Dan Rattiner's Stories

Hacked: The Emails I Wrote Now Made Public Are All Lies

Few people know this, because I haven’t made a big deal about it, but back at the beginning of this campaign for President, when the Republicans offered up a whopping 17 candidates for their party’s nomination, I decided this would be a good time for me to throw my hat into the ring, too. I declared for the election of 2020, though. I figured with all the money being thrown around to support the different candidates in 2016, I could latch onto some of the overflow for the campaign I’d launch when the new President got inaugurated in January 2017. I’d immediately begin a withering barrage of negative advertising against that person. Look at the mess they’re making. That was my plan.

What I hadn’t counted on was that as an announced candidate, I’d immediately have to open an email account with the state department and move my mail over to their server in Washington. So I did that.

Last Monday, I got hacked.

As I’m told the contents of my email will be revealed tomorrow in a huge blast to all the media, I am here today to head off all the negativity I expect it will create.

Before I get to that, however, I would like to point out that it appears my email was a whole lot safer on the server in the basement of my home in East Hampton than on any goddamn state department server. But that argument is for another day.

First of all, I want to say that when I emailed my accountant that we should “fill a refrigerator carton with the money and bury it in my backyard,” I was referring to recycling. I had recently gotten a new refrigerator and I wanted to bury the carton it came in because the carton is biodegradable, and rather than throw it into the trash where it would get hauled off and attended to with lots of crushing machinery running on fume-creating gasoline, polluting the atmosphere, I would spare the earth by simply burying it where, in the end, it would wind up anyway. The name “money” should have been capitalized. But you know how it is when you type with thumbs. Money was the name of this small Icelandic appliance company that had made our now broken refrigerator. I thought it made sense to put the broken refrigerator in the cardboard box our new General Electric refrigerator had come in while in transit from P.C. Richard & Son in Southampton. Silly me.

The comments in my email referring to “Alicia,” who I suggested hop onto the bed for a little loving, refers to our Labrador Retriever. Alicia loves to have her tummy rubbed, and you will see references to that further on in the email, which I suspect will not be revealed in the treasure trove meant to embarrass and smear me. The fact that she is a dog will also explain my comment about her “licking my nose.”

When I wrote our Mayor and said “if you want an endorsement in my magazine at election time, you will deep six the plan to have the new car ferry to Connecticut dock at that stupid new pier you are planning to build at the end of the street where I live,” the truth is, I was referring to a plastic toy ferryboat that one of his kids, age 4, wanted for his birthday. It’s a long story, and I make no apologies for saying that.

There is also a whole other explanation for my note “I cannot decide whether to launder the funds in the Cayman Islands or Switzerland.” It has to do with an upcoming vacation my wife and I are planning. More about this on Hannity on Fox this Saturday at 5 p.m.

Finally, in my speech where I emailed the CEO of Goldman Sachs that “you guys will run the country if I’m elected, just wait,” I was talking about the country house my wife and I are building in the Berkshires. Somehow, I forgot the word “house” in the email. Well, they knew what I meant.

And now you do, too.

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