Trump HEREBY ORDERS You All To Stop Talking About Bedbugs At Doral!
It's Bedbug Week on Twitter. Which is funnier than Rat Week, but less riveting than Shark Week. But don't worry, kids, it's still Infrastructure Week, 'cause that shit is forever.
After several days of demented ranting in France for the G7 meeting, Trump invited the whole gang back to his place next year for another fun week of pretending no one smells that baby made a big stinky. What a coincidence that an entirely unbiased team of Trump staffers would evaluate all the possible venues and select Trump's own Doral club in Miami to host next year's G7 gathering! Just goes to show you what a hater that Obama guy was for never choosing a Trump property to host any previous government event.
Sure, revenues at Doral are down 65 percent since 2015, and members who quit are facing a delay of 80 years to get their deposits back as new members replace them (or don't). But Donald Trump isn't trying to goose the bottom line at his underperforming asset, perish the thought! He's doing it for you ungrateful wretches. Just like New York Times columnist Bret Stephens, who is here to liberate those snowflake college students from their safe spaces with his Big Daddy tough love and climate change fairy tales. Just don't call him a bedbug, or he'll invite you over to his house and try to suck your blood! (Just kidding, and all my ancestors are making phlegmy, Yiddish insults at anyone who thinks that joke is anti-semitic.)
And just like Bret Stephens, Donald Trump is extremely good at making an embarrassing story go away. All he does is jab his thumb stumps into his Obamaphone and call it "Fake News," and everyone stops talking about it immediately. It's like magic!
No bedbugs at Doral. The Radical Left Democrats, upon hearing that the perfectly located (for the next G-7) Doral N… https://t.co/pXEWQZIkpb— Donald J. Trump (@Donald J. Trump)1566916842.0
Yep, that story about bloodsucking parasites at the Trump Doral resort is deader than a bedbug after you empty a can of Lysol in a bedroom. It's just like if you Google "Barbra Streisand + house + photos" -- you get zero hits. Nobody at all is talking about the 2016 lawsuit filed by New Jersey insurance executive Eric Linder alleging that he woke up with dozens of bedbug bites after spending the night in the Jack Nicklaus villa at Trump Doral.
Here's the copy of the original bedbugs complaint filed by Eric Linder in 2016 against Trump's Doral resort. The re… https://t.co/OO7jNFME3E— Alex Mallin (@Alex Mallin)1566918165.0
The Miami Herald reports that Doral staff blamed Mr. Linder for getting eaten alive, because what else do you expect when you you book a stay at the Voracious Bloodsucking Parasite Resort. Okay, not really. What they really said was that Mr. Linder "conducted himself so carelessly and negligently that his conduct was the sole proximate cause or contributing cause." Because he ... bit his own neck, we guess?
Anyway, that's why Twitter is in no wise a nasty parade right now of photos of poor Mr. Linder's neck covered in bedbug welts after a night at the president's hotel.
Reminder of this '17 report as Trump tweets about bedbugs: "Court records show [Trump's] attorneys in Miami have re… https://t.co/dTHVOl4zGN— Kyle Griffin (@Kyle Griffin)1566918011.0
Wonder which G7 leader will be lucky enough to score the Nicklaus villa? Probably the Macrons, right? The Trudeaus, in a desperate attempt to get Melania to stop looking at Justin like that? Because you know this whole kerfuffle will blow over now that Donald Trump has HEREBY ORDERED everyone to quit talking about it. Just like he made it go away when he reached a confidential settlement with Mr. Linder five minutes after the inauguration. It's like it never even happened!
So book your stay at the Trump Doral right away, because rooms are filling up fast. Just brush up on your entomology before you leave.
For every bedbug welt, you get a free snack from the minibar. Just contact the hotel concierge to redeem before checkout. ALLEGEDLY.
And now it is ALLEGEDLY also too your OPEN THREAD. Allegedly.
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Liz Dye lives in Baltimore with her wonderful husband and a houseful of teenagers. When she isn't being mad about a thing on the internet, she's hiding in plain sight in the carpool line. She's the one wearing yoga pants glaring at her phone.