Rolling Stone

Roger Stone, trickster par excellence of the political world and longtime friend of Donald Trump, was arrested Friday in an early morning raid on his Florida home. A lot of people, including Stone, have been anticipating this day, I of course greeted it with ambivalence (don't judge me).

Stone is allegedly the architect of "the wall" strategy for Trump's campaign and he groomed Trump for the Presidency for over thirty years. Sounds about right. Stone is a master of media manipulation and a shadowy figure who refuses to be a shadow.

In spite of his tough guy image Stone will have to flip on Trump and the baby Trumps. Yes, Roger is shopping for a pardon with all of his interviews since Friday, but Donald Trump is loyal to no one. He threw his old buddy Roger in the river after his devoted service and didn't bring him into the Whitehouse with him. Do I really no what Stone will do? No but I have to spill some digital ink here.

The greatest motivation for Stone to cooperate with Mueller is the prospect of wearing that disgusting orange jumpsuit. They're itchy and ill fitting. Jail he could bare but not that. Stone's sartorial flare and elegance is surpassed only by his deviousness. Oh, don't you dare pretend that you don't envy his wardrobe. In a sea of drab, dark suited bad collared, horrid tie wearing public men, Roger Stone pops with pizzazz and a rare daring to be yourself, stand up and yell, men have a right to look good and take pride in their appearance. Are You telling me you prefer Trump's 24 same color suits and his three ties, one of which he wears 95% of the time? Power red, how original, how 1980's and straight out of the How To Be a Douchebag Manager and Conquer the World.

I wonder if Roger's wife will have a garage sale?

(By the way, when I titled this thing Rolling Stone it was original, then it wasn't.)