Where is the damn arrest. Show to me the arrest.
In a Saturday post on his deranged fake Twitter for chuds, Donald Trump said he expected to be arrested today. Specifically he said the "leading Republican candidate and former president of the United States will be arrested on Tuesday of next week," which one can only assume means him, since no other former presidents are thought to be campaigning for president as Republicans at this time. This arrest, if it happens, would be in relation to what's commonly known as the "Stormy Daniels, uh, affair or -gate or whatever," Manhattan district attorney Alvin Bragg's investigation into hush-money payments Trump allegedly made to a porn actress to cover up an extramarital sexual relationship the two had. Pardon me for a moment, just gonna pour some laundry bleach up my nose.
Generally speaking, and also speaking specifically about literally every statement he has ever made in his life, you can assume Trump is either making stuff up or only accidentally telling the truth. It could have been a stunt, or it could have been a paranoid freak-out from a senile cable-news addict who takes too many drugs; in any event, it launched an entire exhausting Blog Cycle over the absurd question of whether getting arrested might actually be a genius political masterstroke by Earth's dumbest pile of shit.
But then there were some weird reports, over the weekend and into yesterday, of vaguely portentous stuff happening in New York: barricades going up around a Manhattan courthouse; the NYPD calling for extra uniformed patrols. These plausibly could be precautionary responses to the nation's premier riot-inciter saying some insane shit online and all but explicitly telling his followers to do violence; they could also, though maybe less plausibly, be preparations for an event as fraught and loony-inflaming as any Trump arrest or arraignment undoubtedly would be. Even as a mind-poisoned skeptic incapable of believing any meaningful consequence will ever accrue to Trump or any of his ilk, I couldn't help but wonder: Is this friggin' guy actually going to get arrested on Tuesday?
It is 11:28 a.m. EDT on Tuesday right now, as I write this. As far as I know, Donald Trump has not been perp-walked out of Mar-a-Lago. Nor has he turned himself in to be booked and fingerprinted. Nor has he been arraigned in Manhattan. (Nor, thankfully, have there been any January 6-type riots in his, uh, honor or whatever.) The day is getting away from us, and I am getting frickin' steamed over here.
Today now feels very much like the NBA's trade-deadline day: We were promised exciting arrest action, dammit, and the clock is ticking. Where is Shams? Where is Woj? Where are the updates? Is this friggin' guy getting arrested or what?
Bring forth the arrest! Place the arrest before me, so that I may behold it! Alternatively, reschedule the arrest for a future date, so that I can plan accordingly. These are not unreasonable demands.
