Let’s Review: Peegate

Once upon a time I was, for many years, senior editor at Penthouse Magazine. Towards the end of my tenure there the owner, Bob Guccione, found himself -- as the direct result of decades of his foolish business decisions -- about to lose the magazine and all he had. Guccione had been a big winner in the game of life but he played the endgame poorly and was about to become a big loser. This was, as so many in his losing situation always think, not the result of his poor decisions but always because of outside forces and "enemies." With Bob there were always enemies. Everywhere.

As he felt his empire slipping away, as he saw his carefully crafted world evaporating around him, Guccione became willing to do anything. Towards the end this included commissioning, buying, laying out and publishing, long photo features of naked Penthouse Pets peeing on themselves and on others as a kind of kinky foreplay in a virtual fornication festival.

The Penthouse staff -- as no doubt many many readers -- were revolted by this turn of the screwings, but Guccione was convinced that he had some sort of insight into the secret sexual desires of Americans so he published these repulsive photo features over and over again. Result? He lost his magazines, his money, his house, and ended sunk deep into penury.

Having lived through that period of Penthouse insanity I thought I had finally seen the last of losers using urination to somehow, someway, claw their way back into the winner's circle.

Alas, just when I thought I was out, the perverted progressive losers among us pull me back in. It seems they are trying to make the world believe in Trump and "Peegate."

Really? This seems to be the way Peegate worked:

1) An international business man who has spent decades in the rough and tumble world of real estate development and skyscraper construction and may be presumed to have some sophistication when it comes to wheeling and dealing with governments of all sorts throughout the world travels to

2) Moscow. Not Moscow, Idaho, but Moscow in Russia. That would be Moscow the capital of one of the most paranoid and intrusive governments in the world (Both now and for the 19th and 20th centuries.). It is a society and a government with a long history of...

3) Secret police and the clandestine surveillance of its own citizens and visitors to the extent that the US was digging bugs out of the walls of its own embassy in Moscow for decades. When he gets to Moscow he stays at...

4) The Moscow Ritz-Carlton in the “Presidential Suite.” Since such accommodations are typically only taken by the filthy rich and/or representatives of foreign governments such as, say, presidents. And then this sophisticated and reasonably intelligent billionaire real estate developer...

5) Assumes that such a suite in such a capitol city of such a government has no surveillance equipment at all installed in its rooms, bathrooms, closets, and -- most importantly -- bedrooms. He then asks the hotel staff to show him...

6) The bed in which Barack Obama and his wife slept in when they were in this same “Presidential Suite.” Upon being show the bed our businessman then...

7) Contacts two high-dollar Russian hookers (who would never, ever, have anything to do with the KGB or other intelligence organs of Russia) and instructs them to.... Wait for it....

8) Urinate on said bed in order to give said businessman some odd sort of thrill and...

9) Said businessman remains utterly positive no agency of the Russian state is running cameras and microphones from every possible angle in the master bedroom in a “Presidential Suite” in a top hotel in the capitol of Russia and...

10) The two damp hookers will never, ever, reveal a word about their golden shower in the Ritz Carleton’s “Presidential Suite.”

While I know that millions of morons are nodding like the drinking bird over the glass in their deep and abiding belief in this overflowing crock, I still find it hard to believe that there are smart people out there that really are this stupid. But of course they are not that stupid, not the smart ones. Instead they know this is a crock and yet they find they must drink from it lest their #NeverTrump fantasy world dissolve.

Sad. Their repetitive manic desperation now has foam flecking their lips and jowls as they dive down deep, and not for the last time, into this fuming septic tank of their own political sewage. Without even a snorkel. If they ever get out of the tank they will need a long, long golden shower.

Posted by gerardvanderleun at January 11, 2017 5:53 PM