Maybe he just knows protection rackets better than the Secret Service, so to speak.

Finally, the overworked Secret Service catches a break! After running out of money to protect the large and frequently-traveling Trump family, the Secret Service had been pawning agents' snazzy watches and Ray-Bans for operating funds. But now Donald Trump Jr. will be forgoing Secret Service protection, according to "a senior administration official" who leaked the story to the New York Times. And we're completely convinced by the reason given for the decision:

The agency ceased protecting Mr. Trump, who lives in New York City and is an executive at the Trump Organization, last week. Mr. Trump, an avid camper and hunter, was said to be seeking more privacy than he can expect with a contingent of agents accompanying him everywhere.

That makes all sorts of sense, and doesn't at all sound like the most obviously fake excuse for not wanting any government-employed witnesses following him around, no it doesn't. Speculation on the Twitter machine is about evenly divided between "Obviously he doesn't want them seeing him meeting with Russians" and "He's getting ready to flee the country," with a small percentage of folks suggesting he's being maneuvered into a false-flag assassination attempt that will fail and lead to a declaration of martial law by the Trump administration, but really, that was what Obama was going to do, and a Trump would never use an Obama plan.

It's unclear whether Don Jr. has also asked for the protection services to end for his family, which would strike us as kind of a dick move, Fredo.

We also learn that Secret Service protection will be withdrawn from Kellyanne Conway, but that "the two cases are unrelated," so you just get your minds out of the gutter, you. Totally different things, too, since by law, presidential family members get Secret Service protection unless they specifically ask to have that protection withdrawn, while in Conway's case,

The president approved her protection after Ms. Conway received several threats in the administration’s early days. That threat assessment has since changed, the official briefed on the decision said.

They are definitely not banging, OK? There are no alternative fucks here. Besides, if she had any say in the matter, Conway would surely insist she needs a security detail, because she's still big; it was the interviewers who got smaller.

Needless to say, Secret Service spokesperson Catherine Milhoan wouldn't comment on any of this, citing the need for keeping who they service secret:

“To ensure the safety and security of our protectees and their families, we will not confirm who is currently receiving Secret Service protection,” Ms. Milhoan said.

The AV Club adds this important observation:

Also, it’s unclear if Jr. is replacing his Secret Service detail with some Trump-backed goons he knows he can trust, but we’ll definitely know that’s the case if he’s surrounded by solid gold Stormtroopers at his next public event.

Oh, that's not it, former Onion adjunct, that is not it at all: Our money is on Don Jr. being protected by a team led by longtime scary bald Trumpgoon Keith Schiller, who left his nebulously defined White House job earlier this month because chief of staff John Kelly was being mean to him and he felt neglected. Now he can be a dogsbodyguard for another, albeit lesser, Trump, and his life will have meaning again.

Still, the AV Club was right about the Star Wars theme; Yr Wonkette has gotten an advance preview of what Don Jr. wants Schiller to wear on the job:

Mr. Schiller is reportedly fine with being called "Lobot." Happy travels, Don Jr.!

[NYT / AV Club]

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Doktor Zoom

Doktor Zoom's real name is Marty Kelley, and he lives in the wilds of Boise, Idaho. He is not a medical doctor, but does have a real PhD in Rhetoric. You should definitely donate some money to this little mommyblog where he has finally found acceptance and cat pictures. He is on maternity leave until 2033. Here is his Twitter, also. His quest to avoid prolixity is not going so great.

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Guys, it's been one more shit day in a shit week in the fifth shit month of another shit Trump year. Which is why I need to remind you that it's not ALL shit out there! Oh, sure, it's MOSTLY shit, but you know what isn't shit? YR WONKETTE, and the strange community of strange internet people who have made getting through all this shit a bit more tolerable, that's who and what. Which is why you should give us money, so we can keep whanging away at the walls of shit with our shovels and laughing at the shit getting all over, because one of these days we will get it all cleaned up or at least not be up to our waists in shit, and we can all laugh about what a crazy fight it was, as St. Molly Ivins always kept reminding us.

In case you're new here, let me just remind you that Wonkette literally got me, Yr Dok Zoom, out of what wasn't quite poverty, but was pretty much paycheck-to-paycheck desperation. I started reading the site shortly before Barack Obama was elected, began commenting sometime in his first term, and submitted a story tip to Rebecca a few months after she bought the site for 47 dollars and a sandwich (I now understand it was a bit more than that). It was Memorial Day 2012, and she wrote back she was busy with some "stupid thing I have to do for some muneez," but would I like to try writing a blog post myself? "I understand if you say FUCK NO. But maybe you are thinking FUCK YES?" And then she warned me she paid only in Ameros. I did, the post was forgettable but OK, and then I wrote a thing (borrowed from now long-lost comments) that went semi-viral, and suddenly I was that hottest thing in publishing, a freelancer!

In less than a year, Rebecca asked you all to buy me to be your very own pet blogger, and my life suddenly became incredibly good, like as good as an Abba song. It's as good as "Dancing Queen." Thanks to the timing of the whole thing (and to Barry Obama and Nancy Pelosi), I actually had health insurance for the first time in years, a not inconsiderable thing. And you had an Editrix who was not working 12 hour days six and a half days a week and drinking too much from stress. Your continued donations helped hire Evan full time and Robyn and Bianca part time and a whole raft of freelancers, and now Rebecca is down to eight-hour days, five and a half days a week, and drinking because there's a madman in the White House and everything's terrible.

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There is a very normal article circulating on the internet right now by a fella named Don Boys (that's not the joke, the jokes are coming), who is both an insane batshit preacher, and also an insane batshit former member of the Indiana House of Representatives. (Also sometimes he blogs at the Daily Caller about how Mike Pence really went balls deep into the gay agenda when he swore in that insane batshit gay guy Rick Grenell as America's ambassador to Germany.)

This article, of course, is about Pete Buttigieg, because what are anti-gay buffoons obsessed with right now? Pete Buttigieg. Boys (still his name) is primarily concerned not with the simple fact that Buttigieg is gay, but with how gay Buttigieg really is. IN THE SEX WAY!

Well, Don, since you asked!

Shall we dive into this thing without the proper prophylactics? We shall.

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