I don’t know folks. Unless something big happens, I’m about to wrap this one up. The closest I can come to how it was Elliot Broidy who is Shera Bechard’s babydaddy is described in the below video. All I gotta say is, for dodgy lawyers who know each other really well, Keith Davidson and Michael Cohen sure were generous to Shera Becard.
He was rich. She was pregnant. End of story.
Elliot Broidy is rich. Shera Bechard was pregnant. End of story.
Elliot Broidy is rich. Shera Bechard was pregnant. End of story.
I have decided that Elliot Broidy is the babydaddy. He’s Shera Bechard’s babydaddy. He was rich, she was pregnant and that’s it. Having said that, I can’t in good faith not note the $1.6 million payoff figure. Let’s look at it this way:
Keith Davidson and Michael Cohen are best buds and literal partners in crime.
Elliot Broidy is wealthy but compared to Donald Trump a nobody.
Broidy’s wife is obviously pretty chill about this situation.
Donald Trump as president has a lot more reason to get Broidy to be the fall guy for access at $1.6 million than Broidy does simply to pay Bechard off to go away.
Trump has no reason to even pay Broidy back because it’s about access.
It can’t be an access side hustle for Cohen because he wouldn’t have gotten any money for access.
But everything else tells me it’s Broidy. No one is looking at this Website and beyond the New York Magazine guy there doesn’t seem to be an active investigation at all. That leads me to believe the powers that be have answered this question — it’s Broidy — and they don’t care.
So that’s that. It’s over. The end.
When I was in college my algebra teacher gave us the cold, hard statistics — about 20% of would fail no matter what and would never pass college algebra. I scoffed at this notion and was determined to prove her wrong. Well, she was right and I wrong.
So, with that in mind, this evening I was at work and I thought I had everything figured out. I thought Trump, not Elliot Broidy, had to be Bechard’s babydaddy because of cold, hard logic. There was no way that Broidy would pay $1.6 million independent of Trump because of the connection of Keith Davidson and Michael Cohen. It seemed I had cracked the nut. I had figured out what no one else had managed to do.
For one, bright and shining moment, I was happy.
Unfortunately, I sent a few stray emails at this moment in time that in hindsight I probably shouldn’t have sent.
This is because the liberal fever dream broke and reality sank in.
Broidy’s rich and Bechard was pregnant.
That’s it. That’s the story. The rest was just noise.
From my Web stats I definitely get the sense that there’s no momentum on any investigation of the notion that it’s not Elliot Broidy but Donald J. Trump who got Shera Bechard pregnant. So, that leads me to believe that the people with the resources to know the truth know it’s Broidy and I should just shut up.
Having said that, I find myself wanting that evidence of a Broidy-Bechard affair to be a bit more democratized. If they really did date for about two years it’s difficult for me to believe that even if you say an enormous swath of information is protected under the NDA that someone, somewhere wouldn’t be provoked enough by my conspicuous speculation — not to mention that of New York Magazine — that they would call bullshit on us.
So, Shera Bechard a gorgeous, young quasi-public figure who bounced around the Playboy community would have been able to keep a two year affair with Elliot Broidy secret. I’m willing to accept that and it’s not so much that I want proof, I just want common people like me to have a reason to believe it’s so beyond a “trust me.” Maybe it’s just my temperament to not have blind faith in anything, even the citadels of otherwise respected power. That’s a hallmark of my personality to date — not to give absolute credence to power if there is evidence that they may have cause to mislead me.
Or maybe I just want a second opinion.
We now approach the Big Black Void. We now leave the horizon of the know and venture off into the unknown. For me, a lot of this hinges on why Broidy, of all people, would have been picked as a fall guy. If you speculate that he wasn’t just a rano relative to TrumpCohen then he makes perfect sense. Even better if Broidy had some connection to Bechard already. Your plausible deniability ratio goes up significantly because a source could say, yes, Broidy did date Bechard and simply leave out that she was dating Trump as well.
Or if you really wanted to get all tinfoil hat about it, maybe there’s more bullshit to this cover story than we imagine. What if Trump wasn’t actively banging Bechard as nearly as much as we might suspect. She waited a long time before she got the abortion — she was “curvy” — so maybe she didn’t really have all that much connection to the babydaddy. Maybe it took her so long to tell the babydaddy because he was too busy running — or ruining — the free world. She only contacted him when it was make-or-break with the baby. If you REALLY wanted to get conspiratorial, she was far enough long that she risked having a late-term abortion if she didn’t make a decision on the fate of the baby it would be too late. But that’s really pushing it. That’s just bonkers.
We haven’t even touched on the Stupid Watergate quality of this. That TrumpCohen would be so brazen — or indifferent, or panicked — that they would grab Keith Davidson to represent Bechard is pretty shocking. But maybe I’m misinterpreting facts. Bechard was pregnant in Beverly Hills and throw a random, luck of the draw referral she ended up with Keith Davidson. I have to just give up and accept that I guess. That’s what I’m being told to believe, so it has to right, right?
But I have to accept that I’ll never know the way I want to know. There’s no momentum and that’s that. I have other things I need to do with my life and I’m satisfied to the extent I’m ever going to be satisfied I think. I’m a nobody. A ranting, drunk, failed reporter who’s been all but excommunicated from the Richmond news business because I’m bonkers.
I’m not saying I’m going to stop talking about this for no other reason than I have nothing better to talk about for the time being. But like I said, I have closure.
Shelton Bumgarner is a writer and photographer living in Richmond, Va. He may be reached at migukin (at) gmail (dot) com.
I have come up with a lot of dumb ideas over the last six years since I came back from South Korea the last time. So many that the #FOTUS Theory has, to date, followed the same script. I come up with a crazy idea, obsess over it for about a week until finally either someone yells at me for being wrong or I get bored and move on.
I’ve not reached the point where I’m prepared to say this time it’s different because of basic confirmation basis and how much being right has the potential to change my life on a pretty basic level. I’ve really put myself out there beyond what in the moment any person would rightfully feel you could go and if it was proved by a reputable news organization that I had been prescient then, well, there you go.
But if this is just another dumb idea there are at least a few pings from the big black void that are enough for me to take notice. If the dragon of #FOTUS being true is sleeping out there in the big black void, I’m at least hearing an echo of it snoring on its nest of gold.
Wow, what an extended metaphor.
I used to have cognitive dissidence about the #FOTUS theory. Now I have closure. I know nothing I do is going to finally answer the question in any official way. The theory that Peter K. Stris knows it’s Broidy and his legal and media strategy is to lay low until this blows over makes total sense. It’s viable logically to such an extent that I’m prepared to stop talking about the entirely — at least publicly — and start looking for a job and go back to being an anonymous failed drunk ranting reporter.
I feel as though my subconscious mind has decided that having accessed the information that it feels the only logical explanation is that Trump is the babydaddy and everything else is result of not properly putting the pieces together or active disinformation from people who at least in the short-term have every reason to make me believe this is an open and shut case.
During the course of a day I bounce back and forth on it being Broidy or Trump about 100 times. If it is Trump, Trump and Cohen were either stupid, brazen or panicked at the time they thought up this cover story. I would even go so far as to say Bechard and Broidy knew each other enough that when TrumpCohen was looking around for fall guys he was prefect. I mean, if Broidy is the fall guy, why him of all people? Why pick Broidy unless from their point of view there was a logic to it.
But again, for the time being it’s Broidy. My heart screams that its Trump, but for now, I have closure. It’s Broidy and I just need to move on with my life. I need to accept that it was Broidy and that nothing I do is going to determined the solution of this mystery one way or another.
Occam’s razor (or Ockham’s razor) is a principle from philosophy. Suppose there exist two explanations for an occurrence. In this case the simpler one is usually better. Another way of saying it is that the more assumptions you have to make, the more unlikely an explanation is.
By Shelton Bumgarner
Assumption: Shera Bechard was randomly, casually referred by a friend a NDA lawyer who was EXTREMELY close to Donald J. Trump’s personal fixer Michael Cohen. Like, those two are tight, tight, tight. How many NDA lawyers are their in Beverly Hills for Shera Bechard’s friends to choose from? I imagine at least 20. Beverly Hills is ground zero for starlets, bunnies and high class call girls who happened to be struck by a stray sperm. There must be more than one person — Keith Davidson — who handles all those cases. There’s gotta be.
Assumption: Elliot Broidy’s wife is EXTREMELY understanding.
Assumption: Broidy would just randomly be given direct access to the White House the day after the first check to Bechard cleared.
But it was Broidy. I’m misinterpreting things, or I’m a ranting drunk who needs AA. Luckily, no one listens to me and I can have my eyes bug out in obscurity at all of this.