Melania Trump Acts Like She Expected Her Old, Rich and Unhealthy Husband to Be Dead by Now

Illustration for article titled Melania Trump Acts Like She Expected Her Old, Rich and Unhealthy Husband to Be Dead by Now
Photo: Alex Wong (Getty Images)

Of course, I’m not suggesting that Melania Trump wants her husband, Donald Trump, the president of the United States of America, dead. I’d never say such a thing! Nor would I say that she is waiting for that to happen with the general countenance of a person who just worked a 12-hour shift and gets off at 5 p.m. staring at the clock at 4:57. Nor would I say that the moment he passes, Melania is going to hold a press conference, and the only words she’ll say at said conference will be, “I’M RICH, BIATCH.” Nor would I say that “Melania” is Swahili for “When he turns to ash, pay me my money ... in cash.”


But while watching them interact with all of the love and affection of a splash of bleach spilled on a black shirt, she sure as hell acts like all of these things that I would never, ever, ever, ever actually say are true. It has been said repeatedly that her body language and general demeanor are like those of a hostage. I have never seen any hostages except on TV, so I do not know if that is true. But I have seen people with hemorrhoids. And the faces she makes are the same as “I am a person with hemorrhoids” faces—only her hemorrhoid is 6 feet 3 inches tall and (allegedly) 239 pounds.

It is also increasingly common for people to see this pained woman standing next to the vat of Cheez Whiz she’s married to and perhaps express a sympathy for her. If this compulsion exists within you, I implore you to stamp it out.


She is, from what we know of her and her politics, a trash person who supported her husband’s transparently racist Birther claims. She also, if you remember, straight jacked Michelle Obama’s words. That she made a deal with a tiny-handed devil who eats Big Macs seven times a day and still somehow draws breath is unfortunate—for her. But that’s it.

Admittedly, trash is more sympathetic than the devil. For instance, I currently have trash in my house, and I’m still able to function normally. But if the devil were in my house, I’d leave. Perhaps this is also a metaphor. But right now I’m speaking literally!

Damon Young is the editor-in-chief of VSB, a contributing opinion writer for The New York Times, and the author of What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker (Ecco/HarperCollins)

Share This Story

Get our newsletter



That fat fuck is not 6'3".