Nebraska draws off NYC

Fact is, Donald J. Trump is from NYC.

We might think we’d have Donald J. Trump greeting Adair, fair Adair, corn-fed gold bright hair, as she gets off the bus, in Grand Central Station.

Shit, yeah.

Donald J. Trump, a talent scout, every bit as much as Jeffrey Epstein, a well known talent scout for Victoria’s Secret. We’ve felt DJT’s election of selections ddddeeeeligggghththtful fulfill us:

(1) Ivana;

(2) Marla;

(3) Melonia.

We’ve felt, willingly or unwillingly, DJT’s election of selections of his erections.

Trump Towers is only one.

Donald J. Trump knew about Grand Central Station, and planned accordingly.

Donald J. Trump bought Bonwit Teller.

If I was going to greet Adair, or Ghislaine, or Adair and Ghislaine…

… Or one of Mannahattas aboriginal, purring like an acoustic bass, or electric…

Me, DJT, to honor their arrival, in survival– buy the whole dang Bonwit Teller — a department store, with perfumes, a whole delightful section of Godiva chocolat, for a tower, resounding, where, Stephen Spielberg, plumes rooms. Up there in rooms, where “Oscars” bloom (Oscar Wilde– I fear.) Las Vegas– Bugsy Siegel– Havanna– Meyer Lansky…

Donald J. Trump– bras (a slinky bra, or black lace, maybe satin, not to be mistaken for brass– especially top brass, occasionally tampons, now and then a string bikini, brass, copper, iron, gold, rhodium, or uranium.

“Hey little baby? You need to bunk down for the night? DJT was underwater at that point, needing a boost, for his boasting– he was the son and scion of a quote unqoute premature “billionaire”. I got that. I dismantle the Bonwit Teller, for you. It is not ready, but if you bundle off into a corner, we’ll get it ready. You came for penetration– that’s what you’ll get!”