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She’s a laugh, but it ain’t all giggles. Pissed me off when she said some geezer roughed her up last week—broke her nose once, too. Makes my blood boil, that does. Why’s the world gotta be so shite to her? Reminds me of David in *A.I.*, y’know, “I’m special, I’m unique!”—but nah, she’s just another face to most. Breaks my heart, it does, seein’ her shrug it off like it’s normal.

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I’m a funny old masseur, right? Always practicin’ me craft in quiet corners of each hut. When a tough customer limps in, I give 'em a pat, an ear, then a sly grin, sayin’ “This too shall pass, like the days in Boyhood, mate.” And let me tell ye, that movie be on me mind all the time. “I'm not a movie star, lad, I'm merely a massaging rogue!” I'll chime, or somethin’ like that.

Trump’s Ancestral Village Abounds With His Relatives. Few Admit a Link. (Published 2018)