How Russia (probably) controls Trump: Part 1



Earlier this year, we learned that Russia may or may not have a file on Donald Trump’s love of golden showers (let’s be real: this file exists and it’s probably covered in stains.) Recently, it came to light that both Attorney General Jeff Sessions and former National Security Prick Mike Flynn spoke to Russian ambassadors during the 2016 campaign. And 46 Justice Department employees were asked to resign as an investigation looms.

Is all of this activity suspicious? You bet your ass it is. Will it change the minds of Trump fanatics and spineless Republicans? No fucking way. To all of you who still care about good versus evil, I’m here to tell you that this intrigue is just the tip of the iceberg. As new information emerges, I will be speculating about silly, (probably) very real plans the Kremlin implemented to make a puppet of our Dear Leader. In Part 1, I propose that…


Picture this: a room of solid gold, in the basement levels of Trump Tower. What sacred treasures occupy this gleaming vault? Porn. Lots and lots of porn, probably ’90s porn (scrunchies and acid-washed thongs), all of it on videotape.

Let’s imagine that Donald Trump began assembling this trove years and years ago, during his messy split from Ivana. Even after VHS became obsolete, he didn’t give it up. He gets horny when the screen gets wonky, the sound gets fuzzy, and he has to hold down the tracking button until the picture normalizes. Titillating!

And let’s further speculate that in the New Millennium, Trump scoured the back alleys of New York for underground “tape auctions,” usually wearing a disguise and going under a false name— a name like “Kenny Bravo.” The others bid high, but Kenny Bravo bid higher, risking bankruptcy for another rare VHS porno. Each tape took its place in Trump’s room of gold. That room became Trump’s Happy Place. He retreated to it when women could not offer the carnal pleasures he craved, when his children sought the fatherly love he could not give.

Trump loved his Sacred Porn Bank like a daughter. Or maybe more like a bride. Let’s compromise: he loved it like he loves Ivanka.


And what if Putin’s underlings found out who “Kenny Bravo” really was? What if they stole into Trump’s Sacred Porn Bank under cover of darkness, some night during Obama’s presidency? And what if they hid a VHS tape of their own in between Stop! Or My Mom Will Cum and Forrest Hump? Maybe a porno in which Vladimir Putin’s throbbing manhood hypnotized the viewer into committing wholeheartedly to his authoritarian vision of the world?

Maybe right after the money shot, when Big Bad Vlad squirted all over a polar bear pelt, he looked into the camera, still shuddering from his bleak, post-Soviet orgasm, and said, “You must just do what I say, comrade.” Then, maybe he blew the smoke off a hunting rifle and flashed a boyish smile. What likely followed was a lengthy monologue about the merits of a Putin-style government, and a proposal for a presidential campaign like no other: Trump’s 2016 campaign—aka the political equivalent of back alley VHS porn.

So, if Putin really did make a subliminal propaganda porno, would Trump fall for it? Our revolting tyrant would take the bait, no question. Bait. Hm. Master Bait? Sorry, I couldn’t resist. And neither could Trump.

But of course, that’s just an idea.

Keep checking our site for more speculation (and occasionally REAL news) about Russia’s subversion of American democracy. Anything goes in a Post-Truth world!

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