My old mucker Donald Trump’s return to the White House has predictably sent the woke brigade into hysteria. From posting demented videos and shaving their heads to banning Trump supporters from having sex with them, it’s been a masterclass in the sore loser mentality they profess to despise so much in him. The Guardian is suffering a particularly embarrassing outbreak of PTSD (post-Trump-success distress). The editor’s email offer of support therapy to traumatised staff made me laugh out loud, as did the paper joining the liberal exodus from Elon Musk’s X in an equally comical fit of pique. But to be fair to the kale-munching wastrels, it can’t be easy when the guy you’ve been calling a racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, Nazi-inspired Islamophobic bigot gets so many new votes from black, Latino, female, Jewish and Muslim voters, and celebrates by dancing on stage to Village People’s gay anthem ‘YMCA’.
I spoke to Trump on the phone four times in the final stretch of the race, including a week after he got shot, when he called after seeing me on Fox praising his courage under fire.
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