Michael Cohen’s Opening Statement, The First Draft

TotD has eyes, ears, and genitals everywhere, Enthusiasts. From the sticky couches of Hollywood to the sun-dappled lanais of Palm Beach to a malfunctioning ice machine in Milwaukee, I know all. This is, of course thanks to the Haight Street Irregulars, a shadowy group of pranksters whose nipples harden as they sent classified documents, hidden receipts, and uncountable dick pics flying over my transom.

Today, I have the first draft of Michael Cohen’s opening statement to the House Oversight Committee. You can read the polished version here, but I think–as does Rod Stewart–that the first cut is the deepest.

And like Plato once said, “Rod Stewart. I don’t mind that guy’s early stuff.”

Chairman Cummings, Ranking Member Jordan, Mayor McCheese, the pigeons that have flown into the Capitol and cannot be gotten rid of, thank you for inviting me here today.

I ask the Committee to place my family into the Witness Protection Program, as there is strong evidence that Representative Gaetz will eat them. We have also, despite the gag order placed on him, been receiving threatening texts from Roger Stone. They are snapshots, also referred to as “selfies,” of his unwashed bunghole.

I am here under oath to tell the American people and their representatives in Congress what I know about President Trump. It’s a doozy. Some may question my credibility, seeing as how I have spent my entire life as a scumbag semi-criminal who married into a Russian mob family and later on took a job as the biggest liar in the world’s liar-in-residence.

I am ashamed of my actions, deeds, statements, and wardrobe. I have hurt my family and our good name, and sullied the reputation of that most honorable of businessman: the New York City taxicab medallion owner. My downfall stems from one place and one man: Donald Trump.

He is a putz.

He is a schmendrick.

He is a gonif.

I am providing the Committee with several documents that can corroborate my stories. These include, but are not limited to:

• A Polaroid of President Trump and I in Trump Tower. He is giving his signature “thumbs up” pose, and has written in his own personal hand on the back “This is the most trustworthy man I know.”
• At least a dozen legal pads upon which President Trump doodled Trump Tower Moscow and wrote in cursive “Mrs. Donald Putin” over and over again.
• A personal check from President Trump’s personal bank account as repayment for monies I had laid out to Miss Stormy Daniels. Remember her? You thought she went away, but I’m bringing Stormy back.

Allow me to comment specifically on the last of the documents I am presenting. The President of the United States wrote a personal check for the payment of hush money as part of a criminal scheme to violate campaign finance laws. Which is Game Over in a sane world, right? I know I went to the worst law school on the planet, but that’s a crime. If you were the mayor of, say, Pittsburgh and you got caught pulling that kind of crap, you would have to resign. But, hey, we’re apparently playing a whole new ball game here.

The entire time I knew President Trump, he never said one patriotic thing. In fact, the opposite sentiments often poured forth from him. “If I could, I would nuke everything in between Beverly Hills and Queens,” was something he said on occasion, in addition to “I like when American soldiers die.” After that bon mot, he would generally lift his foot and ask if anyone could see his bone spurs. On one trip to Washington in 2011, he attempted to urinate on the Vietnam Wall, with his son Junior and myself blocking on either side. He could not get his stream started, however, and we left to get hot dogs.

Questions have been raised about whether I have direct knowledge of a link between President Trump and the Russians. I do recall sitting with Mr, Trump in June of 2016, right before the controversial meeting between Junior and a Russian lawyer. This is the one involving e-mail about dirt on Hillary and so forth.

Mr. Trump and I were discussing the fact that black people love Burger King. We had discussed that fact many times before; it was one of Mr. Trump’s favorite topics. “You never go in a Burger King and don’t see blacks! And I have been in many Burger Kings, probably more than anyone else who’s not a black. They love the Whopper, the whole community. Can’t run a city or a country, the blacks, but they go nuts for a Whopper.”

Mr. Trump’s point was interrupted by a rattling at his office door, as if someone was trying to open the door but failing. It was Junior.

“You gotta turn the knob before you push the door, moron!” Mr, Trump yelled. Junior had been having trouble with doors his entire life, according to the President. Besides his various theories on race and fast food, Mr. Trump enjoyed expounding on how much of a loser Junior was.

Finally, Junior managed to open the door. He entered the office and went around the desk to whisper into Mr. Trump’s ear. This was highly unusual, as–much like a zebra–Mr. Trump reflexively bit those who came to close to his neck. When Junior was finished, Mr, Trump said, “Okay. Do it.” Then Junior attempted to kiss his father goodbye and was brutally rebuffed by a backhand, I am ashamed now that I laughed so hard and for so long.

What Junior whispered to him must have been regarding the Russia meeting. I say this based on Mr. Trump’s distrust of Junior, his knowledge of everything going on in his campaign, and the fact that Junior shouted “JARED! THE RUSSIA MEETING IS ON!” when he was halfway out the office door.

I know I have let everyone my country and my family down, and I hope only to tell the truth here in this room today. Someone please go check on my family, and I’m ready to answer your questions.