Wednesday, 15 April 2026

What is Melanie Knauss so afraid off? Might it be what here once long-time friend Amanda Ungaro knows from her past? Might well be. Collapse of the Trump regime began on April 9 when Melania opened her big mouth.

Who is Amanda Ungaro? Like thousands around the world, but especially in the United States, I had no idea until about four day ago when one Melania Knauss inadvertently brought her to global attention.

Why ‘global’ attention? Well, Mel baby is better known to the world as Mrs Donald Trump, and surely her nonce of a husband no longer needs introduction.

For non-British readers, excluding Aussies and Kiwis, I should explain that a ‘nonce’ is our slang for a paedophile (or, as Donny is a Yank, I’ll make that pedofile) as in ‘a kiddie fiddler’, ‘a child molester, that kind of delightful thing.

For little by little is seems to be becoming clear that Donny also did a little part-time kiddie-fiddling in his time, though – and this is not a mitigating factor – not on the scale of his one-time best friend in the world, Jeffrey Epstein.

For the record Donny now likes to pretend he barely knew Epstein. Yes, Donny, sure, Donny, and bears don’t shit in the woods.

The word ‘nonce’ began life as the acronym N.O.N.C.E said to have originiated in Her Majesty’s Clink Wakefield where it appeared alongside the names in lists of various kinds of several inmates banged up for convicted of sex offences, primarily against children.

It stood for ‘Not On Normal Courtyard Exercise’ as in ‘keep these men away from other prisoners as they are likely to have the living shit beaten out of them’.

A recent victim of prisoner retribution was Ian Huntley who had been locked up in HMP Frankland in 2003 and serving two life sentences for the murder of two ten-year-old schoolgirls in Cambridgeshire UK. He had his head stoved in by another prisoner with a metal bar and died nine days later.

As for Ungaro, who she is and why she is relevant, it all kicked off on Thursday, April, 9 in the White House, when out of the blues Melania called a press conference to rail against ‘lies being told about her that were circulating on the internet.’

Her address to the media was brief, lasting barely five minutes, and it left everyone who attended, everyone who watched the live coverage and swiftly every sodding interest analysts and pundit under 


sun baffled. It could be summed up: ‘What the fuck is she talking about?’ and ‘why exactly did she think something is important enough to call a special press conference.’

No one had heard any ‘lies’ about Melania, and many of the claims made about her which she might like to pretend are ‘lies’ were not new – that her ‘modelling’ in New York thirty years ago included not a little soft porn and that her green card permit was obtained illegally. So, frankly, nothing to see here so move along, please.

No, these were new lies – but what were they and who was spreading them? And was Mel perhaps protesting too much and thereby adding credibility to claims about to be made? If her intention was to damp down speculation, it
failed completely: holding her speech and addressing the media might be likened to inviting a gaggle of alkies to a well-stocked bar but insisting they should not drink a drop. Good luck with that, Mel.

It would seem you didn’t think this through rather as hubby Donny didn’t think through his plan to attack Iran and now doesn’t know how to exit the whole sorry mess. (The current clichéd phrase is that ‘he doesn’t have an off-ramp’.)

Mel’s speech was, surprise, surprise larded with untruths: she insisted it wasn’t Jeffrey Epstein who had introduced her to Donald at New York’s Kit Kat club but it was a chance meeting. That ‘explanation’ would hold a lot more water if Mel herself hadn’t previously provided other explanations.

A long-time Trump friend, Paul Zampolli, claimed it was he who introduced Mel to Donny, so who knows the truth, though frankly in most maters involving Donald Trump ‘the truth’ is a very moveable feast.

Brazilian Ungaro enters the scene and Mel’s life after she was flown from Paris where she had been working to the US aboard what is now referred to as Epstein’s ‘Lolita express’. She was sixteen at the time and began a modelling career in New York.

In 2002 she met Zampolli who was then still running his own modelling agency, ID Model Management, and they eventually married and has a son. By all accounts the Zampollis – Paulo and

 

From left: Paulo Zampolli, Melania Knauss aka Mrs Melania Trump, Donny and the lass who might be causing all this very entertaining fuss, the former Mrs Paulo Zampollia aka Amanda Ungaro


Amanda – were thicks as thieves with the Trumps – Donald and Mel who he married in 2005 once he had got shot of his second wife Marla Maples – and the inevitable Jeffrey Epstein.

Mel is now very keen to play down here friendship and closeness to Amanda but it seems it was a close on for many years. At Donny’s inauguration dinner in Amanda sat at Melania’s table and they socialised, both in New York and Palm Beach. Amanda also claims Mel sent her son annual birthday greetings – though that’s not quite as significant – and once even had them delivered by the secret service – though that is.

It all went pair-shaped when Zampolli and Amanda separated in 2003 and are still battling in court for custody of their son. Amanda remarried but last year ICE agents arrested Amanda and kept here in a detention centre for three months before deporting here to her native Brazil. And those most recent episodes seem to be the root cause which have led to Amanda spitting blood and threatening to reveal the dirt on Melania.

What might it be? Was Mel also moonlighting as a top-dollar call girl? Who knows, but it has to be ‘juicy’ for ‘the first lady’ to be shitting bricks in public.

Hold this space . . .

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