Donny's not the playboy he thinks he is. He has to pay to sleep with porn stars, then pay again to keep them quiet, and he overcompensates by creepily commenting on his own daughter's looks, suggesting she's the calibre of woman he'd sleep with, as if that's the pinnacle of praise.
Reflecting on my own circle of mates, the boys I've known for decades, through thick and thin, we act way more ‘gay' than our gay friends ever do. If I asked one of my gay mates whether my outfit was appropriate, I'd get an honest critique. Ask one of the boys, and I'd get, "I'd have your babies if you wore that," with a grin.
That's the difference. I don't think Donny has those kinds of friendships. His relationships are transactional, Cohen, Giuliani, now Rubio. They're colleagues, not true mates. Friends from work.
I reckon he's terrified of those raw, genuine moments slipping through, but they do anyway. His life must be incredibly lonely. Surrounded by sycophants, walled off from reality, drifting further into his own echo chamber.
With reports that his wife even charges appearance fees, how transactional does your life have to be for that?
I'd almost feel sorry for him, if he wasn't such a profoundly terrible person.
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