STOP, RUDY! JUST STOP!

Yes, I’m shouting at you, Mr Giuliani. Just as the President shouts in capital letters when he doesn’t like something people say about him, which is all the time.

But with you, I’m shouting because I’m finding it all heartbreaking. In my opinion, you are the man who transformed New York City: you made it safe; you turned it into the great place it became before Coronavirus struck. 

Is this the legacy you really want to leave behind? Defender of the faithless? Spokesman for a sociopath, a narcissist and the biggest man baby ever to have walked the Earth? 

Let’s start with the Borat movie. I have done a lot of broadcasting and have had to grapple with myself and have other people fondle me in many places, all in order to get a microphone on or off. But I have never felt the need to tenderly pat the person interviewing me or dealing with said microphone. Nor have I ever asked for anyone’s phone number. And when I’ve been filming in hotels, I’ve never once gone into a bedroom and lay down to do conduct the operation of adjusting myself back to normality. 

Then, you had the embarrassment of booking not the Four Seasons five-star hotel for your major press conference in Philadelphia, but the Four Seasons Total Landscaping company, basically a car park between a crematorium and a porn shop.

How we laughed. And laughed.

But then you topped it. Your starring role was at a press conference where, sweating as if you were self-combusting, your hair dye started to run down the side of your face. It was comedy gold and will remembered for as long as you live – and long after.

Is this how you want to be remembered? Seriously? A Falstaff cast out by King Henry IV when he no longer serves his purpose (because, trust me, Trump will wash his hands of you, just as he has done with everyone else – although washing that hair dye off his hands when he pushes you out of the door might take some doing).

Please, Mr Giuliani – for your reputation, for your dignity and self-respect, for your family, for the country you claim to love yet continue to do a great disservice, peddling the misinformation and lies. JUST STOP!

If you don’t, I fear that in the words of Suetonius to Julius Caesar, Alea lacta est – the die has been cast. 

Or, in your case, the dye. Literally.