What light through yonder dumpster breaks? It is the East, and I, Elinor Jones, am the sun, and this is The Trash Report, and you are my Trash Pandas, and this is how it's going to go: I'm going to write about some news and gossip that I read about in other places, and I'll add a few humorous observations, and you will go on to have a slightly more pleasant day. If some interesting joke or factoid sticks with you, nothing would please me more than you using it to start up a conversation with your crush. Off we go!

Trump Shit

Disgraced former president Donald Trump was just indicted for the second time, this time by the Feds for refusing to return a bunch of classified documents. He was already the only former president to be indicted on criminal charges—continuing to get indicted is just a little showy, isn't it? Like Michael Phelps entering more swimming competitions even though everybody already recognized that he was the fastest guy. That being said, I love a good Trump indictment, and hope to see many more. The photos out of Trump's Florida residence Mar-a-Lago feature dozens of boxes (presumably containing documents) stacked up in a bathroom. Hey Don, back in 2020, when we said we needed to stockpile toilet paper, this isn't what we meant! Trump has maintained that he's done nothing wrong while also being pretty open about the fact that he did take a bunch of boxes. I know the legal standard is "innocent until proven guilty," but how does that work when the guy keeps admitting that he did the crimes? "Innocent despite being clearly guilty" doesn't have quite the same ring to it. This seems like more of a "guilty unless the Justice Department prosecution really fucking blows it" situation.

As the list of Republican presidential candidates grows, Trump's list of allies shrinks. Even his favorite child, Ivanka, is increasing her distance. Well, not exactly. If we're talking literal distance, she's not increasing it. In fact, she's very close; she and her family also live in Florida. But the metaphorical distance is great, and growing: Ivanka is rumored to be planning on ditching Trump from her name and going by her husband's last name of Kushner instead. Jared Kushner's father, of course, spent some time in federal prison and is a convicted felon, so if that name is less problematic for Ivanka—well, I bet we know which way she's betting on her dad's verdict. 

Oh NOW Everybody Cares About Smoke

Last week Canadian wildfires caused much of the Northeastern United States to be blanketed in heavy smoke, to which all of us here on the West Coast stared directly at the camera and blinked. But we care. Of course we care! We don't own the rights to choking on air. This is a global experience, and we welcome our East Coast siblings to this special hell of not being able to breathe outside. The planet is only so large; the fire will come for us all. What if instead of saying "whatever, that's normal here," let's ask "HOW IS THIS NORMAL ANYWHERE?"

Wow, that last paragraph was as dark as a dry June day when we can't see the sun because the sky has been blackened by smoke! A fun thing to come from all of this was that singer Shawn Mendes used a picture of New York's apocalyptic orange skyline on the cover of his new single "What Are We Dying For?" and everyone's been dragging him because it seemed like he was trying to profit off the aesthetic of the fires. But I will not do that, because soon, all of our photos will feature orange skies. It'll be like when we all got Instagram at the same time and made everything sepia for a year, except instead of a filter it's our one planet's rapid uninhabitability, and instead of a year it's forever.

Speaking of Shawn Mendes, word is that he and Camila Cabello broke up for the second time last week. The guy's going through it, and he can't even sit at a windowsill and cry while watching the rain cascading down the glass. There's no more rain! Clearly, Mendes is merely proffering an alternate view for heartbreak for our 21st-century reality. Really, we should be thanking him.

You Can't Say Celebration without Celeb

Mazel to Naomi Watts (who I thought was still married to Liev Schreiber) on her recent courthouse wedding to Billy Crudup (who I thought was still with Claire Danes). Apparently Naomi and Billy have been together for six years, and as enmeshed as I am in the People magazine set, you'd think I would have heard about it by now. And I probably have! But I think this will be one of those couples whose existence never sticks with me. Several years ago I read that Naomi had Liev working her shifts at a Brooklyn food co-op and that imprinted on me so fully that the two of them will just always be a couple. (Can't find the link now—it was a really long time ago.) Same with Billy and Claire, because of how fucked up it is that they started dating when Billy left his heavily pregnant partner Mary Louise Parker for her. Those are the relationship facts that I have space for regarding Naomi and Liev, so to me, their marriage is pointless. Mazel, tho.

Country superstar Garth Brooks is being confusingly cool about plans for his new bar and how it will carry all beers, including Bud Light, which many consider a very threatening beer because trans star Dylan Mulvaney is their spokesperson. I was confused because—like Naomi and Billy's relaysh—it's easy to forget that Garth is cool. But he's been on the right side of any culture war he can't avoid getting pulled into. In other Garth news, he mentioned hopes to revive his hard rock alter-ego Chris Gaines, and I am all for country's biggest name drinking gay beer in heavy eyeliner.

Late breaking gossip: Bill Murray and Milkshake singer Kelis are rumored to be dating. This is a weird one. I need to sit with this one for a while. More later. 

Final celeb celebration: conservative hero and horrible person Pat Robertson has died. He inspired many to follow him in life; can he do the same in death? 

Time to go outside and take big gulps of fresh air before the next fires arrive. I hope you all have gorgeous weeks! I'm sorry that the things I talked about were kind of depressing and perhaps not the flirting fodder I'd meant to put together. Unless your crush is a freak. In which case: good luck!