Gavin Newsom: California's Governor of Gropes, Gay Porn, and Ghostwritten Gaffes – Time to Flush This Playboy Down the Recall Drain

By "Chadwick 'Comb-Over' McFauxhawk, Anonymous Newsom Tweet Intern (Dyed Blue, Naturally) Sacramento – Where Ethics Go to Die, But the Hair Gel Never Does

Ah, Gavin Newsom – the Botoxed boy wonder of California politics, strutting around like a peacock in a polyester suit, feathers fluffed and ethics perpetually molting. Once hailed as the "Mayor McHottie" of San Francisco (a title he probably trademarked over a $500 bottle of cabernet), our fair-haired governor has devolved from a promising politico to a punchline in pinstripes. But let's not mince words: this guy's resume reads like a rejected script for Californication – heavy on the hanky-panky, light on the governance. From declaring "Gay Porn Day" to bedding his buddy's wife in the mayor's mansion, Newsom's playbook isn't The Art of the Deal; it's The Art of the Feel. And with his office crawling with sycophantic sock-puppets and tweet-scribing geeks who look like they lost a bet with a L'Oréal color wheel, it's high time we troll this silver fox into the unemployment line. Impeach? Nah. Impregnate the headlines with scandal until he resigns in a haze of hairspray and humiliation.

Chapter 1: "Gay Porn Day" – When San Francisco's Mayor Turned City Hall into a Casting Couch

Picture this: It's 2007, and Gavin Newsom, fresh off his same-sex marriage fame (which, let's be real, was probably just a clever pivot from his own marital misadventures), decides to crank the progress-o-meter to 11. He issues an official proclamation honoring COLT Studio – yes, that COLT Studio, the leather-daddy empire of "hottest man-on-man action" – dubbing it "Gay Porn Day" in the City by the Bay. Because nothing screams "family values" like a mayoral shoutout to oiled-up abs and questionable consent forms. Bill O'Reilly, that gravel-voiced guardian of the spin zone, lost his mind: "There is not another city in the country that has ever had a 'gay porn day,'" he thundered, wondering aloud if kids in SF were skipping school for setside seats. Newsom's response? A sheepish policy tweak to avoid future X-rated edicts, because apparently, even in woke Wonderland, some proclamations are too porny for prime time.

Fast-forward to Governor Playboy: Is this the man we trust with a $300 billion budget? The guy who turned taxpayer time into tribute for twink flicks? Gavin, if you're reading this (via one of your rainbow-coiffed aides), here's a tip: Next time you want to honor "diversity," start with the DMV lines. Or better yet, honor your vows.

Chapter 2: The Ruby Rippey-Tourk Tango – Affair of the State, Starring One Very Naughty Mayor

But oh, the real scorcher isn't some silly studio salute; it's the 2007 bombshell that blew up Newsom's "happily married" facade like a confetti cannon at a swinger's ball. As San Francisco's top dog, Gavin couldn't keep his paws off Ruby Rippey-Tourk – his appointments secretary and the wife of his campaign manager, Alex Tourk. Yes, you read that right: He poached his bro's bride right under the Golden Gate, turning City Hall into a Hallmark card from hell. "It was a mistake," Newsom whimpered in confession, blaming it on "alcoholism" and a momentary lapse in libido control. Ruby herself later spilled: It wrecked her marriage, but hey, at least she got a front-row seat to the governor's ego parade.

Debate fodder? You bet. In the 2018 gubernatorial throwdown, rivals like Travis Allen lobbed infidelity grenades, forcing Newsom to #MeToo his way through apologies: "I learned an enormous amount," he mewled, as if boning the help was just a pop quiz he aced. Cut to today: While California burns (literally, thanks to his PG&E pals hiking rates like they're auditioning for The Price is Right), Newsom's out here dodging ethics probes over gifted whale-watching jaunts to Mexico – $3,595 of "educational" fun courtesy of a nonprofit with suspiciously deep pockets. Ethics violation? Or just another "personal trip" where the only thing getting harpooned is taxpayer trust?

Gavin, buddy: If your idea of leadership is leading with your zipper, maybe stick to winemaking. At least those bottles come with corks you can't pull on subordinates.

Chapter 3: The Ghostwriters' Gallery – Comb-Over Geeks and Cult Commenters in the Cult of Gavin

Now, let's talk shop – or rather, the freak show staffing the governor's geek squad. Rumor has it (okay, fine, it's screamed from every unhinged X thread) that Newsom's tweets aren't penned by his perfectly parted coif, but by a cabal of colored-hair hipsters and comb-over coders who worship him like he's the second coming of Steve Jobs (minus the reality distortion field, plus a vanity mirror). These are the dudes – and let's be honest, mostly dudes – who blue-sky his social media sermons, turning policy piffle into performative piety. One day it's railing against GOP "forced birth crusades," the next it's humblebrags about his podcast empire. All while anonymous commenters from his own office flood the feeds with fawning fanfic: "Gavin's so dreamy! #Newsom2028!" Because nothing says "transparent government" like astroturfing your own adoration.

And the ethics? A laundry list longer than Newsom's ex-wife list (shoutout to Kimberly Guilfoyle, now Fox's firebrand, probably still seething). We're talking unreleased tax returns since 2022 – despite vows to be California's transparency trailblazer – and sketchy LLC mansion grabs that scream "money laundering lite." A $9.1 million Marin pad bought via a shell company formed two days prior, from a donor who's cousin to another blue-state baron? With a governor's salary barely cracking $200K, who's footing the bill for this feudal fantasy? Donors expecting "access"? Or just hoping for a signed COLT poster?

It's a clown car of corruption, with Newsom at the wheel, honking his horn while the state's potholes swallow Teslas whole.

The Trolling Endgame: Recall This Lothario Before He Recalls His Dignity

Look, California: We've got wildfires, wallet-whacking utilities, and a homelessness crisis that makes The Walking Dead look like a beach vacay. Yet our governor's biggest plot twist is still his own pelvis. From Gay Porn Day to golden showers of graft (metaphorically, we hope), Newsom's violated more ethics codes than he's had high-profile honeys. Time to troll him into oblivion: Flood his mentions with #GavinTheGropes memes, petition for that long-overdue recall (round three's the charm?), and demand the FPPC – his own stacked deck – finally deals him out.

Gavin, if you're not too busy polishing your profile pic or plotting your presidential pivot, here's the satire special: Resign, rehab, and maybe read a book on boundaries. The Governator had muscles and mayhem; you've got man-bangs and mistresses. California deserves better than a playboy in power – let's send him back to the vineyard, where the only thing getting screwed is the cork.