For the first time, a courageous Tamarin monkey named Drash speaks about his experience living inside Donald Trump’s hair during the 2016 campaign for president. Almost no one knew he was there:
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 his hair look fuller and the candidate look younger at a time when the critical 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 campaign events, 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 Trump Tower.
That is not true. We were always together, Mr. Donald Trump and I. In fact, we had developed such a deep bond, I believe that I was his most trusted confidante during the most difficult days of his historic presidential run.
We were essentially inseparable. I was blanketed so closely to his scalp — for all intents and purposes, attached to his head — that I often felt I could ‘hear’ his thoughts. And he would frequently ask me for advice on matters of national policy and military strategy, such was the confidence he had in my judgement.
Yes, he was listening to a monkey, and I think the results speak for themselves.
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!
Even the decision to befriend Mr. Vladimir Putin, the Russian genius with the great body, and to let him influence the U.S. election, was a scheme that Mr. Donald Trump and I devised on our own. Wow, what a success!
Yes, Mr. Donald Trump and I grew so close 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 talked her out of it with the promise of an expensive foreign sports car. And cuddles. Mr. Donald Trump really knows how to handle women.
Unfortunately, I was let go in October of 2016, 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 on top of Mr. Donald Trump’s head.
I am okay though, thanks for asking. The Trump administration was able to find me work in Las Vegas with the comedian, Carrot Top. It’s not the same as living in Washington with one of America’s greatest statesmen, philanthropists, and incisive political thinkers, but I am just happy to have a job right now, what with employment being down over 48% because of the mistakes of Mr. Barack Obama! 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 as he is being vilified in the press and scrutinized by Mr. Robert Mueller.
For one, I know how much he adores animals. 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.
Secondly, he was very kind to me. I was treated with the most luxurious hair care products, I was brushed gently 18 times a day, and when we slept, I sprawled out on sumptuous satin sheets. I lived the most lavish lifestyle any Tamarin monkey could ever dream of safely nestled in the thin but prestigious locks of Donald Trump.
He’s definitely 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.