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pussy tape
Friday, October 7 2016
Gretchen went into the City for the night, leaving me to have a Friday all by myself. I had another busy day similar to yesterday in the remote workplace. My work kept me so thoroughly occupied that I missed out on the news of the latest Donald Trump scandal until the very end of the workday. The latest outrage came in the form of a hot mic episode from 2005. In it, Donald Trump can be heard telling a sycophantic show biz guy (Billy Bush, a cousin of the presidential Bushes) how his fame and celebrity allows him to kiss and grope women at will, who simply allow it to happen. By grope, I mean that Trump claimed he can "grab" them "by the pussy." The video also contains a fair amount of almost non-verbal hooting hollering about the hotness of passing women, suggesting that the part of Donald Trump that managed to mature beyond the toddler and 9-year-old stage never successfully made it past the 13 year-old milestone.
Initially I didn't think there was anything new or unexpected in this revelation, but before long it had kindled a political firestorm, with denunciations coming from many Republicans, particularly those involved in difficult re-election campaigns. Some were going so far as to renounced previous endorsements.
At some point, Gretchen called me from her older friend Wendy's apartment on the Upper East Side to ask, "Are you watching this?" She and Wendy were glued to CNN as the firestorm burned brighter and brighter. Midnight was approaching, and people were waiting on the rarest of things: a Donald Trump apology. The apology was apparently in the works and any minute it was expected to be transmitted from Trump Tower.
But when the apology came, it initially looked like a hostage video. And then it quickly pivoted to an attack on Bill Clinton, which undercut whatever apologetic content it contained. What a time to be alive!
[REDACTED] Late at night at around 2:00am as I tried to fall asleep, the dogs suddenly ran out into the darkness. They proceeded to bark and run around near the outbuildings of our uphill neighbors. After awhile I'd had enough of it and went out to try to retrieve them, but evidently at that point whatever they were chasing ran away to the south. It must've been some creature that can run fast (but not too fast) and cannot climb trees. A deer would've quickly outrun them, and a bear would've climbed a tree and they would've stopped at its base. I suspect the object of their interest this time was some sort of canid, perhaps a fox or possibly a coyote. In any case, they continued southward until I could no longer hear them. I got my smartphone to see where Neville was (as located by his Whistle GPS collar) and saw that he was some distance down the Stick Trail. I thought it might be good (and perhaps even fun) to go retrieve him, but as I headed southward on the trail, I saw the Neville map pin steadily adding distance between its position and mine. It was clearly pointless to continue, so before making it even a quarter mile, I turned around and went home.
Back at my main computer, I continued tracking Neville's location. I became alarmed as I saw his map pin getting fairly close to both lower Dug Hill Road and even Hurley Mountain Road. The terrain down there is incredibly rugged, so even if it looked like he was close to those roads, he was probably still several terraces above them. But I began to wonder if I should drive down there and pick him up. But then I saw the map pin coming back my way, traveling at a rate of only about 200 feet per minute. (This is an estimate based on the frequency of updates, which is roughly every three minutes, and the distance between the update positions, which was an average of about 600 feet.) I made a screen grab of the Whistle tracker map as he neared home. As always, Ramona arrived a good ten minutes before Neville did. It was about 3:30am when he finally got back. They made like they wanted to go on another adventure a couple times after that, but after I beseeched Ramona to please not, they settled down and went to sleep.
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