Oh, y'know, just a normal Wednesday night, drowning in madness, like we do now.
I have no idea what the fuck is going on anymore, folks. Somebody stapled my feet to the floor of the carousel we call the news cycle, left me with nothing but 300 pounds of cotton candy to eat, turned on CNN, and ran away laughing.
Whelp, we all woke up to the news that the Spraytan Cray Man announced via the Pneumatic Tweeting Machine that he was, by fiat, banning transgender Americans form serving in the military.
Yes, Donald J. Trump, (the "J" stands for "Stolen Valor,"
multi-time draft dodger, the dude who doesn't even have the sack to fire Jeff Sessions, decided to shit on and dehumanize thousands of folks who've sacrificed in ways no one in his cheap grifter family ever will.
The idea seems to be that if he rolls back the rights of a small, vulnerable minority that his frothing, "evangelical" base loathes and fears, maybe they won't notice that he betrayed his country and broke every promise from bringing back manufacturing jobs to building his big stupid wall to getting Scott Baio back on a Thursday-night sitcom.
As a side note, the Pentagon apparently found out about this at exactly the same time the rest of us did, because why the fuck would the President bother to actually think before he does anything?
But it gets worse. Here's the first SCROTAL tweet in the series that would announce the transgender ban:
"After consultation with my Generals and military experts, please be advised that the United
States Government will not accept or allow......"
Fuck, what does THAT mean? And because it takes Il Douche nine whole minutes to finish typing out the rest of his sentence with his barely-functional toddler hands, the United States military waited nine of the longest minutes in human history to see if the deranged Manchild occupying the Oval Office was declaring war on North Korea in a motherfucking Tweet.
Luckily (?), he was just being a gigantic, bigoted, sack of shit. It's like the Cuban Missile Crisis, only with idiocy instead of geopolitics.
In the magically-televised-now press briefing, Sarah HuckSands wasn't able to answer basic questions about Shartboy's ban, of course, because why would the government work out the details of a thing before announcing it to the world? SHS even got pissed at the press for asking questions any rational human being would ask, and threatened to end the briefing if reporters kept asking them. Suuuuuuuper-normal.
Also, I guess Ministress of Propaganda will henceforth be opening her briefings by reading a letter from some gushing Drumpkin, praising the God Emperor for all his greatness? That's another totally normal thing that happens in America all the time! It's only a shame that Norman Rockwell isn't around to paint Sarah Huckabee Sanders reading a creepy propaganda letter to a despairing press corps, amiright?
Anyhow, things've been pretty rough on Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet lately, so last night he retreated to his safe space; a campaign/Klan rally in Youngstown, Ohio. Naturally he boasted about his crowd size, buuuuuuut while he played to a sold-out crowd, he was booked in a small-town hockey park that held about 8,000, less than a minor league baseball field. Let me remind you that a band that can sell out stadiums doesn't play state fairs.
So the Marmalade Shartcannon played all his greatest hits for his pathetically tiny crowd. Free from the weiner-shrinking gaze of the fact-checkers, he gleefully lied about all the mining jobs he wasn't creating, and the bloodthirsty brown-skinned monsters who aren't cutting poor pony-tailed white children into pieces just for shits n' giggles, and about how Salma Hayek wanted to date him, but he said she was too Mexican, and so she ran away and cried.
High on unearned self-regard, the Velveeta Urinal Cake even declared himself to be more Presidential than anyone but Lincoln! This actually may open up a whole new avenue for resistance, as my sources tell me that Zombie Chester Arthur has risen from his forgotten grave, and he is PISSED OFF.
So I guess DoJ (Which I pronounce, out loud, as "dooj," try it, "Doooooooooooj." says that an old business partner of Paul Manafort turned out to be a bigshot player in the Russian organized crime/oligarch/money-laundering-through-New-York-real-estate circles that so many members of the Shart Administration keep getting tangled up in. These coincidences keep getting zanier and zanier, don't they? I bet in the end, it turns out Drumpf is Bannon's real dad, and Eric is married to Betsy DeVos, but sorry Donnie, you're still not allowed to fuck Ivanka. Truly, these are the Days of Our Lives.
CNN tells us that Matt Drudge keeps popping up at the White House, maybe just to hang out and watch Robot Wars, but he's always eating Stephen Miller's Lean Cuisines, and I guess he's getting pissy about how Orange Julius Caesar isn't keeping his campaign promises.
Heh. Get in line, Matty.
Failed Reality Star/Somehow the Secretary of Fucking Energy Rick Perry claimed the coveted "Golden Assclown" trophy today, a title awarded to the member of the administration who most humiliates his country through acts of grotesque incompetence. It seems Perry, who you'll remember didn't know what his job was until he accepted it, spent 22 minutes on the phone with a couple of Russian pranksters who convinced him they were the Ukrainian Prime Minister, because Rick Perry, despite being one of the most experienced Cabinet officials currently serving, is a gigantic fucking dope who would lose his own dick if he didn't keep a map of his groin in his pants pocket.
FUCK.
Anyhow. So where're we at with the DIE, PEASANTS, DIE!!!, excuse me, "Health Care" bill?
Well, the John McCain Who Speaks made his heroic return to the floor of the Senate yesterday, delivering a rousing speech denouncing partisanship and calling for a return to regular order!
Little did the John McCain Who Speaks know that the John McCain Who Votes had just cast his (decisive) ballot to open debate on a bill developed outside of regular order, one that deliberately shut out all input from the Democratic Party!
The John McCain Who Speaks pounded the podium and boldly declared he would never vote the bill being considered, at least not without substantial changes! Six hours later, the John McCain Who Votes voted for the bill with no changes whatsoever!
One of these days the John McCain Who Speaks and the John McCain Who Votes are going to meet face to face, and thumb-wrestle for supremacy. Until then, the John McCain Who Speaks will continue to deceive cable news personalities into pretending the John McCain Who Votes doesn't exist.
(Meanwhile Mazie Hirono, who is also battling cancer, keeps fighting to actually PROTECT health care for her fellow Americans. Mazie Hirono is the hero John McCain pretends to be, and people should talk about that more.)
Anyhow, the state of the health care debate in the Senate today is...theatre. Everybody's voting on bills they know have no chance of becoming law, waiting for Mitch McConnell to stitch some monstrosity together, march it out to the floor, make it dance to Puttin' on the Ritz, and see if it can get 50 votes.
Meanwhile Jeff Merkley keeps introducing amendments to slow shit down and get the GOP on the record opposing Puppies and Hugs and Basic Human Decency. Dean Heller offered a symbolic amendment pledging that Medicaid be protected, which he imagines will count for something when he eventually votes for a bill that guts Medicaid.
And so apparently it all boils down to "skinny repeal," which is like "repeal" with a sugar-free syrup, maybe? Nobody knows for sure, but the skinny is (get it? GET IT?!?!?!?) that it'll entail repealing the individual and employer mandates, which every rational expert tells us will strip coverage from millions and blow up the insurance markets, but FUCK, Y'ALL, Mitch McConnell wants to be remembered as a motherfuckin' COWBOY, so let's Wild Bunch this shit, bros!
I don't know what the fuck is going to happen, but let's all call our Senators and say "Hey, howzabout you don't kill us?" and hope for the fuckin' best. I think we're gonna need to get out in the streets over this, Resisters.
Also, because the media can't stop shitting in our lemonade by asking the shambling hordes of mouth-breathing Drumpf supporters what they think about things, we were treated to the knowledge that almost half of his voters believe that he won the popular vote last November. Digging a little deeper into the cross tabs, we learn that 32% of Shart voters assume network television broadcasts subliminal anti-God messaging, that 44% think hand-dryers in public restrooms harness the power of Satan, and that a full 82% believe the Moon is a glow-in-the-dark frisbee their neighbors hang from a tree in the backyard to fuck with their heads.
Word is, recently deposed punching bag Sean Spicer had a bunch of meetings today with all the big news companies. I imagine he was pitching a show called "The Spice Rack," a cooking program where he verbally describes baking a cake while he obviously makes spaghetti sauce. FOOD NETWORK GASLIGHTING, BITCHES!!!!!
And now I guess Sam Brownback, fresh off a couple terms worth of burning down the majestic Kansas wheat fields and blowing up the Yellow Brick road, is getting a promotion to be some kind of Roving Faux Christian Ambassador/Scold, keeping with the current regime's animating theme of Mediocre White Dudes Failing Upwards. Only in the Republican Party do they reward cataclysmic failure so generously.
And...what the fuck did Jeff Sessions do now? I JUST STEPPED ASIDE FOR TEN MINUTES TO TAKE A DUMP, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?
Nope, it's real. The Justice Department of the United States of America, led by the Last Confederate, Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III, stood in court today, and argued that civil rights law doesn't grant protections to gay workers. Dooooooj isn't even a party in the case. They just knocked on the door, said "excuse me, can I borrow a cup of jagoff? Also, gay people don't have rights."
Can you imagine having a soul as tiny and withered as Jeff Sessions? Seeing the writing on the wall, knowing your political career is weeks, even days away from being ended in disgrace by the very raging obscenity you yourself enabled, and saying "By gum, if I'm going down, I'm doing everything I can to roll back the hard-won rights of my fellow citizens before I go!"
If...IF Jeff Sessions has a soul, it's shaped like the maggots that feast on roadkill. Specifically the ones that gravitate towards the lower intestines. Yeah, that's Jeff Sessions, alright...a maggot devouring a mostly-smashed raccoon rectum on Highway 90.
Oh, and what's this? Tangerine Idi Amin indulged in a little Mt. Rushmore fantasy? Tell you what, bro...we'll carve your name on the toilet seat in the gift shop.
As per usual, the day's news has bludgeoned my cranium like an avalanche of rabid, wrench-wielding honey badgers. In the not-at-all-unlikely scenario where my brain runs, screaming, from my skull as I sleep tonight, and I'm no longer around to write these reaps...remember, Shower Cap sez...VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS!!!!
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I've been to the Mount Rushmore gift shop. There is a definite need for such an item! 
for you and your amazing post, my dear Ferret!
Gawd almighty. I just read you on Facebook, and I could hardly wait to get back here to send you to that Page Where You Always End Up!
Do you realize that EVERY post of yours has gone there??? Well, I believe they all have........because they are so damn good.
Thank You.
LOL!
I won't lie; I was in the Slough of Despond this morning. But she relminded me that there's no fucking way the military is going to just fire every trans person who's an integral part of the massive military complex. It would fall apart. I was a military brat and now I remember the joys of military bureaucracy. If they want to stall for YEARS they can lose paperwork and create committees be study that sucker to death.
And you reminded me that there's more than one dying of the light to rage against. Rock on, Ferret. 
I was a military bureaucrat and the military's ability to stall a WTF to death is epic.
First, simply ignore it; second, go through the motions, then ignore it. Third, send it back with vague questions concerning conflicting regs and EOs that haven't been enforced since Hap Arnold was a pup. Fourth, create a crisis, program, revision (your favorite diversion here) priority and WTF will go to the bottom of the in basket or bottom file drawer where it will compost along with Zero Defects and Management by Objective. Finally, the Death Blow - commission The Study. Pull a few million out of the coffee fund and have a think tank do a very complex, detailed examination of WTF starting with quartermaster organization in the Roman legions. When done right, by the time of the next election, it has passed from history to legend, now remembered only in VFW halls.
Shat Stain thinks he's the pharaoh in The Ten Commandments. "Let it be written; let it be done."
F-ing hilarious. I laughed...I cried.
Last edited Sun Jul 30, 2017, 07:38 PM - Edit history (2)
I was thinking how quaint it would be to meet up and discuss trifles like the weather or if 'smores are better with milk or dark chocolate.
:sigh:
But! I digress.
Like you, if I should spontaneously disappear from my usual haunts, it is likely that I have involuntarily gone full-on John Nash and I would appreciate it if a search party of caring and highly trained elite High School Guidance Counsellors could be formed to find, retrieve, and hermetically store my still living, but, unoccupied mortal remains until such time as my sense feels it's safe to return... Could be a long wait. I will probably be found in a rural garage or pool barn somewhere drubbing my lips and drawing pictures of various Republican political figures and Russian Oligarchs as poop emojis on the walls, connecting them with a stub of orange crayon (hee, get it? CRAY-on! HAHAHAHA!). Thanks in advance. :|
So, we're clear. My attention to your posts has shifted from your rundown of the plethora of gishgalloping hippo fart doings of the cray-cray Republikkkans to a dependence on reading your analysis of the significant events or maybe it's better stated, your take on what events are significant and how. Thanks again for what you've done so far and I hope someday we can all look back on this and say, "Nah!" Take care.
There really should be a smilie with liquid blowing out the nose.
Awesome as ever! Bravo!
Given the run-of-the-mill daily news we've been getting, YOU'RE STARTING TO SOUND SANE!
High on unearned self-regard, the Velveeta Urinal Cake even declared himself to be more Presidential than anyone but Lincoln! This actually may open up a whole new avenue for resistance, as my sources tell me that Zombie Chester Arthur has risen from his forgotten grave, and he is PISSED OFF
Thank you,TheFerret, for so eloquently analyzing and summarizing the super-cray situation in which our country is mired.
🇺🇸VOTE in the MIDTERMS! 🇺🇸 
.....I'm sure he's pissed as well!!!!
Wish I could rec it more than once.
Thanks for expressing so brilliantly how many of us our feeling right now.
Full of quotable moments: "..a maggot devouring a mostly-smashed raccoon rectum on Highway 90."
+100!!!
and smoke a joint (provided you are in a legal state)... or sitting in a hot bath for about an hour helps too.
This is why I love the WEST COAST....it not always those ocean breezes that feel good!
