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Member since: Fri Mar 24, 2017, 07:48 PM
Number of posts: 494

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Dancing on ACA Repeal's grave, y'all.

Hey folks, sorry it's been a while...I stayed up late the other night watching the health care vote, and then I WENT ON A BENDER, DRUNK ON MITCH MCCONNELL'S TEARS, THAT SHIT IS LIKE ABSINTHE WITH FLINTSTONES VITAMINS AND A LITTLE COKE MIXED UP IN IT. Anyhow, I woke up in the alley behind Paul Ryan's place, I think he was strangling a gardener to death. He seemed upset.

GodDAMN I will never tire of watching Yertle the Master Legislator and the Shart of the Deal Himself, Donald J Trump (The "J" stands for "I Can't Do Anything Right and My Daddy Sent Me to Military School Because He Doesn't Love Me." fail so spectacularly.

Eager to demonstrate his deal-making prowess, the Marmalade Shartcannon sicced Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke on Lisa Murkowski, because Ryan is the Luca Brasi of the Cabinet, I guess? Zinke was all "Nice State you represent there, Lisa. Shame if anything happened to it." Murkowski chuckled, no doubt remembering she chairs a couple of Senate committees that just so happen to oversee Interior's business and budget.

So Senator Murkowski casually announced she was indefinitely postponing meetings to consider the Shart Administration's appointees to several posts at Interior, then she voted to sink Obamacare repeal anyway, and then she walked away in slow motion as a gasoline truck exploded behind her. I'm pretty sure The Rock was there.

As various iterations of repeal-and-replace-or-maybe-just-die-in-a-ditch-we-don't-actually-care-much failed, the Senate GOP seemed to coalesce around the idea of "Skinny Repeal," a version that didn't solve any problems, didn't even cut taxes on the rich, just haphazardly blew up the insurance market and fucked over a few million people.

Nobody thought it was a GOOD bill, mind you, but they were gonna pass it anyway, with the idea that if they locked themselves inside a cage with raving maniacs like Mo Brooks and Mark Meadows, some sort of magically perfect bill would materialize out of thin air. Yes, the finest legislative minds in the Republican Party were just about to pass a bill they wrote over lunch, on the condition that the House would agree NOT to pass it, because of what a shitty bill it is. JUST LIKE THE FOUNDING FATHERS INTENDED.

Paul Ryan was all "No, we totally won't pass it, come on over, we've got Zima!" but any fool could tell you the conference committee would be a few weeks of cacophonous shrieking followed by the House saying FUCK IT JUST PASS THE FUCKING SKINNY BILL, A LITTLE MURDER IS BETTER THAN NO MURDER!

Now, Susan Collins was never gonna vote for any of this shit, and Chuckie Schumer kept his entire caucus, from Manchin to Sanders, unwaveringly, unyieldingly, unshakably united, because we are a motherfucking TEAM and we are STRONGER TOGETHER*, so it all came down to a handful of fence-sitters, and as the day rolled by, shit didn't look good.

Capito and Portman were always going to fold, because that's what "moderate" Republicans do (If you ever get a chance to play poker with Rob Portman, DO IT.). Rand Paul decided that Skinny Repeal, while imperfect, would murder enough serfs to suit him. Dean Heller was gonna vote for it, because apparently he's sick of being a Senator and wants to get swept out with the rest of the trash in the midterms. (Have I mentioned that you should VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS, by the way?)

A few Senators made Paul Ryan pinkie swear that he wouldn't pass their shit bill, and he said "I will not make such a promise," and they said "good enough for me!" so things looked grim.

And so we all stayed up late watching fucking CSPAN, waiting for a bunch of rich old white fucks to ruin everything, as is their habit.

And then John McCain did the Maverick thing. Good for him. You spent the whole day reading about it, you don't need to hear about it from me. Besides, all the good gags are long since taken.

Senator McCain now returns to Arizona for cancer treatment. Good luck, sir.

Anyhow, millions of Americans can rest a little easier now, and all of the biggest assholes in the country seem pretty pissy, so me? I'm walking on fuckin' sunshine.

Especially since my table overfloweth with ACA Repeal Fuckup post-mortems. Everybody's mad at everybody else, at least on the donkeys-and-tax-cuts side of things, and suddenly more than half the year's gone, and unified Republican government has produced about as much success as a decade's worth of Cleveland Browns football.

Even Peggy Noonan joined the dogpile, writing a steam-powered taint punt of an editorial in the Wall Street Journal. Having observed all of Drumpf's projectile insecurities, Peggy hit him where it hurts, calling him weak and unmanly and saying he's Woody Allen except not funny, which would basically make him Reince Priebus. OUCH.

Do we have to talk about that ridiculous Scaramucci fellah? I guess so.

So this assclown isn't even officially on the job yet, but he pitches a great big fit about how Somebody Leaked My Disclosure Forms I'm Telling Dad and Also the FBI, until everybody in the world told him that THE WHOLE FUCKING POINT OF A DISCLOSURE FORM IS THAT IT'S PUBLIC, THAT'S WHY IT'S CALLED DISCLOSURE YOU PUDDING-BRAINED DIMWIT.

And he's the White House Communications Director. Of COURSE he is.

And of course you've seen THAT piece by now. Scaramucci called New Yorker reporter Ryan Lizza to try to threaten him into revealing a source, and ended up ranting like a teenager, jacked up on Grape Crush and Sour Patch Kids, talking trash on Xbox Live.

The big takeaway of course was that Anthony rather ungallantly revealed the last remaining unfulfilled fantasy of his co-worker, Steve Bannon (Not cool, Mooch! What happens in truth or dare STAYS in truth or dare!). Now, it's apparent to absolutely everyone that Scaramucci is comically under-qualified for his post, but so long as he punctuates every briefing and interview with tales of his Manchild Boss' god-like prowess at all things great and small, he's a lock to stick around.

Joking aside, Anthony Scaramucci is exactly the kind of jagoff we'll be dealing with from here on out. No one with any sense of self-preservation (or self-respect) will go to work for a guy who'll throw him/her under the bus without a moment's hesitation, leaving only malicious buffoons seizing the opportunity to flatter their way into positions of genuinely nightmarish levels of power.

Somebody needs to tell Mooch that ass-kissing only gets you so far with this fucker. Shit, Reince will never get the smell of well-done steak farts out of his molars, and look what happened to him.

Anyway. Huge bipartisan majorities in both houses passed a Russian sanctions bill, and boy is Drumpf's boss mad! Yup, Vlad is seizing American diplomatic property in Russia, even as his subservient lapdog trips over his own feet in eagerness to return Putin's spy compounds here on American soil. AMERICA FIRST!

Word is Il Douche plans to sign the sanctions bill, avoiding a humiliating veto override a few days after the leviathan-sized health care failure, and, as a bonus, allowing him to further brag about all the bills he's signed.

Now, because the Candycorn Skidmark is only really happy when he's LARPing a Nuremberg Rally, he gave a horrifying little speech in front of law enforcement officers in Long Island today. I tell you what, if he was half as good at legislating as he is at stoking stupid white people's fears of minorities, Obamacare would've been repealed in February.

In addition to the usual fabricated stories of Tales-From-the-Crypt-level violence and gore, Sharty McFly decided to sprinkle a lil' Call For Increased Police Brutality into this particular speech, because...well, shit, because the President of the United States of America is vacuous horror, a monstrous, soulless bastard, a man with a pulsating scrotal tumor oozing bile and pus where most men have a heart.

Whelp, Reince Pubis finally received the reward awaiting all of Tangerine Idi Amin's enablers, whether they understand it or not; a thankless, humiliating dismissal, thrust back into the cold world with his reputation burned to the ground with the earth salted like motherfucking Carthage, and the itching, inescapable knowledge that he betrayed his country and his constitution and no decent people will ever respect him again, and having nothing to show for it beyond a cheap red baseball cap made in fucking China.

Reince, I'd feel bad for you, but you're a collaborating piece of human garbage, you saw what you were enabling, and you went along with it anyway. I wish you hemorrhoids and root canals. May you mystically contract STDs without even experiencing intercourse. May your neighborhood bakery be forever sold out of your favorite do-nut. May you sit down some far-flung day to write your memoirs, only to vomit uncontrollably when you finally face the unforgivable choices you've made. You suck, Reince.

(Word is, Pubis got fucking kicked out of the Scrotal motorcade in the middle of the day? Good. I hope today is your fucking Groundhog Day, you turd. I hope you live it thirty thousand times.)

As always, there's more. North Korea's lobbing missiles left and right (weird that they didn't do this while Obama was around, isn't it?), Mooch's wife hit the road, and I guess John Delaney is running for President? I don't know who the fuck John Delaney is, but I bet Tim Pawlenty and George Pataki have already invited him to their poker game.

Shit, I made two poker jokes in one post. Fuck it, I'm tired. Leave a complaint with customer service, it fuckin' bothers you so much.

(Oh hey, read that Sally Yates editorial if you haven't already.)

*Everybody's talking about Collins and Murkowski and McCain, and that's cool, but let's get a few hip hip hoorays for the other 48 reasons this piece of shit went down. So here's to Schumer, Durbin, Warren, Franken, Wyden, Murray, Kaine, Harris, Brown, Murphy, Feinstein, Menendez, Stabenow, Manchin, Tester, Cortez Masto, Booker, Gillibrand, Donnelly, Sanders, Duckworth, Heitkamp, Nelson, Heinrich, Hirono, McCaskill, Leahy, King, Hassan, Shaheen, Warner, Van Hollen, Merkley, Udall, Blumenthal, Whitehouse, Klobuchar, Baldwin, Bennet, Coons, Casey, Reed, Cantwell, Carper, Schatz, Cardin, Markey, and Peters. We fucking owe y'all. Thank you.

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.


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.


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!!!!

WHAT THE LIVING FUCK IS GOING ON?!? Asking for a friend.

Fucking hell, campers.

The news is nuttier than squirrel poop these days. If the squirrel was like, a government lab test squirrel, administered copious amounts of LSD.

Well, we don't have Spicey Sean to kick around anymore. He has finally been pushed too far, and he's taking his stolen mini-fridge and going home. There was a brief temptation to pity this tiny, soulless, little man, who shipwrecked his hard-won reputation on the treacherous shores of the Drumpf Administration...but then you remember that he was an eager collaborator to the team of petty crooks who do their damndest daily to blow up our democracy and wipe their hemorrhoid-encrusted asses with our Constiution...so yeah, fuck him.

So, Sean Spicer, as you embark on this next chapter of your life, I wish you ingrown toenails and post office lines. May you be shunned from decent company for the rest of your days. May every Snickers bar turn to a warm cat turd in your mouth. May the man in the mirror each morning remind you of your crimes. When you get to the afterlife, Sean, know that George Washington will be waiting for you, and he's going to kick you right in the junk.

So over the weekend we met the new Shart House communications director, Ray Liotta cosplayer Anthony Scaramucci. (I'm not gonna make the obligatory Queen joke, because low-hanging fruit is for CUCKS.)

Scaramucci wasted no time engaging in the obligatory ass-kissing ritual. Now SCROTUS is some sort of super-athlete who throws a "perfect spiral" (If Baron Golfin Von Fatfuk can throw a "perfect spiral" I'll let Jeff Sessions crash on my couch after his collaborating ass gets fired, by the way.) and like, swats biplanes out of the air and taught Mike Trout how to play center field.

The Mooch was apparently not a popular choice among existing staffers, what with his No Relevant Experience Whatsoever. Not only did Spicey run away to hide in less-manicured bushes, but Reince Pubis has been sidelined even further, spending most of his days acting as Chief of Staff to a small collection of Star Wars legos he bought on his lunch break one day after H.R. McMaster gave him a particularly aggressive wedgie. Word is even Steve "Darth Wino" Bannon told Anthony he'd get the job "over my dead body." Got your hopes up for a minute, didn't it?

The President's Loyal Huntin' Dawg, Beauregard, certainly doesn't get to sleep at the foot of the bed these days. Not only did the Washington Post report that he seems to have lied to congress when he was attempting to cover his ass for lying to congress about something else, but it seems his Idiot Manchild boss throws regular tantrums about ol' Beau recusing himself rather than transforming the United States Justice Department into Drumpfy's personal, taxpayer-funded, justice-obstructin' traveling jug band.

So reports claim Team Shart is working on pushing Sessions out, and replacing him with Rotten-Toothed Hate Monster Rudy Giuliani, or maybe Ted Cruz, or perhaps just a Teddy Ruxpin doll with a tape that fires Robert Mueller and Rod Rosenstein, and then plays the "Na na na na, say hey hey" song on loop for twenty minutes.

(Now, there's a lot of serious shit going down these days, but the moment when Jeff Sessions' career finally ends in scandal and betrayal is rapidly approaching, and I'm gonna celebrate that moment with a chocolate cupcake dropped into a mop bucket full of scotch when it comes. Don't tell Bannon.)

Word is, Rex Tillerson is thinkin' about quittin' his post at State because somehow he's the last human being on Planet Earth who has noticed that Donald J Trump (The "J" stands for "I'm So Old and Gross Even Hookers Won't Touch My Pee-pee Anymore" treats everyone who works for him like so many flushable floaters. Stay or go, Rex, you'll never wash the stink off.

And the House passed a big Russia sanctions bill that the Marmalade Shartcannon definitely did not want. When Uncle Vlad sees this, he's gonna send Donnie to military school just like the real dad that never loved him and thus got the whole fucking world into this mess in the first place. Certainly there will be no pee hookers for the foreseeable future.

I guess the Senate GOP got ahold of some black market ground rhino horn, mashed it up in a batch of Purple Drank in John Cornyn's office, starting snorting Adderall off Johnny Isakson's ass, and decided to hold a bunch of last-ditch health care votes tomorrow.

Who cares if the Senate Parliamentarian is stripping amendments left and right? Who cares if everyone has to eventually face a constituency whipped up into a rage over being, y'know, MURDERED BY THEIR SENATORS, it's fucking Spring Break at the Koch Brothers' Beach Resort, where we hunt the poor for sport and pour mimosas out of the IV bags that won't carry life-saving medication because the DUMBASS PLEBES CAN'T FUCKING AFFORD IT WUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT!?!?!??!?!

Now, Mitch McConnell won't tell anybody exactly what it's in the bill they'll be voting for. Maybe it's the House bill. Maybe it's straight repeal. Maybe it's Ted Cruz in pasties and a g-string. Whatever it is, it's gonna kill thousands of Americans, and we're relying on Rob Portman's decency to deliver us...FUCK.

Texas Congressdoorstop Blake Farenthold blamed the troubles the GOP's Rube Goldberg Murder Machine, excuse me "Health Care Bill," keeps running into on those awful Lady Senators* who keep screwing things up with their legislatin' and not-babymakin' and whatnot. Hilariously, he insisted the disdainful womenfolk were from the dreaded Northeast, when in fact he was describing West Virginia's Shelley Moore Capito and Lisa Murkowski from...ahem...Alaska. Geography, like so much in America in 2017...is for cucks.

Anyhow, Fartenhard expressed that he'd like to settle the issue over a duel, which is a normal, adult response to being disagreed with. He insisted he was too gentlemanly to murder LADY senators with his musket, or maybe with the authentic Hattori Hanzo replica he picked up at ComiCon, but Jerry Moran better watch his punk ass!

He then retreated to his subreddit safe space where he whined about how
Flash Thompson wasn't white in the recent Spider-Man movie.

*The face Little Man Blake made when referring to "Female Senators" was indistinguishable from the one a four-year-old makes when lamenting the presence of "lima beans" on the dinner plate.

Meanwhile...DRUMPF SCREAMED DEATH DEATH DEATH AS TRUMPCARE DIES, at a speech earlier today, because, unable to understand, much less make the case for his bill, he fell back on his old standby, scaring the poo out of stupid white people. Dance with who brung ya, I suppose.

And now I guess MINO (that's STILL Maverick In Name Only) John McCain will ride onto the floor of the Senate on a horse paid for with taxpayer funds and valiantly vote to steal health care from millions. I really, REALLY want to think better of the man...I mean, how the FUCK can you stare down a cancer fight (I have to get real for a second here, folks...speaking from experience...cancer is horrifying, cancer is unrelenting, and yes, cancer is expensive, and if you can't afford to fight it, you don't have a fucking CHANCE.) that taxpayers will be financing, and then turn around and use your power to tell millions of your fellow citizens "sorry, shoulda been richer, fuck off, just DIE."...I don't understand how you can hold the Cancer in one hand and the ACA Repeal Vote in the other. I just fucking don't.

I dunno. Maybe he's scared Kelli Ward is going to get sick of waiting for him to die, and show up with a judiciously poisoned Tuna Helper casserole? Surprise us, Senator McCain. Please.


Everybody's favorite babyfaced Shartthrob, Jared Kushner, gave a little closed-door testimony today, and issued a little bullshit statement about how he barely collaborated even a little bit, and he's just a poor little rich boy who doesn't even read the collusion emails he gets, and just wanders into meetings with Russians without knowing what they're about. And also, if he forget about 100 foreign contacts and millions of dollars in assets, and an entire fucking BILLION DOLLARS IN DEBT on his security clearance forms, which happens to be an enormous fucking crime, well, I'M FUCKIN' THE PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER, SO WHAT'RE YOU GONNA DO, SEND A MEAN TWEET ABOUT IT, BITCH?

...and somewhere, Bob Mueller grinned, cracked his knuckles, and got back to work.

Kushner, who has been tasked by his father-in-law with a broad portfolio ranging from solving the opioid crisis to bringing peace to the Middle East to inventing Flubber in real life, seems to be leaning on the "I'm so dumb I eat with a Nerf fork" defense, which the right wing media is happy to run with. 6 months in, kiddies, and "blistering incompetence" is the best they've got. Gooooooooood luck.

Meanwhile Democrats unveiled their new It's the Economy, Dumbass, platform this afternoon. Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer assures us the platform going forward will be neither Namby nor Pamby, and certainly not both at once. Looks alright. We'll see.

And then I guess the Boy Scouts of America invited the Bastard Son of Gordon Gekko and Krang's Robot Body to speak at their Jamboree, so that all the kids could get their pussy-grabbing merit badge. Shit got creepy right quick, with Dorito Mussolini riffing on all the grievances that perpetually rage in his tiny reptile brain (instead of, you know, the issues the American People care about), shit like Fake Gnus and the electoral college and how Salma Hayek won't go out with him.

And he shit on his predecessor a little, to creepy "USA" chants from the juvenile crowd. It was like a little Shartler Youth rally. In a couple of years, instead of collecting canned goods, these kids'll be reporting you for thoughtcrime.

Aaaaaaand I guess the right wing media bubba-uhl is trying to destroy Jake Tapper tonight? Fuck all y'all. Diet Rambo is the fucking best. He is honest, and fair, and brave, and on the front fuckin' lines of this thing, I'm grateful as all get-out for the work he and his fellow journalists are doing in these batshit crazy times. When this is all done, they'll build a statue of Jake Tapper, only it'll also be a fountain, and it'll be pissing on a smaller, shittier statue of Sean Hannity.

Yeah, there's more. There's always fucking more. Shit, I'm even passing up an opportunity to shit on Jill Stein tonight, because I'm that fucking exhausted by the tornado-full-of-badgers-and-hammers that is the daily news cycle.

Get some sleep, Resisters. Let's give this Senate Health Care bill a swirlie tomorrow...and take its lunch money.



Things've been pretty goddamn nutty for a while now, but today was like if Sid and Marty Krofft directed a Jack Ryan movie set in a Yes album cover. If the goal here is to gaslight the whole country, it is motherfucking WORKING.

Let's start with the light stuff.

The Associated Press reports H.R. McMaster and other members of the national security team are having the damndest time preventing the Toddler-in-Chief from wandering off to have secret meetings with Putin, to give away state secrets or blow up Germany or who the fuck knows what. Maybe you should get him one of those child leashes, H.R.!

Yeah, that's what passes for "light stuff" these days, heaven help us all.

The Hollywood Reporter* tells us that Rupert Murdoch wanted Fox News to use their influence on the behalf of "anyone but Trump...even Hillary," during last year's election, marking the first time in your life when you really wish Rupert Frickin' Murdoch got what he wanted. Stopped clocks and all that.

*I know, right? We'll be reading about this shit in Cat Fancy and Lowrider before we're done.

I guess Sunny D-Bag broke with tradition in declining the NAACP's invitation to speak at their convention, presumably once Bannon told him what the "CP" stands for. (Drumpf has been hoping it was "Chocolate Pretzels," and that, as President, he would be entitled to a second helping of samples, and possibly also to meet Willy Wonka.)

Kris Kobach & his Kooky Kulling Komission got together yesterday, and Kris was all WE MAY NEVER KNOW if Hillary got 3 million more popular votes, even though we know it right now. "It's likely to remain one of life's great mysteries," Kobach said, "Like who won the World Series in 1985, or Are Pandas Real?"

Made in America Week continues to go swimmingly, as Carrier, that air conditioning manufacturer that Dorito Mussolini loves to brag about, laid off a few hundred workers to ship their jobs to Mexico. Oh, and Marm-a-Lago picked this week to ask for permission to hire 70 new foreign workers. Whoever's in charge of messaging for these clowns clearly deserves a bonus.

Exxon Mobil got slapped with a $2 million fine for violating sanctions against Russia while under the leadership of Russian Order of Friendship recipient/Current Secretary of State Rex Tillerson. Having the entire nation's diplomacy overseen by a dude who violated sanctions with a major rival is pretty normal, no matter what the LAMESTREAM MEDIA tells you, right? Anyhow, I bet this'll make Exxon think twice about ignoring sanctions for the sake of their billions and billions of dollars worth of oil development rights over there...I could be wrong, it's been awhile since I've had a math class.

Speaking of Russia and money, didja see that Paul Manfort just so happened to hold 17 million bucks worth of debt laundered through Cyprus and owed to pro-Russian interests right before he took over Shartboy's campaign, and amended the official GOP platform to ease up on all that Ukraine-related Russia punishment? There are so many wacky coincidences here, you'd feel your intelligence was being insulted if this weren't real life. (Manafort demanded a retraction; NYT responded by telling him to kiss their Dying Print Butthole.)

And then a late story from the Wall Street Journal says Mueller is investigating Paulie for possible money laundering. ZANY. BUT WILL TONY AND ANGELA EVER GET TOGETHER?

A whistleblower by the name of Joel Clement took to the pages of the Washington Post to sound the alarm that Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke wants in on some of that sweet administrative-state-dismantlin' action his buddies Rex n' Scotty are always talking about in the lunchroom. Zinke's transferring all those pesky scientists to new jobs outside their fields of expertise, sometimes to new states (at taxpayer expense, naturally) cuz you don't really need scientists when all you're about is figuring out ways to give national parks away to fossil fuel companies. Actually, I'm told they get kinda bitchy about that sort of thing. Off to the mines with them, then.

And then the Neanderthal grifters running Interior pulled a couple of climate change experts off a Mark Zuckerberg tour of Glacier National Park, because Science goes away if you shut your eyes real tight, cover your ears, and go "nahnahnahnahnah" real loud.

Yeah, the Shart Administration may be failing on countless fronts, but they're doing pretty well with their little War on Competence.

Anyhow, President Shartcannon decided it'd been awhile since he last had a peanut butter and bath salt sandwich and sat down to jabber at the Failing New York Times, so he made sure he had fresh bowl of poo to throw at the wall, and gave Maggie Haberman, Peter Baker, and Michael S. Schmidt a ring.

They talked about parades, and holding hands with boys, and imaginary media friends who said he gave the Best Speech Ever in Poland, and Napoleon, and...shit, this can't all be real, can it?..."giving the farmers back their farms," and...are we sure this wasn't Alec Baldwin?...how the gas attacks in Syria were bigger under Dumb Ol' Obama and how Comey tried to blackmail him with the pisshooker dossier and...and...I guess Rod Rosenstein can't be trusted cuz he's from Baltimore?...and...fuck, I can't read anymore of this shit, my brain will run screaming from my skull.

Oh, and he apparently thinks health insurance costs 12 bucks a year. Yup. Half a tank of gas, you get health insurance. Skip one latte every four months, get all the tumors you want, we'll remove 'em free of charge. You wonder if it ever occurs to him, in that walnut-sized brain, what the big fucking deal about health care is if you can get a lifetime's worth for the price of a 16th row seat to a Miley Cyrus concert. (Or, for that matter, how insurance companies stay open charging their customers less than Dunkin' Donuts charges for a stale cruller.)

The BIG headline was, of course, SCROTUS shitting all over his Loyal Huntin' Dawg, Beauregard, for recusing himself from the Russia investigation.

Yup, La Grande Sharte is 31 flavors of pissed off at Jeff Sessions. After all, he has been seriously derelict in his duties as Attorney General, which, as we all know, are covering up the President's crimes for him, up to and including personally destroying evidence, and also probably cutting his Presidential toenails every few months, once they start poking holes in his socks.

Despite being absolutely humiliated by his boss in the press, Sessions has refused to resign, partially because the last remnants of his spine liquified sometime last summer, and partially because goshdarnit, he's just havin' too much good old-fashioned country-boy FUN sending a fresh new generation of young men of color into the prison-industrial complex with his renewed War on Drugs.

Still, rumor is the President is considering sending Sessions to live on a farm, where he'll have plenty of space to run around and administer an asset forfeiture program among the chickens and cows.

And of course Il Douche did one of his patented plausible-deniability dances about firing Special Counsel Robert Mueller. He hinted that investigations into his personal finances would be an intolerable line to cross.

And then we found out that Mueller is indeed investigating Shart Garfunkel's personal finances, from the Miss Universe pageant to his shady oligarch real estate deals, to whether the change in the Oval Office sofa cushions is in rubles.

In the aftermath of their dirtbag boss throwing Sessions under a bus (and not just a regular bus, but like, a bus with monster truck wheels, with like, spikes on the tires and shit. Like, a fucking Mad Max bus), CNN reports a "chilling effect" among the President's staff.

Turns out, giving your loyalty to a rampaging criminal shitsack with a decades-long history of fucking other people over while protecting his own ass at any cost might not be the best career move. HUH. I for one am simply overwhelmed with sympathy for those colluding fucks. I'll send you cookies in jail.

Raisin cookies.

I guess at the G-20 summit, Akie Abe, Japan's First Lady, literally pretended she didn't speak English over the course of an entire two-hour dinner just to avoid talking to our Idiot Manchild President until he walked out of her life forever. I have never been more jealous of any human being in my entire fucking life.

John K Bush, a lunatic hate blogger who thinks World Net Daily is a news source, was confirmed to the 6th Circuit Court of Appeals today. Lifetime appointment. Barf. While it's funny as fuck to watch these assclowns flounder about in futile attempts to pass any legislation more significant than post office naming, they're still fucking up the judiciary, so, y'know...VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS.

On the health care front, we're getting CBO scores left and right these days. I found the CBO score for a dream Rand Paul had where he was riding a pink dinosaur while denying medical treatment to serfs. It would add 38 million to the rolls of the uninsured by 2033, many of which, the CBO admitted, would be eaten by Velociraptors. Mitch McConnell had a Jimmy Dean sausage biscuit for breakfast this morning that will increase the number of uninsured by 12 by 2018, and 29 by 2026.

Anyhow, they're voting next Tuesday, even though they don't know which version they're fucking voting on, some sort of monstrous Mr. Potato Head murder-and-tax-cuts bill. John Cornyn, a man I am told is somehow a United States Senator, says that telling the American people, or even the Senators voting, what's in a bill before voting on it is "a luxury we don't have." Because that's how the Founding Fathers always intended the American government to work.

Maybe they'll just agree to a resolution declaring Ted Cruz to be an asshole, and we can all fucking move on.

Meanwhile CNN tells us (man, we really heard from everybody today, didn't we?) that Kushner-family-owned companies are still using Jar-Jar's name and status to scare up Chinese investors. No word on what will happen to the Kushner brand once Jocular Jared is jailed.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand just when you thought it was safe to look away for a moment, you got hit with dueling Times/Post articles about the Candycorn Skidmark's legal team desperately attempting to remove or discredit Bob Mueller, because there's not a lot else you can do when your client is as fucking guilty as the one they've got.

I guess the best they can come up with is a few of the lawyers on Mueller's team made some donations to Democrats, and Mueller himself is a apparently orchestrating the entire fraudulent Russia scandal cuz of a years-old grudge over membership fees at a golf club? Hmmm. Methinks perhaps you're projecting your personal pettiness, pals.

Oh, and the word is Toupee Fiasco is putting out feelers as to whether or not he's allowed to pardon himself and his family, no big deal, asking for a friend.

Yeah. We've gone from "No collusion, and how dare you bring it up" to "Hey, I can pardon myself, right?" in, what? A week and a half? Is America great again yet?

And a couple of Drumpf's lawyers quit or were fired tonight. It never fucking stops, does it?

I know I probably missed some shit, there's always more these days, but forgive me, I already feel like I've been locked in a dryer for five hours with six cats. I need to do something to relax...like maybe an 8-ball.

Ruminations on failure, spell-checking, and, of course, madness

Well, today we were treated to a fresh installment of the Roving Holiday where we get to read dozens of columns, think pieces, finger-pointing interviews, and leak-fueled-behind-the-scenes reenactments about yet another colossal failure by Donald J Trump (The "J" stands for Emotionally Stunted Assclown) and the Washington Generals of politics, the McConnell/Ryan Republican Party.

After the latest attempt at his "Silly Plebes, Health Care is for Millionaires" Bill collapsed last night for being insufficiently murderous for the likes of Mike Lee and Rand Paul, Majority Leader Yertle pulled the old Straight Repeal and We'll Totally Replace Later, Wink Wink alternative out of his drawer. "Let's just do it, and be legends," McConnell allegedly shouted, before doing a Jell-O shot out of Roy Blunt's navel.

But that shitty plan fell apart before the daytime soaps were over, with Senators Murkowski, Collins and Moore turning McConnell over on his back, and laughing as he swayed from side to side in an attempt to right himself.

And now Rush Limbaugh is mad at all the Lady Senators for refusing this stimulus package for the funeral home industry, because they are Sluts for Librul Big Government Health Care and Also Not Wanting Their Constituents' Lives to be Nasty, Brutish and Short the Way God Intended It.

Anyway, the circular firing squad is, as per usual, absolutely fucking hilarious. Word is, instead of whipping votes for the Obama-shafting victory he is so pathetically desperate for, the Shart of the Deal had dinner not with persuadable fence-sitters, but with a group of solid yeses, and had no idea Moran and Lee were about shit in the succotash I am told was served. This is likely because he's a clownish figurehead that no one, not even members of his own party, respects or fears.

And overnight, Mitch McConnell has transformed from Nth-Level Political Grandmaster to That Jowly Dickhead Who Couldn't Pass the One Thing Republicans Have Been Promising For 8 Fucking Years. Ron Johnson pointedly wouldn't say he had faith in Gamara's Bastard Offspring's leadership abilities, strong words from a dude who needs interns to tie his neckties for him.

Desperate for an excuse to congratulate himself, Il Douche mused that the bill would have passed 48-4 if there were no such thing as Democrats. Now, even that probably isn't true, as more centrists would certainly have defected after the latest CBO score, but I have to say that watching him try to spin such a massively humiliating defeat as a super-impressive victory is...sexually arousing.

Tangerine Idi Amin was extra pissy already, because he had to certify that Iran was still complying with Dumb Ol' Obama's nuclear agreement. Because he's a perpetually-colicky man-baby motivated solely by undoing his predecessor's accomplishments because he was mean at the Correspondent's Dinner, he threw a tantrum for the better part of an hour about how he didn't WANNA certify the Iran deal, finally relenting when H.R. McMaster told him he could hire hookers to pee on Obama's favorite bushes in the Rose Garden.

And hey, we learned the identity of the mysterious "8th Man" in the meeting Kid Shart's been lying so hard about. Dude's name is Ike Kaveladze, and he's been implicated in laundering Russian oligarch money through real estate, which is a zany coincidence, because of all of the Russians who have bought real estate from the Drumpf family. By the time Mueller's done, I expect we'll learn the meeting was also attended by Nikita Khrushchev, Nikolai Volkoff, and Oddjob.

Oh, and the Hotel-Formerly-Known-as-Trump in Toronto finally scraped his shitty little name off their building, though tourists report a lingering smell of hair tonic and burger farts.

Shit, we're even reading about how much people hate SCROTUS on fucking GOLF WEBSITES now, as his course's hosting of the U.S. Women's open over the weekend seems to have driven down both ratings and live attendance. That's right, Shartboy, even your truest love, GOLF, fucking loathes you.

We learned a number of unsavory things about Steve Bannon from Joshua Green's new book. It seems Darth Wino called Paul Ryan a “limp-dick motherfucker who was born in a petri dish at the Heritage Foundation," which is not an altogether unfair description of the Speaker. Other fun factoids include Bannon's propensity for building nests made from his own saliva and copies of Bill O'Reilly novels in the corner of his office, and that he eats by vomiting a mixture of acid and cheap gin on his food to dissolve it, since his teeth rotted out decades ago from drinking paint thinner.

Dana Rohrabacher took a moment in a hearing today to ask a NASA scientist if...wait, this can't be right...if it's possible there was an ancient civilization, thousands of years ago...on...Mars? And, I guess, if maybe they were still around and had developed a trade with Earth scientists to supply them with child sex slaves in exchange for weather control technology, who the fuck knows? And seriously, WHO THE FUCK VOTES FOR THESE CLEARLY INSANE PEOPLE?

The Shart House announced Jon Huntsman as their choice for Ambassador to the Coolest and Sexxiest Country on Earth, Run By That Dreamy Bald Fellow Who Makes All the Other Presidents Swoon, I'm Talkin' About Russia, UNH. Of course, they didn't even manage to get Huntsman's name right in their announcement, because SPELL-CHECKING IS FOR CUCKS.

Oh, and Chris Christie got good and righteously booed when he caught a foul ball at the Mets game tonight, possibly the noblest act in the entire history of Mets fandom.

Aaaaaaaaand just for good measure, I guess we just found out that the Velveeta Urinal Cake had an undisclosed meeting with Daddy Vlad after a dinner at the G-20. But don't worry, he didn't have a single other American present, even a translator, and his administration didn't tell anyone about it until they got caught, as is their habit.

Nothing to worry about, I'm sure. They probably just talked about murdering journalists and destroying NATO. Y'know. Locker room talk.

And I guess Denny Hastert is out of jail? Fucking hell. I say it a lot, I know, but...shit be cray, people.

Monday Nite Madness Update

Well, I tell ya folks...six months into the daily debacle that is the Shart Regime, I must admit...I'm getting tired.

...TIRED OF WINNING! Just as I was getting home tonight, I saw that Mike "A Human Being Who Allegedly Enjoys Spending Time With Ted Cruz" Lee and Jerry "Mad With Power Now That People Have Noticed He's a Senator" Moran decided to torpedo the Rube Goldberg Murder Machine known as the Senate GOP Health Care Bill. (I know that's not what it's really called, fuck you, I'm drinking.)

Things already looked grim for Yertle's master-plan-to-make-sure-poor-people-never-get-to-meet-their-grandchildren, as John McCain needed to step away from the Senate for a week in order to recover from a medical procedure paid for by taxpayers, and thus would be unable to cast a vote stripping access to similarly lifesaving treatments from millions of his fellow citizens. I'm told this is humorously ironic, at least to those people who wouldn't die if McCain got the bill he wanted.

Meanwhile, Ron Johnson noticed that McConnell was promising one thing to conservatives and another, and may've even begun noticing that Mitch has absolutely zero respect for him whatsoever and expects him to shut his dumb tea party face and vote the party line. And that was a story for about ten minutes, until Mike n' Jerry popped up.


Ding Dong, the bill is dead!
Which old bill?
The Murder bill!

(As a fun side note, this means dozens of GOP Representatives are on the record voting for their own shitty bill, with its 17% approval, and now they get to face their districts next fall, without even getting a bill signed into law. HAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAAAAH. WINNING!)

Mitch now wants to bring up the House bill alongside a straight ACA repeal with a two year delay. This is likely to fail, allowing Mitch to finally move on to his true passion, recording a series of Yacht Rock covers of Jimi Hendrix songs. Excuse me, I meant "massive tax cuts for the wealthy."

Anyhow. This looks likely to fail, but let's get on the phones one more time and drive a stake through this fucker's heart, shall we?

Moving on, President Fat Q*Bert is actually rolling in victories these days! For example, a judge ruled (in response to a CREW lawsuit, if you're looking for a new organization to donate to) he must release visitor logs down at Marm-a-Lago, so we'll get to learn who his golf buddies are! Winning!

And if it's winning you're after, look no further than the polling! Why, just this weekend, Orange Julius Caesar won the prestigious Good Golly Miss Molly, Do We Ever Fucking Hate You Award, earning the lowest 6-month approval ratings in 70 years of polling. Because of his superior intellect, the President used his Twitter account to draw everyone's attention to the poll that said Seriously, We'd Rather All Have Mouth Herpes Than Have You as Our President, You Shart, You.

Further winning was achieved with the rollout of Made in America Week! Every media outlet on the planet gleefully reminded their audience how the entire Shart family makes their money off products that...waaaaaaaait for it...AREN'T MADE IN AMERICA! I look forward to Respect For Women Week, Keeping White Nationalists Out of Federal Government Week, and How to Look Sexy in White Golf Pants Week.

(Joking aside, SHARTUS actually earned his biggest win in months at the Made in America ceremony today...when he got to play in a fire truck! They let him sit behind the wheel n' everything! He prolly got ice cream after!)

Shit, Dorito Mussolini is winning so hard he's afraid to travel to England unless the Prime Minister can promise he'll get favorable press coverage there. In related news, I refuse to visit the Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame until they induct me.

Meanwhile, this morning Politico told us that the Marmalade Shartcannon continues to seethe at Arizona Republican Senator Jeff Flake, for all the mean-if-true things Flake said about him during the campaign. Word is, he's meeting with potential primary challengers, and even offering to put up millions of his own money to fund them (though, as various charities will tell you, don't write that money on your ledger in ink), because when you fail to pass a single piece of significant legislation in your fix six months in office, what's really important is filleting members of your own party.

If the GOP rank-and-file wanted in on some of that sweet winning action, they weren't disappointed! Turns out, the hard-earned money they sent Ol' Scrotumheart to make America great will instead be used to pay his idiot son's mushrooming legal fees.

He promised to work for you, and he's literally got YOU working for HIM. Nice work, O Ye of What I Am Repeatedly Told is Economic Anxiety.

(Hey Rubes, if you've got any extra cash burnin' a hole in your pocket, word is Probable Traitor Mike Flynn is setting up a fund for his own Holy-Shit-Am-I-Fucked legal defense. The first fifty donors to his kickstarter get to attend a dinner with his whackjob son, who will splatter you with saliva while raving about Pizzagate.)

And speaking of the Drone Army, it turns out only 45% of Drumpf voters believe that Shart, Jr. had a meeting with th'Russians...and this is after the dumb fuck not only admitted to the meeting but spent a week talking about nothing the meeting all day every day. After the whole fucking world spent the week talking about the meeting that everyone, even the administration, OBJECTIVELY AGREES TOOK PLACE.

I think I'm going into polling, just so I can sit down with these dipshits, and gape in horror as I uncover their beliefs. Expect results like: 41% of Drumpf voters are nunwilling to admit that horses exist, or, only 22% of Drumpkins believe that Lucky Charms are Magically Delicious, despite decades of scientific consensus.

Over the weekend, Scrotal Lawyer Jay Sekulow continued his policy of Making Ridiculous Shit Up in the Wild Hopes That Somebody, Somewhere Will Believe Him, saying "Hey, if Junior was treasoning so hard, why did the Secret Service let all those spies into the meeting, HUH?" The Secret Service, oddly less than eager to be implicated in a foreign power's assault on American democracy, wasted no time in saying "Look, Fuck-O, Junior wasn't under our protection and anyway it's our job to protect these assholes, not to babysit them."

By the way, Jay, if you want to make an enemy of the organization that has eyes and ears in all the rooms where your boy has been throwing tantrums and obstructing justice...I encourage you to proceed.

Kellyanne Conway took to the Sunday Shoz to praise her Bloat of a boss, for intervening to allow that Afghan girls' robotics team into the country, even though it was his own hateful, fear-mongering, travel ban that blocked their entrance in the first place. It's like she's playing a little game, trying to see just how much ridiculous shit she can say on teevee without being involuntarily committed.

As amusing as it's been watching this flock of rectums trip over themselves today, we must acknowledge that Team Shart continues to do serious damage to our great American experiment. Word is, Rex Tillerson wants to do away with State's war crimes office, cuz hey, as long as we're abdicating moral authority, what're a few genocides between trade partners, amiright?

Oh, and I guess President Not-at-All-a-Russian-Agent is about to give Uncle Vlad his spy compounds back so he can get back to spying on us from the spy compounds we're about to let him own and operate on American soil. Yay.

Anyway...shit remains absolutely nucking futz. And if it's too much to handle, I recommend you take a few deep breaths, maybe pour a glass of wine...and spend the rest of your day laughing at Ann Coulter over her ongoing air travel meltdown. It's Chicken Soup for the Resistor's Soul.

Shartboy in Paris, or Vive la Cray!

So, the Shart Administration likes their little theme weeks. "Infrastructure Week" and "Golf and Naptime Week" and "Jesus Christ Can't We Find Anyone on the Planet to Replace Reince Priebus Week." Today was "Let's Show the World What a Bunch of Bumbling, Brain-Dead, Malicious, Jagoffs We All Are" Day.

Kellyanne decided to get a head start on Hannity last night with her little flash cards, which is hilarious not only for the relentless parodying they earned on the internet, but because most Drumpf voters can't read in the first place.

Idiocy, after all, is central to defending Shart Junior's "Hey kid, wanna buy some treason?"/"BOY DO I!" troubles. Aw, he's just a KID, everyone's saying. He doesn't know what he's doing! How do you expect a 39-year-old manchild to know that colluding with a hostile foreign government is bad? Look at him! He's barely a functioning human being! He keeps licking Wilbur Ross because he thinks he's a lollipop!

Boss Shart himself keeps playing the Dumbass in the Dark card, telling anybody who'll listen that he just found out about the meeting his son, son-in-law, and campaign manager had with an alleged agent of a hostile foreign power when he read about it in the Failing New York Times over the weekend. But tonight, Yahoo tells us that Donnie's lawyers learned all this three weeks ago, from the Failing Jared Kushner.


Speaking of Jar-Jar, and also of the I'm-just-dumb-as-a-clump-of-dirt defense, having been nailed several times for failing to disclose meetings with foreign agents, he's amended his SF-86 national security form, cuz a few meetings may've slipped his mind the first time he filled it out, excuse me, "lied all over it assuming he's too rich to ever face consequences."

Hey, who hasn't forgotten a meeting here and there, right? Wait, what? He needed to amend it THREE times? Adding over a hundred names? Jesus Fuck.

Somehow this clown still has a high level security clearance, despite committing an offense that would earn any member of military a swift Court Martial. Shit, the House GOP even blocked a vote to strip him of it, because information security is only for Lady Secretaries of State when they're running for President.

The President's Loyal Huntin' Dawg, Beauregard, decided he wants in on some of this hawt above-the-law action! Responding to a court order to release details of his own campaign contacts with Ruskies, Ol' Beau decided to be all cutesy and release a mostly-blank sheet of paper. Sources tell me that, in addition, when a courier came for the document, Sessions briefly humped the courier's leg, before yapping loudly and incessantly until he was out of sight.

Whelp, the Marmalade Shartcannon went to Paris, France today! He stepped off the plane, and said, "By gum, before I head home, I'm gonna embarrass the shit out of every man, woman and child in America!" And for the first time, perhaps in his life, he kept his promise.

He ogled Emmanuel Macron's wife for a bit, like a pervert lurking in the bushes outside a sorority house, then tried to rip her arm off. He gave a little speech suggesting that most folks don't know France was our ally way back during the Revolution, leading America's fourth-graders to collectively facepalm while sighing "Christ, what an asshole." He probably tried to break into the Louvre to rub his ass on the paintings.

And I guess, on Air Force One, Toupee Fiasco was going a few rounds with the press corps, and casually suggested that his Big Dumb Wall be not only solar-powered, but...transparent. A see-through solar wall, because people throw big heavy bags of drugs over the wall, and...you want the people throwing the bags of drugs to make sure they don't hit anybody with their heavy drug bags?

I was 100% certain that story was Borowitz or something when I first saw it, but holy shit, here it is in WaPo. "An' the wall's gonna have a moat alongside it but, like, filled with LAVA, and there'll be alligators that can breathe lava that live in the moat, I'm using the money I'm cutting from Meals on Wheels to speed up the Lava Gator research, Bannon tells me we're real close."

Fake Doctor/Actual Nazi Sebastian Gorka popped up on CNN to defend his boss' I'm-not-a-Russian-agent-your-FACE-is-a-Russian-agent decision to reward Putin for attacking our democracy by returning the spy compounds we confiscated, literally saying "we want to give collaboration a chance," because Parody is dead.

Regrettably, Gorka once again escaped before Indiana Jones arrived at his location. One day, Sebastian...

YertleCare 2.0, Now With More Cruz! had its big unveiling today as well. Cruz' amendment holds with the belief the Founding Fathers held so near and dear, that All Men are Created Equal, Except Those With Preexisting Conditions, For They are Moochers and Takers and Should Have the Decency to Die Somewhere Where We Don't Have to Look at Them.

Susan Collins and Rand Paul hastily called dibs on the two free Nah votes, leaving half a dozen or so others deciding if they'd rather be held responsible for breaking the biggest, loudest, GOP promise of the last decade, or, y'know, the senseless mass murder of thousands of Americans in the name of letting the Koch brothers add to their collection of pillaged ancient Egyptian mummies.

Dean Heller has to go home and ask his dad. Murkowski, Capito, and Portman have to spend the weekend determining whether or not they've been sufficiently bribed. Even Cruz himself is conducting his own whip operation, threatening to spend time socially with any Republicans who oppose the bill.

Anyhow, we need to put this fucker to bed once and for all this weekend, so get on the phones, Resistors.

Marc Kasowitz, Chief Attorney to the Hairplug That Ate Decency, made his own headlines this evening, when ProPublica published an email where he loses his shit all over some dude who was actually giving him the best advice any human being ever gave another, namely QUIT WORKING FOR YOUR SEWER CLOG OF A CLIENT. Kasowitz apologized, and is reportedly struggling with alcoholism, but fuck him anyway for representing that assclown.

To provide a distinct counterpoint to all this humiliating, revolting, tragic, corruption and incompetence, Jimmy Carter required medical treatment today, because he was working his ass off in the hot sun building housing for the less privileged at 92 FUCKING YEARS OLD. Meanwhile the guy we're stuck with needs a golf cart to get through a parade.

I'm sure I've missed some stuff. We're up to our tits in bat guano, shit is so goddamn nucking futz these days. And fuck, the congressional hearings really heat up next week, so, you know...buy a helmet, folks.

PS....hang on...Peter Smith, the Republican Dirty Trickster from the WSJ story, who tried to collaborate with the Russians to get ahold of Hilldawg's emails...committed suicide? You are shitting me. You are absolutely shitting me.

I'd very much like to wake up now.

Hey folks, I'm a little tipsy, is shit still cray? Shit seems cray.

Friends, when you wake up to the news that a giant iceberg the size of Delaware has broken off from mainland Antarctica to roam the oceans, see the world, maybe record a freak-folk album...you know that shit is still all kindsa cray.

Early this morning, Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet tweeted out that nuh uh he doesn't watch the teevee all day, clearly responding to a story on cable news about how he watches cable news all day. Just in case you thought you weren't being governed by a nutty old coot who spends his time arguing with strangers he sees on the talkin' picture box.

The big story, of course, remains Skidmark Jr's Excellent Russian Collusion Adventure. Now, Junior's actions are completely indefensible, but godDAMN it's hilarious watching the gleeful collaborators on the right tie themselves in knots looking to excuse them.

Dad praised his boy's "transparency," in coming clean after lying for an entire fucking year, and specifically after two rounds of bullshit statements got debunked by the media just in the last weekend. Speaking only for myself, when I think of the heroic transparency of a dude that's been totally nailed to the wall and has no other alternatives, I get misty-eyed. It's like that prelude scene in UP, only instead of watching people fall in love and grow old together, it's the hideously corrupt family in charge of our government concocting ever less plausible excuses for their treasonous lawbreaking.

It's very moving, is what I'm saying.

Anyhow, Bloat Jr went searching for the softest interview possible. Word is, he was offered Nick News, but got worried they'd be too tough, so he settled on Hannity. Like a good little foot soldier, Sean lobbed a few softballs and declared the entire crook family fully vindicated forever, so I guess that story's over now. Just when it was getting good. Dang.

Even so, the Wall Street Journal tells us that the IC recorded conversations among Russian officials about Drumpf associates as early as 2015, which they're now leisurely flipping through, just for old time's sake, I bet. Just a little light scrapbooking.

Fox News Talking Haircut Jesse Watters suggested Kid Shart is the victim in all this, because literally the best anyone can come up with is that this 39-year-old man has the mental competence of a half-eaten cronut. Sources tell me Junior plans to appear before Mueller wearing a shirt that reads "2 Dumb 2 Collude," with his legal team will donning hats that say "I'm with stupid, also MAGA."

Shit, even Gowdy Doody finds himself "troubled" at the ever-expanding scandal! Not troubled enough to give his God Emperor the tiniest fraction of the Benghazi treatment, even to the tune of conducting the slightest bit of investigation, but troubled I tell you...TROUBLED!

Meanwhile every news outlet on the planet published an article about how everyone in the Shart House is screaming and throwing poo at each other, citing eleventy-five anonymous sources apiece. Reince Priebus even set up a bear trap outside Stephen Miller's office, using some Hair Club For Men product as bait.

(In one particularly disturbing side note, one of these articles, NYT if I remember right, mentions that some of these fucks suggested digging through the published history of the various journalists reporting on the Russia scandal, looking for mistakes and retractions to leak to friendly outlets in order to discredit them. Won't do a damn bit of good in the current situation because Junior released his own e-mails, but I don't think we should be surprised that these scumfucks will sink to any depths to cover their asses.)

Oh, and by the way, it's being reported that the initial statement Junior issued in response to the NYT story, y'know, the one that turned out to be total horseshit, was written by SCROTUS' staff and signed off on by Daddy himself. So yeah, that's a fat slice of cover-up with obstruction-of-justice frosting, and I'm trying to lose weight, but gimmie some of that. Unh.

Now, speaking of the shitpile Junior stepped in, wouldja believe that the lawyer he took Manafort and Jar-Jar to meet, Natalia Veselnitskaya, represents the family of a Russian oligarch who the Justice Department was investigating for money laundering on a fairly significant scale...at least until, two days before the scheduled trial, Jeff Sessions' DOJ suddenly decided to offer them an almost-too-good-to-be-true settlement. They admit no guilt, pay a slap-on-the-wrist fine, and go on doing whatever it is oligarchs do (Whittling? I honestly don't know). I swear, if this was a John Grisham novel, he'd have cut this bit because it's just too over the top.

I'm sure all of this is mere coincidence. So let's move on.

Today we learned that the State Department dropped fifteen grand at one of Il Douche's hotels, because while this administration recklessly blunders through seemingly all matters of policy, their grift game is ON FLEEK.

Speaking of Shart-o the Clown's hotels, I guess a bunch of guests' credit card numbers got hacked. Y'know what? Good. If you're still willing to give these bastards your business at this point, you deserve a bit of hassle. Fuck you.

I guess Morning Joe threw a little party for himself for being Principled and Brave and Special for finally, FINALLY quitting the GOP today, because while decades of sexism and racism were totes cool with Joe, being personally threatened by White House staff is apparently a bridge too far. They'll sing songs of this day for generations, I'm sure.

Chris Wray had his confirmation hearing in the Senate this morning. He was asked stuff like "Hey, how do you feel about campaigns collaborating with foreign adversaries?" and "Did SCROTUS make you pledge eternal loyalty before appointing you to head the FBI?" because these are the sorts of things we apparently need to know now, fucking hell.

Steve King, still seething that his scenes got cut from MISSISSIPPI BURNING, spewed some crap from the tooth-lined rectum he has instead of a mouth, about paying for the Big Dumb Wall with all the dirty Planned Parenthood whorebortion money. Because he's Steve King, and popping up every few weeks to say something disgusting is his job, or his hobby, or probably both.

Representative Brad Sherman filed Articles of Impeachment today, for Obstruction of Justice. Me, I say he should tack some tax cuts onto that bad boy, get some bipartisan support.

Betsy DeVos has some CONCERNS, y'all. She's worried about campus rape...as in, she's worried there might not be enough of it. Yep, the DeVostater is toying with rolling back some Obama-era federal guidelines designed to protect victims and accusers. She's meeting with Men's Rights Activists, who I guess feel empowered to crawl out of their moms' basements when they landed appointments with Cabinet officials...yay.

On top of that, Candice Jackson, acting assistant secretary for civil rights under DeVos, wrote an article claiming that a full 90% of campus sexual assault accusations were from drunken sluts who decided the dude they bonked wasn't hot enough the morning after or some shit, citing the prestigious Republican research firm of Shit I Want to Be True and Don't Care if it Isn't Also Joke's on You Cuz Right Wing Twitter Will Quote This as Gospel Now Just Cuz I Said It.

Oh, and the White House attacked the Congressional Budget office, releasing a video claiming the CBO scores of the recent House and Senate Plebe-Harvesting, excuse me, "health care" bills were inaccurate. The video misspelled the word "inaccurately," because of course it did.

President Shartcannon granted his first non-Fux Nooz interview in months to Withered Hate Raisin Pat Robertson. Hunched in his chair like a petulant grade-schooler in detention, Drumpf opined that the entire American intelligence community was wrong about Russia doing him an electoral solid, and that Uncle Vlad preferred Hilldawg anyhow because Drumpfy is a such a fearsome, widely-respected, certainly-not-mocked-all-around-the-globe fellow.

The Shart also took time to weigh in on last week's G-20 summit. "We had 20 countries," he proclaimed, beaming with self-regard. As embarrassing as that seems at first glance, let me remind everyone that one of the 20 economies in the G-20 is the European Union, so he's even fucking wrong about that. Can an entire nation feel shame?

Oh, and speaking of Faux Christians, a bunch of Evangelical "Pastors" took a grotesque pic in the Oval, laying hands on the Great Orange Pussy-Grabbing Lump and "praying." Reached for comment, Jesus said, "THOSE assholes?" threw up two middle fingers, made some fart noises, and rollerbladed away.

Anyhow, La Grande Sharte is off to Paris soon, a city which has, per the Associated Press, lost the esteem of his imaginary friend, Jim. God, I wish I was joking about any of this.

So I guess the House Appropriations committee introduced a funding bill that includes some cash for Shartboy's precious Big Dumb Wall. Now, this money has a snowball-in-Jim-Inhofe's-living-room's chance of ever finding its way into the final bill, but Donnie took immediately to Twitter for a victory lap, demonstrating once and for all that he lacks a third grader's understanding of the legislative process. Word is the Idiot Manchild President may be on board with a strategy of shutting down the government over the wall that the American people overwhelmingly don't want, I guess cuz he's worried his approval ratings are too high.

Ok. Well, it's late, and I'm at a bar, and I guess Kid Rock is running for the Senate? Fuck it, I can't cap this shit off with anything better than that. This post probably has more spelling and grammar errors than usual. You're welcome to fucking sue me.

Shit Be Cray, Jr.

Well, usually there's been a fair amount of insanity by this point of a Monday evening, but Fox News tells me that all everybody's talking about is Smallhands Magoo picking up a hat the wind knocked off of a marine's head, so I guess there's nothin' worth writing about, huh?

We learned that the Shart's immigration platform was written in part by commentator/author/Ghost of Klan Rallies Past Ann Coulter, isn't that nifty? Coulter later compared the document she'd co-scripted to the Magna Carta, because keeping brown people out of the country really is that important when you're a white supremacist. In unrelated news, I plan on surfacing in the comments to this post, proclaiming it to be like If the Guitar Solo in Purple Rain Were a Political Satire Post.

We also learned that Steve Bannon has an oil painting of himself dressed as Napoleon. Normally, this is the point where I'd make a joke, but I think this one stands on its own.

Luther Strange, appointed to fill Jeff Sessions' Senate seat upon his darkly comical ascension to the top of the Justice Department, and facing a tough GOP primary challenge, decided to take the Al Franken route to political victory. Strange admonished his fellow Senators to "work as hard as President Trump is working." BWAAAAAAAAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAH...I had no idea ol' Luther was such a cut up. I hear he has a Netflix special coming. It's like a Richard Spencer speech, but with dick jokes.

Speaking of the Justice Department, and I'm a little late on this, but there's a case down in Texas regarding your standard, Republican, massively-disenfranchising voter ID law. Under Obama, Justice was on the side of those challenging the law, but now that the President's Loyal Huntin' Dawg, Beauregard, is in charge, things've changed, and Justice stunned the world by striking their up-till-now-co-plaintiffs multiple times with a steel folding chair, leaving them writhing and bloodied on the courthouse floor before grabbing a mic and asking "WHATCHA GONNA DO, BROTHER, WHEN SESSIONSMANIA RUNS WILD ON YOOOOOOUUUUUUU????" and flexing before the bench for several minutes.

'Member how Il Douche came back from the G-20 summit with the brilliant idea to set up some sort of joint cyber-security task force with the, ahem, one nation on earth that's been consistently waging cyber attacks on the United States? Well, even after sending poor Steve Mnuchbag out on the shoz to defend this little stroke of genius, Drumpfy walked it back shortly after returning home from golf. My guess is Mad Dog Mattis whacked him in the nose with a rolled-up newspaper and told him "No! We don't share classified intelligence with the Russians! BAD PRESIDENT," and then rubbed his nose in the turd Bannon drunkenly left outside the Oval.

From the realm of the legitimately enraging, the news from Colorado is that American citizens are demanding to be dropped from the voting rolls rather than have their private information turned over to the Pence/Kobach Traveling Voter Suppression Extravaganza and Medicine Show. Folks, don't do this. Especially since Kobach and co. had to send out a "yeah, actually hold off on sending that information that nobody wants to send us anyway, turns out we're being sued." (Also, donate to EPIC and the ACLU to support their lawsuits, okay?)

God, I don't even know where to begin with the fuckin' Comey thing. So, Fux and Frenz followed up on a Hill report that some of Comey's Famous Chocolate Chip Memos contained classified information. Now, Fux n' Palz claimed that Comey LEAKED classified info, which isn't what the Hill story said, and doesn't seem to be true (Some Comey memos contained classified info, but not the ones Comey leaked to HIS And Friends, ya follow?). Anyhow, because our Idiot Manchild President thinks everything he sees on Fox is God's Own Truth Carved in Stone, he tweets out that Comey is a Leaker who Leaks all the Leaks and has broken all kinds of laws, and that shit is so far form being true that even Fux has issued a retraction, but don't worry, about twelve million rubes have scribbled it into the back of their family Bibles by now, the irreproachable truth of the Book of Shart.

(If I got any of that wrong, it's because it's exhaustingly fucking stupid. Sorry/not sorry.)

The Russia sanctions bill, passed by a holy-shit-these-people-can't-even-agree-that-puppies-are-cute bipartisan majority in the Senate, continues to languish in the House. And of course, Shart House officials are putting pressure on the House GOP to water the sanctions down as much as possible, which is exactly what a normal executive branch does when dealing with a hostile foreign power that attacked the nation, just like when FDR gave the famous "Day That Will Live in Bar Trivia, Maybe, But Prolly Not" speech to a joint session of Congress on December 8th, 1941.

The concepts of "Lack of Surprise" and "Weary Disappointment" collided at full force today, with the release of a poll revealing that a significant majority of Republicans think that higher education, that fucking COLLEGE, is a BAD THING. Seems like only yesterday Jim Inhofe was smugly bustin' out a snowball on the floor of the Senate, trying to nutpunch Science; I'm sure he shed the tears of a proud parent seeing that poll. There might be an argument that the modern Republican Party is something more than a mob of enraged idiots whipped up into a perpetual fury by a deceptive media bubble at the bidding of an oligarch donor class for the sole purpose of providing the votes for tax cuts that never benefit the idiots who back them...but it can't be a very good argument.

Meanwhile, a couple of the rabid dingoes of the Freedom Caucus, Mark Meadows and Mo Brooks, are makin' noises about forcing a government shutdown over Shart-o the Clown's Big Stupid Border Wall. God bless these lunatics. They've already dragged the entire House GOP into voting for the least popular possible configuration of the Poor-Folk-Mulching Act, excuse me, "Republican Health Care Bill," which will likely never become law, and which will be like an anchor wrapped around box of larger anchors come the midterms, but now they want to lead a shutdown if they don't get funding for the wall that the American people don't fucking want. Proceed, Jagoffs.

Oh, and Chris Christie, having chased himself out of politics through his petty, vindictive criminality, took a potential new career as a radio host for a test drive this afternoon. If Chris' destiny is to spend the rest of his life sitting in a chair, yelling at strangers who call in to hurl insults at him all day long...well, I think that'd make Dante chuckle.

Did I miss anything? Nah, I'm pretty sure that's about everyth-

Wait, what's this about Lil' Donnie Jr? Seems he had himself quite a festive lil' weekend!

Sooooo...like a cat with an unusually stupid mouse, the Failing New York Times backed Shart Jr into a corner, and has been fucking with him for their own amusement since Saturday.

First, story was, Junior met with a Russian lawyer connected with the Kremlin. Brought Manafort and Jar-Jar along. Everybody forgot/lied about it for months. Pretty suspicious. But the story they spun was "Oh, it was about orphans, no biggie."


Sunday. NYT tells us, "Oh hey, that meeting? Turns out Junior went into it because he was told there'd be Russians there who had some nasty nasty dirt on a certain Hilldawg." Oooooooo. MUCH more suspicious.

And the spin gets a little lamer..."Well...maybe I went to the meeting looking for dirt on HRC from a foreign agent, but I didn't get any, IT'S NOT COLLUSION IF YOU DON'T SUCCEED AT COLLUDING, RIGHT?"

And then tonight, NYT's batting their eyes, all coquettish and shit, and suddenly they let us know that Junior was sent an email saying "This is literally the Russian Government trying to help your dad become President because Hillary Clinton is tough as nails and thinking about her running America makes Putin curl up in the fetal position and cry himself to sleep."

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's collusion with a foreign government. And the Shart House can't muster a denial, just a weak-ass statement that somehow the candidate didn't find out about any of this, even though it was a meeting attended by his campaign manager, his son-in-law, and his eldest fucking son, until he read about it...

...on the homepage of the Failing New York Times.

Now, the source for all this shit, according to NYT, is fucking currently-serving White House officials, so God only knows what the fuck is going on here. Is Jared trying to cover his own ass? Is Stephen Miller trying to get adopted by the God Emperor? Is this Eric's big play to finally get his own bedroom?

Anyhow, Kid Shart finally lawyered up. Hired...a mob lawyer, because you want an experienced professional when you're about to go on trial for treason.

I don't fucking know, folks, what I DO know is...


But yeah, everybody's talking about a hat.

Y'ask me, this is all a big ruse to distract from the fact that it's apparently now impossible to be a gluten-free Catholic. WHAT THE FUCK, THE POPE?

PS...wait, what? A late-breaking story says Jar-Jar and Darth Wino reached out to the Blackwater Jag (Betsy DeVos' brother, don'tcha know) to come up with an alternate strategy for Afghanistan? Are you fucking shitting me? I am getting too old for this shit.

Mid-day Madness Check-In:

Well, at this point I really am quite certain I'm plugged into the Matrix and the news is being fed directly into my brain by an alien bug robot that is also an aspiring espionage novelist. If, however, all of this garbage is actually happening, then it must be said that shit, as has previously been noted, be cray.

So, Rachel Maddow tapped the country on the shoulder the other night. "Hey guess what," Maddow announced, "Somebody tried feeding me, and possibly other news organizations, elaborately forged national security documents in the hopes that we'd report them as real, in order to then discredit us as Fake Gnus, thus undercutting our reporting on all things great and small." Whether this doc was planted by a member of the Shart Administration or Auric Goldfinger is unclear at this time.

But folks, this is some serious John Clancy shit, right? I imagine Stephen Miller bought himself a catsuit to wear while he sat in office all night, alternatively forging his little document and yanking it to anime porn. He's probably wearing the catsuit right now. Under his suit. Smiling to himself.

Perhaps inspired by these efforts, a grassroots Real Murican apparently vandalized an elementary school with fake anti-Drumpf messages, in order to frame the mean ol' libtards who are always vandalizing elementary schools except not this one because it was YOU, DUMBASS as clearly captured by the security camera that Dr. False Graffiti Flag didn't notice. Truly, stupid is as stupid does.

The Director of the Office of Government Ethics turned in his resignation, cuz the current administration thinks ethics are only for Presidents that win the popular vote or some shit. It seems this flock of assholes negotiated their own, custom-built ethics agreements, on the back of a strip club cocktail napkin, which I imagine means any woman who finds herself alone with Mike Pence is automatically deported, and Steve Bannon's allowed to drink the blood of human children in the West Wing so long as he cleans the carpet afterwards.

Anyhow, Littlefinger awoke in Hamburg, fresh and invigorated, ready to represent America's interests at the G-20 summit!

HAHAHA I won't pretend that fooled you. Nah, he rolled out of bed, surly from the nightly torment where he dreams he is a man with hands the size of other men's, and rage-tweeted some nonsense about John Podesta and the DNC server, demonstrating simultaneously his ongoing obsession with HRC, and that he still doesn't understand the difference between the CIA and the FBI, despite having been President of the United States longer than all but 5 living human beings. He probably doesn't even know where the bathrooms are, I bet Reince has to clean his Oval Office chair six or seven times a day.

While I'm certain the Failing New York Times has dispatched reporters to burnt-out manufacturing towns to confirm that there are folks who do indeed believe the most powerful leaders on the planet gathered to gossip about Podesta and emails and such, John himself was all "Why the FUCK are you still on this, man? You're the President, and you have a mildly important job this week! EYES ON THE BALL, TWIT."

(Lil' Donnie, unmoved, sent another text to Dan Coates, once again asking him to use CIA resources to assassinate Salma Hayek for refusing to date him. Or maybe the FBI. Where do the ninjas work? We have ninjas, right?)

Well, the Marmalade Shartcannon finally had his big meet-up with Uncle Vlad, and he greeted him with greater warmth and respect that he's shown our nation's oldest, strongest allies. He called it an "honor," shook his hand, patted his back, and briefly considered gently grinding for a few minutes before catching Rex Tillerson's stern "Now, we talked about this, wait 'till the cameras are gone" look.

The meeting, scheduled for just half an hour, apparently took, a day and half or something, as every news organization on earth breathlessly reported. (Seriously...you're getting push notifications all day that say "Yup. Still in there." Only Rex knows for sure, but my sources say the bulk of the meeting involved Putin insisting the American President first do the Truffle Shuffle as a precondition for discussing anything relating to Ukraine, with Donnie crying for an undisclosed length of time before finally acquiescing after Melania brought him a carton of chocolate milk.

The Shart of the Deal was quick to declare victory, having emerged with a cease-fire agreement for a corner of Syria slightly larger than the Mall of America, and all he had to give in return was total capitulation on the issue of Russia attacking our democracy, which they will surely do again, cackling at the spectacular, comical, weakness/incompetence/crippling personal insecurity of our commander-in-chief.

Oh, and I guess he agreed to open a cybersecurity "bilateral working group" with the country that's been waging cyber attacks on the country he's, coughcough, FUCKING PRESIDENT OF, which is...well, different. It's a bit like giving Josh Duggar the keys to a day-care center.

But hey, Shartboy and his Boss enjoyed a wicked little laugh at the expense of the members of the press who "insulted" poor lil' Drumpfy-Poo. No worries, just the leader of the greatest democracy in human history chuckling alongside a petty thug who has journalists murdered. The far-away, longing look in his eyes told you the Jim Acosta voodoo doll that Bannon had made for him was going to get quite the workout later.

Oh, and, because they're better at this than Team Shart is, the Russians got out in front of the story in the media, bragging about how Moby Dickwad accepted Vlad's denials over the thorough assessments of his own intelligence agencies. A full day later, as I write this, nobody from the White House has substantially disputed this narrative. Unsurprisingly, the Russian media is mostly just pointing and laughing at us.

Meanwhile Russia is suspected of hacking a bunch of our Nuclear Plants (on the eve of the Putin/Drumpf summit, just to remind everyone who's in charge), and CNN tells us that the State Department keeps issuing visas to Russian intelligence agents even as Don the Con is doing all he can to water down sanctions and give Vlad his spy compounds back. He keeps telling anyone who'll listen that he thinks maybe someone other than Russia did some hacking too, we don't know, has anybody asked the Maldives what they were up that dark and stormy night, even as Jolly Jim Clapper is out on the teevee saying "NO, IT WAS ONLY RUSSIA, YOU WAD OF CUD."

By the way, did I see that these clowns actually forgot to book a hotel in Hamburg? Good lord, the people running the country aren't even smart enough to put FIND SLEEP PLACE on their checklist when traveling abroad? Somebody needs to check the nuclear missile silos right fucking now.

Meanwhile, like a spoiled toddler playing carelessly with his neighbor's toys, Little Sharty Boo-Boo tantrumed his way around the meeting, trying start a trade war, I guess over steel imports.

"C'mon, let's start a trade war against China, guys! GUYS?" the Drumpfling bellows. "Go away Donnie, we're talking about climate change," the others say, annoyed. Finally, Emmanuel Macron finds a lingerie catalogue to distract the Manbaby while the grown-ups talk about grown-up things.

Trumpal Attorney Marc Kasowitz is trying to get a former Apprentice contestant's lawsuit thrown out in court, because he thinks being President is an automatic Get Out of Sexual Harassment Suits Free Card (it's not), and also if a guy goes a little nuts and defames you from the stump while he's running for President, hey, that's just how these things work, you filthy disgusting lying tramp-whore. Kasowitz seems nice, doesn't he? Kind of fellah you'd like to drink a glass of bleach with.

The Senate GOP's Rube Goldberg Murder Machine, excuse me "Health Care Bill," keeps running into walls like Steve Bannon after he's finished his morning bowl of Cocoa Puffs But With Gin Instead of Milk. Everybody's all "Hey guys, I would rather get health care and live longer than give great big fat fucking tax cuts to multimillionaires," because they are takers and cucks, but I guess any old serf can vote in this country, so even Republicans have to pay some attention to the poors...FOR NOW. (Kris Kobach and a team of henchmen cackle ominously somewhere in the distance.)

Even Jerry "Hawley Griffin" Moran is enjoying the attention that comes with being the random McConnell foot solider opposing the bill. "The spotlight's finally on me, see, and Jerry Moran is a man who understands that opportunity doesn't knock twice!" the Sunflower State Senator proclaimed, before producing a hooked cane, seemingly from nowhere, and launching into an elaborate tap routine set to a medley of George M Cohan classics.

Ted Cruz and his bloodthirsty bud, Mike Lee, want MORE senseless death, but even Chuck Grassley of all people is suddenly all "there might be a bit too much death in this bill, and I'm a man who has been known to pass a Sunday afternoon listening to the moans of cancer patients as they expire once their lifetime coverage limits have been reached."

Anyhow, resistance is working here, folks. Stay on them phones.

See that thing where the GOP Twitter account tried to call out HRC for not having a health care plan? Children, Hilldwag might not be good at crafting slogans that fit on made-in-China baseball caps, but policy she can do from a unicycle on a tightrope. Juggling knives. Above a pit full of hungry badgers.

So she said "Here's my plan, right on my website where I left it a year an a half ago, feel free to use it, enjoy hiding from your constituents for a year and a half, wankers!" and then she rode off on a Harley to do donuts on Paul Ryan's lawn.

You'll be pleased to learn that a number of GOP Congressgrifters, including Jim "Frosty the Snow Legistlator" Inhofe, are purchasing stock in health care companies, merrily enriching themselves as they craft legislation designed to steal health care from millions of us. Is America great again yet?

Back to the G-20, other nations seem happy to step into the leadership void our mush-brained chief executive insists on opening. They're working around and against us, negotiating new trade deals without us, promising swift retaliation to any trade war shenanigans, and counting down to January 2021, when they can resume the old positive relationship with American President Dwayne Johnson.

Meanwhile SCROTUS plopped his ass right next to President Enrique Peña Nieto of Mexico and once again insisted he'll get them to pay for the big stupid border wall that'll never ever ever ever get built, because it makes him feel tuff and important. Sigh.

Oh, and I guess there was another round of military exercise posturing near the North/South Korean border late last night. Because two insecure lunatics measuring cocks is how international relations works now.

Anyhow, I guess Dorito Mussolini decided he hadn't embarrassed the country quite enough on his trip, and so he sent his daughter to fill in for him at a meeting of heads of state, because she is a Princess, and I'm sorry but your low-stamina President is napping, because the job is too much for him. Oh, and literally every other country at the meeting issued a statement on climate change while Don the Con insisted on tacking on a paragraph at the end that reads "Nuh-UH!" in purple crayon, and I'm pretty much telling people I'm Canadian from here on out.

And of course there's more. Mike Pence is touching things he shouldn't (sorry, Mother) and Rick Perry's failing Econ 101 and Kobach's little voter suppression panel is already getting sued, but hey, what do you expect in the Yoyo Dodo cartoon we all live in now?
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