People in Southern California think that people on Northern California give a fuck about any stupid rivalry nonsense.
People in Northern California are just quietly waiting for The Big One to drop LA into the sea, washing away all that smarmy douchebaggery.
People in Northern California think there’s a rivalry with Southern California
People in Southern California don’t think about Northern California at all
Just saying…
Overdose is the #1 cause of death for Americans 18 to 44.
Not cancer. Not car crashes. Not guns.
We’re burying a generation and blaming the dead.
I hope everyone had a great 4th of July. I know @realDonaldTrump and family did.
250 years ago we declared independence from a king who ran the colonies as a family business. In just 18 months the Trumps have made King George look like an amateur.
A $620 million Pentagon loan, the largest in the program’s history, to a company Don Jr.’s firm bought into three months before.
An Air Force drone contract to a startup the princelings took public through a golf course company they own a piece of.
The Army’s largest drone motor order ever, to a company where Don Jr. sits on the board and holds millions in stock.
A $24 million Pentagon robotics contract to the company that employs Eric as Chief Strategy Advisor.
A stake in the largest undeveloped tungsten deposit on earth, in Kazakhstan, backed by $1.6 billion in US government support.
Jared’s fund seeded with $2 billion from the Saudi crown prince, now $6.2 billion, 99% of it foreign money from Gulf governments. Over $110 million in fees collected from the Saudis alone. He negotiates American foreign policy with the governments that pay him.
$2.3 billion from crypto ventures their father regulates. More than a million people bought in and lost $2.3 billion. The money didn’t grow. It simply moved from the subjects pockets to the crown’s coffers.
And the next one is already drafted. A proposed ATF rule that will allow guns to be shipped straight to your front door. The government’s own estimate is 3.3 million home gun deliveries a year. Don Jr. sits on the board of the online gun megastore built to cash in. He holds 300,000 shares.
And that’s only the fraction they’ve allowed us to see. Not one subpoena served. Not one search executed. Why hide anything when you own the investigators?
Me? They searched a laptop for six years. Federal prosecutors. Grand juries. Subpoena power. Congressional hearings. They found nothing. I made about $200k a year selling paintings when my Dad was President, and they made my paintings part of an impeachment inquiry.
For six years they’ve asked Where’s Hunter? What about the laptop?
Wrong questions. The right one is 250 years old. Does America belong to a family?
They’ve given their answer. Long live the King.
Over on Substack I’m writing about the last seven years of my life. It’s the first draft of the whole story. All of it.
Below is a short excerpt. I’ll be releasing chapters every few days, along with “Where’s Hunter?” a video series exclusive to Substack.
Check it out. Link is in the replies.
The Laptop
They called it the laptop. I will call it that too, although the name is not accurate, the provenance was never established, and no court or forensic examiner ever certified the chain of custody that would have made it evidence rather than theater. I will call it the laptop because by now the word belongs to something larger than a piece of hardware. It belongs to a story they needed me to confirm, and I am done letting them tell it.
Their origin story begins in a Delaware repair shop, but it does not end there, and it did not begin there either. By the time a legally blind computer repairman named handed a hard drive to Rudy Giuliani’s attorney, men had already been traveling to Kyiv and Vienna and Zurich for more than a year trying to assemble exactly this object. The laptop did not surface and create a scandal. A scandal was constructed, and a laptop was produced to anchor it.
So. The laptop.
Here is what was on it.
Twenty years of my life, or a version of it. Messages sent at hours that don't belong to anyone sober. Photographs I would never have taken in daylight. A record of every way a body can fail its owner when the owner has stopped trying to help. None of it is a single dramatic moment. It is accumulation, the slow daily work of an addict doing the thing that is killing him because the alternative feels like dying faster.
All of that was on it. I am not denying any of it.
That is not a small thing to say. I have spent years in rooms where men and women with far less scrutiny than I have faced tore themselves apart trying to account for what they did in the middle of their disease. The inventory of an addict’s life is never clean. It is not meant to be clean. Recovery does not erase the record. It requires reading it. I have read mine.
What I will not do is accept their lies.
Because a record of what is on it, or more precisely, what was not, exists.
(Read the whole story on Substack)
Addiction is never an excuse, but it can be an explanation. Seeking genuine forgiveness from those we have harmed is one of the hardest things to do in recovery. It’s one of the hardest things for any of us to do in life. I’ve found that, before you begin that journey, you have to first forgive yourself. I would love to hear about your experience, strength and hope today.