Aug. 28 marks the 11th anniversary of Donald Trump blocking me on Twitter.
This means he's been violating my First Amendment rights for most of the last decade, minus the glorious four-year respite that was the Biden-Harris administration.
It also means he’s a giant coward who’s been afraid of some 5-foot-nothing lady on Twitter for 11 full years. How can anyone look at him and see anything but a giant failure of a convicted felon adjudicated rapist Epstein Bestie who spackles himself with orange clown makeup while wearing a wig, shoe lifts, and…something back there that looks like a portable port-a-potty.
Yes, we can dunk on the junk in that trunk, because it stinks in more ways than the obvious ones.
Do you even remember what our political landscape was like in 2015? Do you recall the day he descended that gold escalator to declare his candidacy? That was the day he began implementing the plan his Daddy Vladdy had patiently been grooming him to carry out.
Trump was the 12th Republican to enter the race, and his competitors all made fun of him. The press treated him like an entertaining joke…until he kicked one of them out of a press conference. Yes, in 2015. You forgot, didn’t you?
He ejected Univision anchor Jorge Ramos from a press conference in Dubuque, Iowa, on Aug. 25, 2015, for simply doing his job.
This is really when it all should’ve ended for him. The other members of the press should’ve walked out with Jorge Ramos and refused to cover Trump after that.
But they didn’t. They were so astonished at his “brash and brazen” approach to politics, something they’d never really seen before. So they kept enabling him.
It’s INFURIATING.
Did you also forget how his competitors spoke about him during the campaign, before the Russians hacked the RNC server and compromised them all to filth?
How quaint it all seems now to hear anyone talk about Jeb Bush as the one to beat. Even Karl Rove was saying Trump couldn’t win a general election.
Most damning of all, they all knew what Trump was, and then they let him compromise them anyway.
Thing is, I’ve also always known who Trump really was, because I grew up in New Jersey in the '70s and '80s. I first learned about him via my father, who called him a “slumlord” whenever he saw him in the newspaper. “Uch, he just makes my skin crawl,” my mother would sneer whenever she saw him on TV.
From the moment Trump descended that tacky gold escalator, I plagued him with replies that I knew would work on him. I was Gavin Newsom-ing him when Newsom was still Mayor of San Francisco. I used Trump’s own words and tactics against him, insulting him the way he insulted women while busting every lie he tweeted.
Looking back at my old tweets leading up to my block reminded me that I really started going hard after he went after Megyn Kelly, who was a moderator for a GOP debate where Trump didn’t like the questions. He lost that debate badly and blamed it on her, saying she was so angry that she was “bleeding from her eyes…bleeding from her wherever.” The 2015 version of Megyn Kelly got supported by women from all walks of life and shamed Trump for shaming our cycles.
Plus, I said stuff that other people said later. Like when Rob Reiner said this MONTHS after I tweeted it.
And then came the day when I finally broke him. Aug. 28, 2015.
It wasn’t illegal for candidate Trump to block me, so I just milked it. Plenty of us earned that badge of honor back then, but once he was installed in our White House in 2017, he ordered his own DOJ to unblock anyone he’d blocked anywhere on social media.
Which he did, definitely begrudgingly. But he didn’t unblock everyone, because he’s a giant petty babyman. I love to imagine him being presented with the list as he sat behind his empty Resolute Desk in an Oval Office that didn’t look like Hobby Lobby’s entire inventory of gold spray paint has exploded everywhere. He scans the list, phone in hand, and grumbles as he unblocks accounts. And then he gets to my name and says, “OH NO NOT THAT ONE!”
And I remain blocked to this day. But I also have the highest of Twitter Achievements: the Trump Quadfecta. I’m currently working on Melania now that I’ve heard she’s been blocking other liberal accounts, and Tiffany still hasn’t blocked me, not even after I’ve (repeatedly) tweeted that “Tiffany Trump is what happens when Ric Grenell is your only gay friend.”
Ric Grenell didn’t like it, though.
Without the full compliance of the Republican Party, we would be enjoying a nice Democratic administration right now. Instead, we’ve been watching Trump compromise the entire GOP to the point every day for over a decade. We’re now witnessing their willing participation in the Epstein Files cover-up while they’re openly trying to steal the midterms. None of them (minus the outgoing Thomas Massie) have said a word about the Epstein Files. None of them (including Massie) have said a thing about Trump finally paying E. Jean Carroll the $5.8 million he owed her. The press remains terrified to take him on. All of it infuriates me.
I’ll never get the chance to interview him to ask him all of the WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS questions. Instead, I live with the knowledge that all it takes is some truth and a little tenacity to trigger the worst person this country has ever produced.
Coincidentally, the traditional 11th anniversary gift is steel. You know, if you wanted to get me a little something to commemorate the day.
