The president-elect becomes the living embodiment of the last few drips after you zip up.

By Andrew J. Pridgen

Not so many years ago, I defended the scandalized Tiger Woods’ right to have his personal matters kept private.

Woods, before injuries and mental deterioration took him out of golf’s conversation, was his generation’s greatest athlete and ambassador. A stormy night in South Florida which featured one 9-1-1 call and one SUV smashed up with a golf club led to months of intel in the form of texts and tell-alls from Woods’s many mistresses.

Woods was humiliated, dropped by key sponsors and eventually, as artists who are scandalized at the highest levels often are, disappeared almost entirely from the public’s cross hairs. My defense of Woods was not saying it was OK that he stepped out on his marriage or welshed on his commitments to his children, but it was more as long as his extramarital affairs were consensual and legal, let the guy sort his dalliances out with his family.

Tiger Woods was also a private citizen. Tiger Woods did not melt it down sexually while running for the highest office in the land. Tiger Woods and his surrogates did not try to hide who he was or make a deal with the Russian intelligence community to cover up damning information.

So, that’s the difference between Tiger Woods and Donald Trump. That and some obvious hitches in his back swing.

Over the next 24 hours, or until the, um, seal is broken on the next scandal, we are going be awash in a steady stream of late night TV #GoldenShower jokes. Trump spokeswoman Kellyanne Conway for her part is going to shake something off like, “Remember, it’s not the hooker pee on his chest that counts, but the big heart that beats inside it.”

For this smoldering potty cake to continue sputtering towards inauguration, conservatives and the Trump camp will default to their playbook of deny and allege wrongdoing as they you know, attempt to find the nearest fire hydrant to mark. The Dems will also fall on familiar turf. They’ll blame everyone but themselves for this mess on the floor and characterize it as yet another distraction to take the news cycle away from the fact that an ethics-free cabinet vetting process is taking place.

Which it is.

We should know by now both sides are fueled up on Flomax and perversions of the truth. Albeit, the decrepitude plus ineptitude that is the mark of Trump leaves a much bigger stain in the snow.

I don’t mind Trump the private citizen getting golden showers in the Obama Suite at the Ritz Carlton. It’s demeaning and wrong and disgusting, and well, unsanitary past all realms of reason, but that’s the old man’s call. If that’s his deal with Melania, to hire Russian call girls to recycle their cranberry cocktail all over his torso to get him going, so be it.

What I do have a problem with is Trump the candidate, Trump the president-elect or Trump the president having tidbits like these, plus incredible financial commitments, stacked up inside the Kremlin like obscene matryoshka dolls. Because we know he’s awful and we know he’s so heavily leveraged this #GoldenShowerGate only seems like the tip …of the proverbial iceberg.

For his part, Trump does not agree with the latest leak and posts a link to a fake news site calling it fake news as, um, proof:

Maybe it is not 100 percent of the story. Maybe he’s more of a Russian hooker and Rusty Trombone type of guy.

More dangerously, Trump and his lackeys and followers must recognize this wouldn’t even be a thing if it weren’t rooted in the bizarre truth of his own sickness. Though he rose to political prominence by making up a wild lie about Obama’s birth certificate, nobody in the history of this country, or any country, has ever made up a #GoldenShowerScandal. It’s too far fetched not to be true.

And you know what they say, where there’s steam there’s pee.

The scandal-soaked president-to-be has no credibility, no morals and, most importantly, no moist towelette with which to remove this stain and the promise of the many many more such acrid scandals to come.

Furthermore, because of him (and yes, it’s him) we, you know, America — have lost all common sense and decency letting it go this far and for this long The arrow on our moral compass is broken. Perhaps these scandals are a sign that both parties and our system, not to mention our sense of common good, is quite literally awash in urine.

And the time to do something is now, before we flush it all down the drain.

Andrew J. Pridgen is the author of the novellaBurgundy Upholstery Sky”. His first full-length novel will be released in late-2017.

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