My Year Living Inside Mr. Trump’s Hair
For the first time, Drash, a Golden Lion Tamarin, talks about his intimate relationship with the most controversial presidential candidate in history.
Mr. Donald Trump hired me in the late summer of 2015 to cover a bald spot on the right rear quadrant of his magnificent head. It was a calculated decision by his campaign staff to make him look younger, his hair fuller, at a time when the all-important Republican debates were shifting into high gear.
It was an honor to be Mr. Donald Trump’s “simian secret” for a period of about 13 months. I was there through all the Republican debates, the launch of the general election race, during the grueling Cleveland convention and, finally, for the three feisty presidential debates with Mrs. Hillary Clinton.
Many times during this period my billionaire patron was at odds with his campaign team, even with his closest family advisors. The world thought then that he was alone, isolated, brooding reclusively in his ivory tower. That is not true. We were together, Mr. Donald Trump and I. In fact, we had developed such a strong, intimate relationship, I truly believe that I was his most trusted confidante during the most difficult days of his historic presidential run.
We were, as much as two autonomous, warm blooded creatures could be, inseparable. I was blanketed so closely to his scalp — for all intents and purposes, attached to his pate — that I often felt I could “hear” his thoughts. And he would frequently ask me for advice, such was the confidence he had in my judgement.
The Wall? My idea. Banning Muslims? A bold position Mr. Donald Trump and I came up with together. Bombing the feces out of our ISIS enemies? A strategy I learned living in the rain forests of Paraguay, pelting jaguars with cambuci fruit from 40 feet above the jungle floor. Pow!
Yes, Mr. Donald Trump and I grew very close. So close, in fact, that Mrs. Ivanka Trump Kushner became a bit jealous, threatening to import a squirrel monkey to hide her split ends. But, ultimately, the wise and sympathetic father knew how to pacify his daughter and the new Learjet 45XR did just the trick. Mr. Donald Trump really knows how to handle women.
Unfortunately, as so many of my Golden Lion Tamarin brothers and sisters in the endangered rain forests have learned, all good things must come to an end. I was let go in mid-October, just a couple of weeks after the Access Hollywood story broke. Mr. Paul Manafort felt that the controversial tour bus video could lead to a more careful scrutiny of the candidate and, ultimately, to my discovery.
I am okay though, thanks for asking. The Trump organization was able to find me work in Las Vegas with the comedian, Carrot Top. It’s not the same as living in New York City with one of your country’s greatest philanthropists and incisive political thinkers, but I am just happy to have a job right now, what with employment being down over 48%! Thank goodness Mr. Donald Trump is here to make America great again.
In closing, let me say that I, Drash, am not a political monkey, and I am not well versed on all the pressing issues facing America. But, today, I want to vigorously support and defend Mr. Donald Trump. For one, I know how much he adores animals. He was always caring toward me. And I can’t count the number of times he told me how much he likes cats. “I love pussies of all shapes and sizes,” he would say. Now that’s a man America can trust — a gentle man. With little, harmless hands. He can’t hurt you, I promise. He can only help you. Trust me.
Thanks to all the many readers, fans, followers, and even my frenemies, for reading and commenting on my posts throughout the year as I continue my commitment to post every day, 7-days-a-week until the Orange Accident is no more.
I read every comment. And I try to answer.