From the personal diary of DONALD J. TRUMP
Diary, you want to know why I’m so cranky? Because I can’t get laid!
I mean, ever since I was sworn in, it’s like living in Celibacy City. I can’t just bring a hot girl back with me that I picked up at some bar or party. Every move I make, a thousand people know it. I’m surrounded all the time by Secret Service, staff, the lying media. I heard JFK smuggled girls into the White House. How the hell did he do it?
I was always able to have all the women I wanted, Dear Diary. When I was younger I was pretty good-looking, plus I was rich. In New York, that’s the winning ticket! As I got older, I have to admit I got less attractive, but money made up the difference: I was Donald Fucking Trump, the King of Manhattan, the star of Page Six, the biggest celebrity in town! The babes lined up and, like I told that Access Hollywood moron, I could do anything I wanted. Sure, I needed a wife to breed my children, run my houses and be my official hostess. But all my wives, including Melania, understood that being Mrs. Trump came at a cost. They had to look the other way.
I didn’t think I’d be elected, so I never made contingency plans for getting laid once I was President. Early on—around the end of February, 2017, when I hadn’t had sex for more than a month—I was talking to the head of my Secret Service detail, and I asked him how the Service had gotten girls to Kennedy. He smiled and said, “Mr. President, back then, it was easy. The press didn’t know or care. It was ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.’”
“And now?” I asked.
“Times have changed, Mr. President. We would never be a party to that sort of thing. The press would find out. Heads would roll. Careers would be ruined.” We sat there for a little while in silence. I guess he knew what I was looking for, and, in his own way, he was giving me the answer.
Believe it or not, Dear Diary, I haven’t had a girl in the White House, Mar-a-Lago, Trump Tower or Bedminster since I became President. Even when I’m traveling, it’s almost impossible, although I’ve managed to do it once or twice. When I was in Jerusalem, last May, Bibi set me up with this really hot chick. He said she was Mossad. But other than that, zilch! Me, the world’s most powerful guy, and I can’t get laid.
And it’s driving me crazy. You know how they’re saying I levied those tariffs because I was pissed off by all the bad news? Only partially true. I did it because I was horny and in a bad mood! I mean, I can watch all the porn I want—that Tumblr website is hot. But I’ve never been a “rosy palm” man. I need the real thing! The smell of a woman’s body. The heat of her skin. The taste of her lips. Her fingers squeezing my ass. That’s the real deal, not doing myself!
And Melania won’t come near me—the last time we had sex was years ago. How’s a red-blooded, normal man supposed to go through life without sex? I’d ask my predecessors, Clinton, Obama and George W., if they ever fooled around, but they won’t talk to me, won’t even return my phone calls. I can’t really blame ‘em, after all my smack talk. Then again, George W. and Obama are such goody two-shoes, I doubt if they ever had sex with anyone except their wives. Now Bill, that’s a different story! But, like I said, he won’t talk to me.
It’s tough, Dear Diary. Like, I was down at Mar-a-Lago last week, at that fundraiser, and there was this gal, a lobbyist, who was with her date, a wealthy guy from Miami. I was working the receiving line and when she popped up, my eyes practically fell out of my skull. I mean, she was such a babe. Tall, great rack, long blonde hair, killer lips, about 32, really pretty, just the way I like ‘em. (Actually, she reminded me of Stormy Daniels.) And the way she was looking at me, I knew she was down for a thing. Now, if this had been two years ago, I guarantee you we woulda been in the sack, or at least in the bathroom, for a quickie. But now that I’m POTUS, it’s not gonna happen. Nobody told me it would be like this, Diary, and I sometimes wonder, if I’d known, would I have run anyway?
Well, I’m the most famous man in the world, and after this Korea breakthrough, I wouldn’t be surprised to win the Nobel Peace Prize, which I deserve a lot more than Kenya Obama! Guess I’ll just have to wait to resume my old lifestyle. But when I’m free from this joint, look out! I will make up for lost time.
