(AN IN PERSON-ACCOUNT OF THE DUNG SHOW)
You know— Sometimes it’s just hard to pass up a shit show— so, I skedaddled down to New York to enjoy their ten dollar hotdogs and see if I could determine what was living underneath Trump’s wig.
Don Cheeto is facing accusations of fraud from New York Attorney General Letitia James— and James alleges that Trump and his company misled banks and insurers by providing inflated statements of his net worth and asset values. Justice Arthur Engoron has already ruled that fraud was committed, but the current claims focus on conspiracy, insurance fraud and falsified records.
I’m not going to lie— the long-winded legal jargon was grueling— so it should come as no surprise that Eric Trump, (who was seated only two rows ahead of me), was caught a number of times nodding off quicker than a narcoleptic at a lullaby contest. I should also note that while Eric’s face was red, his body smelled of lavender.
Big Don, (whose hair looked like a duck’s cloaca) was rightly accused in my opinion of the fraudulent shenanigans which he’s on trial for, (based upon the mountains of documents I saw).
Trump Organization accountant Donna Kidder was first to the stand to testify on the company’s internal bookkeeping and financial statement preparation. At one point, they put up some spreadsheets on the monitors— side by side comparisons of management fees. The first one was 100k. The second one was $1MILLION and change. The problem was that each version of the documents with radically different price tags were for the same list of services. In other words, it appeared that Trump had inflated the cost by about $900,000. Kidder was then asked why the insane discrepancy. She effectively said Allen Weisselberg made her do it.
Most of the Secret Service guys look bored- all except for the bald Al Capone looking guy chewing gum, who had the look of a happy squirrel as he dreamed of doing roundhouse kicks.
They touched upon Ivanka’s reimbursements. Objections were made. At times there was screaming about Deutschebank’s valuations— But what really got my attention was a second Secret Service guy who chewing gum. This one was slow and deliberate— so I knew that if things got hairy, he was the one to be worried about.
At another point, Trump’s attorney began objecting and whining, “what does this have to do with anything?” He looked like a coat hanger sitting next to Trump slumped in his seat with his back-fat staring aggressively at me. Frankly— I was frequently distracted by Donnie’s meaty backside jiggling and wiggling every time he huffed and puffed– and at times, I wanted to object.
Real estate appraiser Doug Larson, (who had the head of Mr. Potato Head), took to the stand next. As Larson pontificated on the trials and tribulations of appraising real estate, I stepped out of the courtroom a minute before the scheduled break hoping to join the photographers for the press gaggle. I was immediately whisked away by security into a minor rat-maze of riot-cages and told to wait outside the metal detectors. So, I was unable to see Trump’s press gaggle— which took place moments later, though, I could hear it from around the corner. Same old bullshit.
When we got back in the court room, Eric Trump was licking his teeth and touching his face like he had been jamming something up his nose in the bathroom. Trump’s back-fat was still eyeing me aggressively as this Larson guy bored everyone with his appraisal talk. I then noticed that there were multiple journalists using binoculars to look at the fine print on these Trump spread sheets. It made me feel under-dressed.
JAMES’ ATTORNEY: Mr Larson, did you know that Mr. McConney was using you for valuations on the Niketown property?”
LARSON: “No.”
Whoopsie-Daisy. Fraudsters-lazy
James’ attorney started showing Larson spreadsheets regarding Trump Tower.
Larson was like, “nah-ah. I didn’t write those valuations.”
JAMES’ ATTORNEY: “You already testified that you wouldn’t give this advice in 2013– did you give this advice in 2016?”
Larson was partially inaudible, but it’s clear by demeanor the answer was “no.” The Judge reminded him to lean into the microphone.
They then moved onto 2017 with more of the same bullshit. James’ attorney kept hammering the question, “as a professional appraiser, would you use a 2013 appraisal for a 2017 property?” Larson initially said yes— then asked to have the question repeated. Larson then switched to “no.”
There were apparently a lot of valuations that Big Donnie claimed that Doug Larson made that Doug said was a big fat lie.
By the end, little Eric was visibly low on cocaine, or whatever other stimulants he uses to stay awake and began slumping his head to the left like brain-matter was oozing out his ear. For at least ten questions in a row, Doug Larson claimed that the Trump Organization falsely used Larson’s name for valuations and they were all a bunch of fucking liars. Trump had valued 40 Wall Street as $735,400,00 and Larson once again asserted that the Trumps were a bunch of liars.
The trial largely concerns damages, with James seeking at least $250 million in fines plus a permanent ban on Trump and his sons Donald Jr. and Eric running New York businesses. She also wants a five-year ban on Trump’s involvement in New York commercial real estate.
President Blumpkin has denied all allegations, asserting his assets were worth more than claimed. However— what I couldn’t help but notice was that when Eric was awake, his forehead was pointier than an angry cactus— so that is also something to take into consideration.
Rod Webber 