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Posted by on Oct 14, 2016 in 2016 Elections, At TMV | 2 comments

Reality, C’est Moi!

October 14, 2016

Note to readers: This is the latest entry in Baby DonDon’s campaign diary. The series imagines that “Mr.” Donald Trump has the emotional make-up of a five-year-old and confides his deepest thoughts—such as they are—to Andrew Feinberg, and to readers, every day. In his private moments, he always thinks of himself as Baby DonDon.

The crazy-biased and soon-to-be sued Atlantic says our movement has entered the “gruesome, death-rattle phase.” Wrong! Retract or die, you asswipes!

Another woman just came forward in the Washington Post-Apocalypse and now another on TV. Lies! I will ruin their lives. They will regret ever meeting me—even more than they do already! I can prove all the skeevy trollops are lying because for many years I have been wearing a state-of-the-art PussyCam. Originally, it was just for my own amusement but, hey, now it will provide exculpatory evidence. I lent all the tapes to 10-year-old Barron and when I get them back, you’ll see.

Baby DonDon is so freakin’ MAD! I am now in total gaslighting mode. I am telling my apostles that what they see is not what they see. What they hear is not what they hear. I alone can show my enraptured followers reality. Hey, I am a reality TV star! Who knows reality better than me? I AM reality. My words MAKE reality. I will save them from the international banking conspiracy. And you know who started that? Crooked Hillary and the people in the triple parentheses.

I am also so steamed about Charles Krauthammer’s column today. He accuses me of:
“habitual mendacity” (name one thing I’ve said that isn’t true. Okay. Name another. Well, name one more.); “pathological narcissism” (it’s not narcissism if you are the best and all women desire you and keep flashing those “Please grab my vajayjay” looks); “profound ignorance” (hey, I am smart. I went to Wharton. I was smart enough to lie about being first in my class. I could read a book if I wanted to, but I just don’t want to); and “an astonishing dearth of basic human empathy” (I care about Melania and Ivanka. If they were no longer 10s I’d feel so bad for them. I’d feel really bad if Melania became a 7 and triggered the heave-ho clause in our pre-nup.)

Andrew Feinberg is the author of Four Score and Seven (, a novel that imagines that Abe Lincoln comes back to life for two weeks during the 2016 campaign and encounters a candidate who, some say, resembles Donald Trump. He also writes a daily anti-Trump humor page at