspective on that which matters. Like Obamacare. Taxes. National Security. Protection of gun laws. What’s for dinner tonight. What’s for snack. Kanye’s new album “Dragon Energy.” The merits of bedazzling table lamps. How Kanye feels about table lamps.
Some in media may point to “But what about Monica and Bill Clinton!” which I’ll address. Bill Clinton porked Monica while in the White House, then later lied about it. Under oath. Clinton also had a history of raping women. Not to be confused with consensual relationships with porn stars.
Apples. Orange combovers.
Donald Trump is far from pristine. He’s but one year into his presidency. Odds are he will have a legitimate scandal. But this “That One Summer at Stormy’s” isn’t it.
So please, for the love of all that actually matters, can we stop trying to make Stormy Daniels a thing?
~ Written by someone more bored with Stormy Daniels than human apathy can measure