Ohhh, we have GOT him now!
Donald Trump bragged in vulgar terms about kissing, groping and trying to have sex with women during a 2005 conversation caught on a hot microphone, saying that “when you’re a star, they let you do it,” according to a video obtained by The Washington Post.
The video captures Trump talking with Billy Bush, then of “Access Hollywood,” on a bus with the show’s name written across the side. They were arriving on the set of “Days of Our Lives” to tape a segment about Trump’s cameo on the soap opera.
“I did try and f— her. She was married,” Trump says.
“I moved on her like a bitch, but I couldn’t get there. And she was married,” Trump says. “Then all of a sudden I see her, she’s now got the big phony tits and everything. She’s totally changed her look.”
At that point in the audio, Trump and Bush appear to notice Arianne Zucker, the actress who is waiting to escort them into the soap-opera set.
“Your girl’s hot as s—, in the purple,” says Bush, who’s now a co-host of NBC’s “Today” show.
“Whoa!” Trump says. “Whoa!”
“I’ve got to use some Tic Tacs, just in case I start kissing her,” Trump says. “You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful — I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait.”
“And when you’re a star, they let you do it,” Trump says. “You can do anything.”
“Whatever you want,” says another voice, apparently Bush’s.
“Grab them by the p—y,” Trump says. “You can do anything.”
My GOD, but I feel faint! Trump is guilty—GUILTY!—of talking like just about every other red-blooded American male not currently sporting a dress and trying to ooze his way into the little girl’s bathroom by claiming he “feels pretty”?!? UNCLE PETER, MY SMELLING SALTS!
If you’re the kind of student-council dweeb that isn’t aware that most men—most MEN, that is—routinely talk about getting some pussy, getting laid, taxing that ass, banging that box, chasing beaver—about tits, ass, legs, jugs, boobs, butts, the glories of tight pink nipples versus pepperonis or Crunchberries, then you have led a sheltered life indeed.
Here’s a clue for those still hiding behind mama’s skirts from the terror of OUTRAGES such as this: most of us are not going to be bothered in the least by any of this crap. The only problem we might conceivably have with it is a slight sheepish envy because of the essential truth in something he said: when you’re a star, they let you do it. He’s right, and every man Jack of us knows it. And we wish we were stars, so we could do it too.
No, the main problem we’re going to have, which is the same problem we’ve had all along that has led to the rise of Trump in the first place, is the willing cuckservative embrace of the terms of Leftist Feminaziism to comfort themselves as they splash about in their little puddle of sore-loser tears. You can wade through all of that you may like by clicking over to the Corner; they’re about hip deep and rising in it over there. “Shocking!” “Disgusting!” “Disrespect!” And the all-time prizewinner, “OBJECTIFICATION OF WOMEN!!!” The Left calls the tune, and these perennial-loser golem are so well-trained at this point they leap right up and start dancing to it. It’s now little more than reflex, and it’s truly pitiful to see.
Yeah, it might be indicative of some of our “baser impulses,” sure. It’s also very, very human. And it ain’t quite on a level with sending four good Americans out to be killed by savages, refusing to offer them support, and then lying about it. Not quite.
Here’s another news flash these Little Lord Fauntleroys seem to have missed: women do the exact same thing. How many of you have been told—by your wives, your girlfriends, your female friends, whoever—that “hoo boy, if you could hear how women talk among themselves, it would curl your hair!” If I’ve heard that once, I’ve heard it a thousand times. What the hell did you think it was in your girlfriend’s diary that ancient and established wisdom told you a bazillion times you should never, ever read, anyway? Women too, it seems, enjoy a bit of raunchy conversation now and then among their pals about cock, dick, prick, et al. Seven inches of steaming hot conga. About getting fucked good and hard and long by a willing, eager partner with stamina and energy. About getting stuffed, taking it all, anything you can imagine. I don’t have to tell you they really, really do this. It’s another one of those things we all already know.
But hey, a youthful exuberance for hot, dirty sex is Just Not Presidential, right? This surely renders Trump once and for all Unfit For Office, doesn’t it?
Well, only if you think JFK never once had a conversation like that. Hell, even that nebbish old prune Jimmy Carter did an interview with Playboy, I think it was, wherein he confessed to feeling “lust in his heart.” Leave it to Carter to suck all the fun right out of even good old locker-room dialogue*, leaving a dried out, juiceless, lifeless husk flapping in the breeze raised by his priggish, warmed-over sanctimony in its place. Doesn’t matter though; most of us ordinary folks know what he really meant.
Even George Washington probably indulged in the 18th-century equivalent himself. The man was a soldier, and spent a lot of his time hanging out with soldiers. And soldiers are soldiers, then or now; men who live in barracks don’t grow into plaster saints, you know. If you think they didn’t thoroughly enjoy speculating among themselves, in the most direct and descriptive terms, on what might be under all those petticoats and what they might like to do with it if they got the chance, you’re dreaming. As sainted cavalryman Jeb Stuart once said: a soldier who won’t fuck, won’t fight. Yes, he put it in exactly those terms, too.
Sorry, fellas, but this one ain’t gonna fly either, with anybody who has an ounce of joie de vivre left in ’em. Back to the drawing board again, and better luck next time.
Update! Further thoughts: the one thing, just about the only thing, that happens every time the establishment Ruling Class and its trained poodles in the media attempts another of these gotchas of theirs is something they can’t seem to get their heads around: it is demonstrated that Trump, for all his wealth, has far more in common with us than he does with them, and most especially, than WE do with them.
Think of it: Trump talks about women and sex in kinda vulgar terms. So do we. Trump thinks we ought to have a national border, and it ought to be properly policed. So do we. Trump thinks unfettered importation of Moslems is not only a bad idea, but a dangerous one that puts Americans at unnecessary risk, to no good purpose at all. So do we. Trump thinks that American interests ought to be the primary concern of anyone who wishes to represent us in government. So do we. Trump thinks we ought to have a strong military, and that it ought to be used judiciously but overwhelmingly when it proves necessary. So do we.
And the Establishmentarians—our Professional Politician class and the media picaroons who have attached themselves to them, remora-like and entirely unaccountable to anyone but their own kind—disagree with every one of these propositions. In fact, they not only disagree, they’re openly contemptuous of those who harbor these beliefs.
It’s to be expected from those on the Left, for whom jejune contempt of American values has always been the main motivation. But it’s disappointing, to say the very least, when we get it from people we had previously thought of as “conservative.” We see these notions as simple common sense; our ersatz allies see them as unacceptable exemplifications of our troglodytic nature…just like the fucking liberals do.
This, too, is a highly useful service Trump has done us, this revelation of the enmity and disdain these wretched betrayers harbor for us. I’d go so far as to say that if he hadn’t come along on his own it just might have been necessary to invent him, so to speak, for that purpose if for no other. It all makes Codevilla’s postulation of the divide being not between Left and Right, Democrat and Republican, liberal and conservative, but between Ruling Class and Country Class seem all the more prescient.
*It should be noted that, since Trump and Bush were apparently on an Access Hollywood bus arriving for a cameo on some soap opera or other, they were in what amounts to what show-biz folks call a “green room.” Which is another way of saying—you guessed it—a locker room. So now the PC police, whose team ersatz “conservatives” have so excitedly rushed to join, are now quite literally policing locker room conversations more than a decade old for unacceptable, offensive comments.
So when will Goldberg and the rest of these pissypants princesses start scolding us all about “microagressions,” “safe spaces,” and the like, I wonder?