TheFerret
TheFerret's JournalRuminations on Orrin's Last Wad
Things get quiet when the Velveeta Urinal Cake goes on vacation, don't they?
...a little TOO quiet, if you ask m- (JUMP SCARE as Sean Spicer leaps from bushes, cradling a contraband mini-fridge!)
Yes, things may seem, at first glance, a little calmer than usual, but if you poke around the edges, you'll find that...shit remains...cray.
I mean, Mummified Salem Witch Trials Judge Orrin Hatch is stumbling around talking about the Shooting of Wads, for chrissakes! Let's check in with the madness, campers...
Arizona Senator Jeff Flake is out on a book tour, lamenting the descent of the Republican Party into a bunch of demented, dishonest, spineless, cowards like...Jeff Flake! Yeah the dude who votes for everything Dummp wants is working on a rebrand where he's not just a craven servant to a historically shameful regime, but a craven servant to a historically shameful regime who periodically says "tsk tsk." Good luck in the midterms, Jeff.
Oh, and Team Shart apparently wants to do away with an Obama-era rule that allows nursing home residents to sue for neglect and abuse. That's really happening. In real life. The President of the United States doesn't want your grandma to have legal rights if she's abused by the people she pays to take care of her.
Like, Lex Luthor is over in the corner, looking at this shit, going "Whoa. DICK MOVE, GUYS." How can these shitbags get any more villainous? Mandatory head lice in public schools? Maybe just Stephen Miller eating puppies for twenty minutes every press briefing?
I'm starting to think this Trump fellow isn't very nice.
Anyway. Norman Lear let everybody know that he'll be skipping the Shart House reception after the Kennedy Center Awards (where he's being honored this year), because he possesses basic human decency and why would anyone want to lend their light to a dirtbag like Il Douche?
Alan Dershowitz popped up over the weekend to talk about what a raw deal Bashful Bob Mueller's giving the Tangelo Tumor in impanelling his Grand Funk Juryailroad in Washington D.C., where so many people are liberal and, coughcoughBlack.
I don't think you need to worry, Al. After all, I keep hearing about how totally and completely not-even-a-wee-bit-racist Drumpkins is, right? Why, it only took a few weeks worth of media pressure to get him to denounce David Duke that one time! C'mon, be fair! There're only like, half a dozen or so white nationalists in high-level executive branch positions! HOW CAN YOU SUGGEST THAT AN ETHNICALLY DIVERSE GRAND JURY WOULD BE UNFAIR TO HIM?
Anyhow, D.C. is where the laws're being broken, so D.C.'s where the impanellin' is done. Them's the rules. Sorry we couldn't do it at a Ted Nugent concert, chumps.
Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel launched a counteroffensive on Jeff Sessions' War to Reclaim America For Shitty White People, suing over Ol' Beauregard's attempt to strip "sanctuary cities" of federal funding. Personally, I think Rahm and Beau should settle this thing INSIDE A STEEL CAGE, but I suppose the courts will do.
Oh, and I guess Number Two got caught playing the Game of Thrones, eh? The Failing New York Times dropped a bomb over the weekend about how Lil' Man Pence is sneaking around behind Boss Shart's back, courtin' donors for when the Esident-pray gets im-eached-pay.
Pence issued a suitably obsequious denial, saying "No, no, I was just hanging out with all those billionaires to talk about how normal your hands are, and how much legislation you've signed, and how much Salma Hayek wants to date you," but you know Shartboy's huddling with Bannon to see about replacing his Veep with Scott Baio.
Hey, we should congratulate Overgroomed Spokesdemon Kayleigh McEnany for suddenly getting All the Jobs! Yes, Kayleigh left her post lying to America on CNN to lie more directly to America on a new, not-at-all-V-for-Vendetta-esque SharTV media outlet! Plus, she's now the official Spokesmonster for the whole dang RNC! Shit, she'll probably be the next Homeland Security Secretary!
In more serious news, Resistors...I'm worried. I'm worried that Dorito Mussolini may have finally figured out how to turn things around, and get America to love him in spite of his many, many (MANY) flaws.
Yes, even with the plummeting approval ratings, the broken promises, the non-existent manufacturing and mining jobs, the sexual assault accusations, the lack of legislative accomplishments, the humiliating health care defeat, the understaffed government, the brazen fraud, the shameless grifting, the embarrassingly-too-long-neckties, the failures upon failures upon failures, he's finally struck the mother lode.
You see, he's tweeting insults at Connecticut Senator Richard Blumenthal. All fucking day long.
And as any fool can tell you, dislike of Connecticut Senator Richard Blumenthal registers as THE leading issue with American voters of every creed and color. From the most venerable matriarch to the freshest newborn babe, it is the burning hatred of Connecticut Senator Richard Blumenthal that unites us. It is an issue more potent than national security or jobs or even ethics in gaming journalism. More than apple pie, the Stars n' Stripes, or Stone Cold Steve Austin knockin' back beers on the top turnbuckle...shitting on Connecticut Senator Richard Blumenthal is WHAT MAKES US FUCKING AMERICAN.
Seriously though, I love me some Blumenthal. That Vietnam thing wasn't cool, but watching the five-time draft-dodger point that (unusually tiny) finger is fucking hilarious.
The Rat-Feces-Infested Circus Peanut further ragetweeted that the mainstream media didn't pay attention to the UN Security Council passing new sanctions on North Korea...at the precise moment Jake Tapper was covering the story on CNN. It's sort of sad, really.
It's difficult not to mention that our tough-on-terror President has plenty of time to throw poo at a Senator he doesn't like, but has not one fucking word to say about the actual terrorist attack that took place on American soil. Because...well, because he's the moral equivalent of truck stop toilet clogged with an adult diaper.
After months of insulting and alienating our oldest and most loyal allies, Team Shart sent the Inspector Clouseau of Statecraft, Rex Tillerson, to the Philippines to make nice with Rodrigo Duterte, a petty thug who literally brags about committing murder. No doubt future generations will re-enact the American Secretary of State kissing a murderous autocrat's ass in 4th of July pageants for centuries to come.
The unrelenting taint jackhammer that is Polling continues the ritual bludgeoning of the Presidential grundle. You KNOW shit's bad when even Kellyanne can't spin it.
CNN released a particularly brutal poll this evening. Approval's down, disapproval's up, "strong approval" has dwindled to basically just creepy old guys who watch high school volleyball games and Bill O'Reilly's imaginary friend. Nobody likes him, nobody trusts him, everybody's embarrassed by him...no wonder Pence is walking around with his hat out.
See? Slow news day. Barely worth mentioning. Anyway, I'm late for a tea party with a talking bunny. Thanks for reading, and never ever forget...VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS!
Happy Impanelling Day, Everyone!
There's no fucking way all this shit happened since the last time I wrote one of these. It's been like, 23 hours. One short American day, and it's like a 13th Floor Elevators record fucked a Mark Leyner novel. WHAT THE LIVING FUCK IS GOING ON IN MY BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY.
We greeted the morning, sun-kissed and dew-fresh, with the Velveeta Merkin's latest twitter tantrum, raging at Congress for bringing relations with Russia to an "all-time & very dangerous low." You guys, Vlad won't even let Lil' Donnie come over to play Duck Hunt, and he's got the zapper gun and everything!
Yep, the American President, who didn't get mad when his intelligence services told him that Russia had attacked our democracy, and planned to keep on doing so in the future, pitched a fit when Congress passed sanctions designed to punish them, and, y'know...PROTECT THE FUCKING COUNTRY HE'S FUCKING PRESIDENT OF. MURICA FIRST!
And then we were treated to leaks of some transcripts of phone calls with foreign leaders from Drumpfy's salad days (taco bowl days?) as the most powerful human on earth, when he still had a spring in his jackbooted step, full of youthful dreams of autocracy and using the U.S. treasury as his personal petty cash drawer.
You read these transcripts, they make you go, "Holy FUCK, this guy couldn't pass a third grade social studies test!" Makes you wonder how much of John Kelly's day is spent tying the President's shoes and intercepting him before he runs into glass doors, doesn't it?
My personal favorite bit was where the Shart of the Deal begged Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto to please please please not embarrass him by telling the press Mexico would never ever pay for his Big Stupid Wall. He threatened and whined and eventually even begged before walking away with...the polar opposite of what he wanted.
I just don't understand how this veritable God of Negotiation didn't get a health care bill done.
He also got caught saying he won New Hampshire (which Hillary Clinton won, by the way), because it's a "drug-infested den." I'd like to just take a moment to thank Dorito Mussolini for taking those 4 electoral votes off the table for 2020.
Indiana Jones' shittiest nemesis, Seb Gorka, went on Fux Nooz to peddle the somewhat novel theory that his boss will be able to pressure China to reign in North Korea with...the awesome power of his mighty Twitter feed!
Yes, Sebastian, I'm sure the spittle-drenched ravings of a septuagenarian toddler can move mountains. Good thing Shartboy wasn't the President in Independence Day, he'd be out there futilely mashing his childlike fingers all over his smartphone, ten minutes later the whole human race would be reduced to some sort of nutritional paste.
H.R. McMaster and John Kelly have been sweeping some of the frothier nutjobs out of important national security jobs, and the alt-right is mad...der than usual. McMaster certainly didn't make any new friends in the Infowars corner of the internet when he cleared Susan Rice of any wrongdoing in the faux unmasking "scandal." To be fair, he's probably a globalist lizard person.
Bat-Poo-Covered Propagandist Sean Hannity is taking this...poorly. And of course the basement-dwelling wing of the Drumpf movement keeps things predictably classy.
As you can see, it was kind of a slow news day. I mean, I think I saw something about Robert Mueller impanelling a grand jury in D.C., and I think maybe Sarah Huckabee Sanders got a pet rock for her office, but otherwise it --
Ok, maybe that news was pretty big. Hope so. Hope it lands like a comet right in the middle of the Pile of Sphincters currently polluting our executive branch, an extinction-level event that wipes Drumpfism from our county for all time, leaving nothing but Steve Bannon's fossilized liver for future generations to study.
Yes, Rugged Robert impaneled the shit out of that grand jury, right in Washington D.C. (Admit it, you didn't know "impanel" was a word before today, did you? I sure fuckin' didn't. Seen it so much these last four hours it's probably gonna be my first kid's middle name.) Word is the subpeonas are already rolling out for folks connected to Shithead Jr's Excellent Adoption, excuse me, Collaboration Adventure.
Yeah, this means subpoenas for documents and testimony. It means this Flock of Rectums has to testify under oath. It means Boisterous Bob and his team of Crack Ambidextrous Ninja Cake Boss Lawyers (Though I'm still waiting for them to hire a demolitions expert. Gotta have a demolitions expert.), whatever they've found, have seen enough to keep digging. It means Jared Kushner's going through six pairs of underpants per day.
It means these assholes are in some serious shit. It means this gang of cheap crooks, who lie like most folks breathe, are finally about to get marched into the room where lying is a prosecutable crime.
And just to grind the boot that stomped so firmly down on the Trumpal scrotum, CNN reports that Mueller's probe has expanded beyond collusion and obstruction to whatever financial crimes happen to turn up during the investigation.
Now, Sharton Fink claimed this was a "red line" whose crossing he wouldn't tolerate, but Mueller's jurisdiction is clear. Personally, I'm picturing the first day of the impeachment trial, with the President raging from the witness stand as Mueller calmly, quietly, unbuttons his shirt, revealing his torso to be covered in the incriminating tax returns Littlefinger tried so desperately to bury.
The CNN story also says the investigations have turned up communications regarding attempted collusion on the part of Russian agents, which mentioned somebody named...Manafort, or something? I feel like I've seen that name someplace.
Anyway, John Kelly locked the President in a crate in a corner of the Oval Office until he promised to be a good boy and not try to fire Mueller.
Apparently the Secret Service vacated their command center in Drumpf Dower? Because this Assclown was trying to grift a little more cash out of the organization employed to protect him and his family? Christ on Melba Toast, how the fuck is this real life?
(Of course, one can't help but wonder if these crooks might not be wild about the inescapable presence of subpoena-susceptible secret service agents while they're busy with all their treason and collusion and what have you.)
Oh, and Mike Flynn popped up to revise his disclosure forms again, this time revealing a role with a Mercer-backed data analytics firm being investigated for...you guessed it, potential collusion with Russia.
It's kind of fun, watching these bastards squirm as they keep getting caught in lie after lie. Six months from now, Steve Bannon'll be amending forms because he forgot about that THIRD intern's corpse webbed up in the corner of his hive-like West Wing office.
West Virginia governor Jim Justice decided to switch parties, leaving the Democrats to join the Republicans at the Candycorn Skidmark's rally tonight. You gotta admire the political instincts of a dude who waits until a guy's approval ratings hit 33% before rushing to stand beside him. Double-J's like a guy who moves to Pompeii ten minutes after he sees the volcano erupt. Far be it from me to judge.
At the rally, Shart Garfunkel proudly proclaimed "there were no Russians in our campaign," because the bar is lowering at warp speed these days. By the way, even that isn't true, as everyone who remembers Boris Epshteyn will tell you.
Amusingly, Pumpkin Spice Goebbels waited until tonight's rally, a week after his health care bill died like Collateral Beauty at the box office, to encourage his supporters to call their Senators to support it. Not since Lyndon Johnson has such mastery of legislative process been witnessed.
Speaking of, on the way out the door for their August recess, the Senate announced a series of pro-forma sessions, to prevent Smallhands Magoo from replacing Jeff Sessions with Omarosa or whatever other manic whim might cross his hair-tonic-addled brain. Really, nice job with all those tweets going after Senators in your own party, genius.
Speaking of the recess, I wish Yertle and his team nothing but the best as they spend the next few weeks explaining to their constituents, "Hey, yeah, we totally tried to murder a whole bunch of y'all, but the good news is, we're such a bunch of clown-like fuck-ups, we couldn't get it done!"
And while I hate to wrap up on a down note, it appears that Sean Spicer has turned down Dancing With the Stars, boooo. Producers allegedly tempted Spicey by offering him the chance to perform the traditional "Dance of the Seven Bushes," but the recently deposed press secretary wants to confine himself to private humiliations, at least for the near term.
Before I sign off for the evening, I do need to issue an apology to you, readers. I overlooked the story about Tangerine Idi Amin turning down the opportunity to play the President in a Sharknado movie because he decided he'd much rather fuck shit up for realz, and if crap like that slips through the cracks, what the fuck am I even doing here?
Anyhow, I'm gonna go sit in the corner of my padded cell and smear poems about my shame on the walls. In my own feces, of course. What else can one do when shit is this goddamn insane?
The White House is a Dump and the Statue of Liberty is Wrong and George Washington was CUCK, y'all.
Hey everybody. Are you like me? Are you contemplating installing windshield wipers on your eyelids to keep the never-ending hurricane of batguano from pelting you into blindness?
It's understandable. Now more than ever before...shit be cray. Let's dig in.
While the Shart Administration struggled to stay on message during "Made in America Week" and "Infrastructure Week," "Whites Only Week" is going swimmingly!
Yes, with his approval ratings in the crapper, and his dreams of shafting Obama by repealing his signature health care legislation crashing and burning like Stephen Miller at a singles bar, Misshapen Traffic Cone/Improbable American President Donald J. Trump (The "J" stands for "Failure"
has decided to get back to the one thing he does well: telling shitty white folks that brown people are fucking up their lives, and isn't that a machete-wielding undocumented immigrant leering in your living room window right now?
Apparently the Justice Department wants to rearrange some resources to finally address the scourge of discrimination in college admissions...against white people!
Yessir, Jeff Sessions wants you to know that even if you're a malicious, walnut-brained goon, you can grow up to be Attorney General of the Whole Dang United States...so long as you're white! Ol' Beauregard wants to inspire the rage-filled, basement-dwelling mediocrities of today to become oppressive drug warriors of tomorrow! I hear he's offering an internship program where high school bullies can spend their summers helping southern cops pretend to smell marijuana during traffic stops so they can seize poor minorities' assets.
Now, Justice denies this, and considering this administration's established track record for honesty, I think we should treat that denial appropriately. Don't forget to flush when you're done.
And of course the Anthropomorphic Outhouse signed onto a Tom Cotton/David Perdue bill that would cut legal immigration in half, breaking yet another campaign promise, in order to placate the Richard Spencer crowd. (The half that still gets to come in can wash dishes at Marm-a-Lago, of course.)
The NAACP issued a travel advisory for, not a dangerous foreign country, but fucking MISSOURI in reaction to the recently-passed law increasing the burden of proof for cases of discrimination based on protected classes like race or gender. What wondrous times we live in. It's like whole swaths of America get to operate as 50's-themed amusement parks. Kids, tell your parents to take you to JimCrowLand! Five dollars off admission with a Chick-fil-A wrapper!
Anyway. We're getting all kinds of stories about new Chief of Staff John Kelly whippin' the Shart House into shape, aren't we? Word is, Il Douche is paying attention in meetings now, and -
Hold up. Is this, finally, what we've come to, not even 200 days in? The President, rather than chewing on paste and sending unsolicited dick pics to instagram celebrities, is PAYING ATTENTION TO HIS JOB SOMETIMES.
Is this the mountain we're so proud to climb now? Is this what American Exceptionalism has settled for? We won two World Wars. We put a man on the ever-lovin' MOON. We made Frankie Muniz a millionaire.
But now, the thing we're supposed to feel good about is that President Turdweasel sat still for half an hour. EVERYBODY STAND UP AND SING TOBY KEITH SONGS WITH TEARS IN THE EYES RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND, GODDAMMIT.
While I'm not entirely comfortable with all the military personnel occupying positions of power, at least we're getting some welcome news in the form of the batshittier members of the National Security team getting kicked to the curb.
Ezra Cohen-Watnick, the scumfuck who collaborated with Devin "Pigfucker" Nunes to fabricate support for Shartboy's claim that Obama was tapping his phones and microwaves and tooth fillings, got fired tonight. YAY.
Some lunatic named Rich Higgins also got cut, for writing and circulating a paranoid memo arguing that a coalition of Islamists and Leftist Deep Staters and Pastry Chefs and Floating Little Fat People were constantly conspiring to undermine Drumpfy-Poo. Great that he's gone, more than passingly horrifying that he was in government in the first place.
Anyhow, there are fewer lunatic Breitbart Bannonites making our national security decisions, and that, at least, is good gnus. And we found out that Kelly and Secretary of Defense Mattis made a pact to split SCROTAL babysitting duties between them, so the Idiot Manchild President can't start a nuclear war just because Kellyanne let his diaper fill up, so that's good. I think.
Anyhow, getting back to the pathetic stuff:
President Shartcannon got caught making up two phone calls, one with the President of Mexico, one with the Boy Scouts of America, in which they allegedly heaped praise on him for his deft speechifyin', and his entirely non-freakish finger length.
Also, Donnie Darko decided to avoid the humiliation of a veto override, and signed the Russian sanctions bill. Now, that might not sound like big news to you, but imagine if YOU had to walk into YOUR boss' office and announce you'd signed off on sanctioning HIM. Not so funny now, is it. IS IT?!?! (Yes, it is.)
To rub a little salt in the wound, Russian Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev tweeted at Smallhands Magoo, mocking him for getting cucked so hard by Democracy and the legislature and whatnot. Doesn't it help you sleep better, knowing that foreign adversaries know that they can undermine our democracy by getting under our President's millimeter-thin skin? Someday Putin will suggest Nancy Pelosi impugned Drumpf's sexual capacity, and then we'll be in the shit for real.
Speaking of Russia, Rex Tillerson is apparently declining funds allocated to combat Russian disinformation, because...because Fuck American Democracy, I'm a Muthafuckin' Plutocraaaaaaat!! or something. Shit, why should the Secretary of State do anything to protect the country he serves, amiright?
Rex is also playing around with dropping the promotion of Democracy from State's Mission Statement. Thank all the heavens that the second-place popular vote finisher ushered in a new American age, where our nation doesn't even stand for fucking DEMOCRACY anymore. We'll be great again any minute now, I can feel it.
Oh, and hey, I guess Dorito Mussolini tells his golf buddies that he hates staying at the White House, because it's such a "dump!" Just fills your heart with patriotic pride, doesn't it? Remember when the right got on Obama for failing to wear a sufficiently large flag pin? Fun times, those.
Paul Ryan cut a little fanfic video for Boss Shart's Big Stupid Wall, because he's spineless and obsequious and apparently worried that there might be somebody, somewhere in America, who still respects him.
And I guess Dancing With the Stars Reject Rick Perry is being considered for the freshly-vacated Homeland Security Secretary post? Jesus fucking Christ. Remember when he didn't know his current job entailed overseeing our nuclear arsenal? I'm sitting here imaging what this clown doesn't know about DHS, and it makes me want to build a motherfucking fallout shelter.
Apparently Shartolo Colon decided to take a stab at Uncle Vlad's state-run media shtick, with his daughter-in-law hosting a little facebook session airing the usual grievances about the mainstream media and what have you. If America chooses to collectively sit at the foot of a human being who would voluntarily share their life with Eric Trump, well, I suppose we deserve what we get.
The polls continue to serve as a regular taint-jackhammer to the Hairplug That Ate Decency. He hit 33% in Q today, and even non-college-educated whites are starting to catch on to the con. Tick tock, campers...the day when we all get to VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS rapidly approacheth.
We got a special treat at the press briefing this afternoon, as Malevolent Forehead Demon Stephen Miller took the stage!
Miller, somehow an avowed white supremacist despite spending his whole life being, y'know...STEPHEN MILLER, touted the ridiculously racist Cotton/Perdue bill that has zero chance of actually becoming law, because when you can't accomplish things, talking about the things you'd like to do is about as close to Winning as you can get.
One of the fun things about Miller is his incredulous bitchiness when confronted by anyone who suggests his personal, insecurity-driven racism is anything less than universally-accepted truth. He screeched at Glenn Thrush for showing a little basic humanity, and he REALLY lost his shit at Jim Acosta, quickly taking sides against THE STATUE OF FUCKING LIBERTY because it is a Cuck Statue that should be giving the finger instead of holding a torch, and instead of Emma Lazarus' poem it should have Ann Coulter's latest ragetweet, and then he screamed for twenty minutes about how he is a white man and he should be treated like a king instead of having to pay $200 and also wear a bag over his head just to get a woman to hug him.
Anyhow. Then Sarah Huckabee Sanders came out to defend her boss for lying about compliments from the Boy Scouts, because that's what we do now, I guess. She did invite a kid to the White House, to meet...the groundskeeper. Because the President is too busy golfing with oligarchs to meet you, ya little piece of shit.
And I guess Yertle's gonna start the August recess a little early this year, cuz they can't accomplish anything anyway, so why spend more time with Ted Cruz? I feel that, actually.
The Daily Beast reports that back in the once-upon-a-time days of Shart-O's attempted travel ban, his DHS ordered its employees to stonewall immigration lawyers and members of congress.
Horrifying. But I tell ya, Resisters...when I think back to that genuinely terrifying would-be power grab, and how we stood up, as a nation, and said FUCK NO...I'm proud of us. If they'd have gotten away with what they were trying to get away with that day...God only knows where we'd be today. But they didn't.
And now the Vatican is laying the smack down on faux-Catholic shitsacks for making an "alliance of hate" with the Shart Regime? Daaaaaaaamn. Party at my place for Bannon's excommunication, kids.
There's more, I know. This post is like, seven inches too long, and I didn't even get to everything. That's how deep into Arkham we all are these days. And tomorrow, you'll wake up, grab your phone, and there'll be a push notification from CNN announcing that the President declared war on Rohan or some shit.
Whatever. Bring it. COME AT ME, NEWS!
Alas, Poor Mooch...
Well, shit. Kind of a slow news day, huh?
Yeah, I seriously scanned my notes, thought, “slow day, I might not even post tonight.” A day like this would’ve made newspapers spontaneously combust in any other administration of my lifetime, but it struck me, for a moment, as almost not interesting enough to comment on.
Standards…they change, do they not?
The Shart of the Deal threw himself a little Twitter tantrum over the weekend, targeting Senators in his own party, bitching about their inability to heartlessly toss millions of citizens off the rolls of the insured, calling them “total fools” and “quitters” and “pathetic losers that Salma Hayek refuses to date,” not that he’s ever projecting when he criticizes people.
He sent Mick Mulvaney out to suggest that the Senate shouldn’t do anything else, pass no budgets, raise no debt ceilings, name nary a Post Office, until they deliver the Obama-shafting triumph that Il Douche is so very desperate for. “I only even RAN for President because a black guy laughed at me!” tantrumed the Shart, pitching his ice cream at the wall, “When do I get to repeal something Obama diiiiiiiiid?”
The President then sobbed for a bit, crapped his pants, and finally curled up for a nap in Steve Bannon’s office, on the couch that smells like gin.
Senators responded to SCROTUS’ demands with a rousing “Nah,” because nobody respects or fears his comically ineffectual White House anymore, which is pretty typical for six months in, right?
Aging detective novel murderer Orrin Hatch even gave an interview saying “Jesus Fuck, have you MET the Senate Republican caucus? Tell you what, YOU sit in a room with Ted Cruz and Rand Paul for ten minutes without killing yourself, let alone figuring out complex policy shit. Fuck you man, I miss Ted Kennedy,” before punching himself in the temple until he passed out.
(How bad is it for Team Shart? Shit, even cartoonishly-Republican-leaning Rasmussen Reports has his approval/disapproval at 39/61 today, with a paltry 26% strongly approving. Given Ras’ conservative bias, that means Drumpf’s actual support is down to just gun store owners, Uncles Who Don’t Get Invited to Thanksgiving Anymore, and That One Gym Teacher Who Got Fired For Putting a Camera in the Locker Room.)
Paul Ryan took a few shots of his own, saying his House of Representatives is the only arm of government that’s working, I guess because they passed a shit bill with 17% approval that will annihilate his majority and end his speakership in a year and half, despite never ever ever becoming law. LEADERSHIP!
Oh hell, didja see that thing where a bunch of the lying, thieving, murdering, scumfucks in the Shittiest Cabinet Ever have themselves a little Bible study group? For fuck’s sake, if it’s not these dirtbags gathered in a circle, quaking in fear over their own rapidly-approaching damnation, they must be working from a different Bible than the one I remember from Sunday school. Seriously…Sessions, Perry, Pruitt, DeVos, Perdue, Price and Pompeo? Hope they meet in a lightning-proof room.
Oh, I see that America’s Toughest Sheriff, excuse me, Surliest Jagoff, Joe Arpaio went and got himself convicted of criminal contempt! Arizona Joe faces up to six months in prison, no word on whether he’ll be forced to serve it wearing pink panties in the blazing sun. Me, I think six months locked in a Lollapalooza outhouse oughtta reform the old fucker. Couldn’t happen to a nastier old fuckhead, so congrats!
And speaking of shitty things happening to shitty people, the Mooch got canned, before he could even lay claim to Sean Spicer’s contraband mini-fridge! One minute you’re sweeping rivals out of the White House, giddily preparing to manipulate the Idiot Manchild Occupying the Oval Office for your own ends, the next you’re divorced, unemployed, and the single most mocked man in America! Life comes atcha FAST, amiright?
Mooch’s defenestration allegedly came at the behest of shiny new Chief of Staff, John Kelly. CNN celebrated Kelly’s swearing-in by publishing a report claiming he almost resigned over Jazzy Jim Comey’s firing. I bet that’ll make his new boss super-happy, and that they’ll go on to pass tons of legislation together, and make America great, and that Dorito Mussolini will never, ever, EVER throw his new toy general under the bus, because he’s changed now, and he really loves you, John.
Foreign Policy tells us that Jared Kushner is leaning HARD into the how-could-we-have-colluded-look-how-fucking-stupid-we-are-I-stabbed-myself-in-the-face-six-times-just-trying-to-eat-a-salad defense. While I don’t expect this to work in the end, to his credit Jar-Jar plays the Massive Blundering Dumbass part convincingly enough to earn De Niro’s envy.
Jeff Flake, Junior Senator from Arizona, decided to escalate his war with the Marmalade Shartcannon, throwing down the gauntlet in a Politico editorial. Now, smarter folks than me are saying “Hey, words are kewl, Jeff, but what’re you gonna DO?” but considering Shartboy has already threatened to finance a primary challenger for Flake, this is certainly a subplot worth following. Is this posturing, or is the GOP finally starting to seriously turn on the Anthropomorphic Outhouse? Time will tell.
What’s this now? A late-breaking WaPo story sez that Shart Jr’s initial statement responding to the Failing New York Times’ story about his meeting with all those Russians and their anti-Hilldawg intel (you remember, the one that turned out to weapons-grade horseshit?) was personally dictated by Toupee Fiasco himself.
Now, ME, if I were under investigation for obstruction of justice, I’d probably be a little more careful about, y’know…OBSTRUCTING JUSTICE, but then I am not a freakishly-tiny-fingered, too-long-tie-wearing, bloated rectal tumor of a human being, so what do I know?
Aaaaaand, just when you think you’re done laughing at the clowns for the day, along comes Jake Tapper with an encore. Diet Rambo reports that a British digital prankster, a veritable e-Pagliacci* tricked a number of Shart House officials into believing s/he was other Shart House officials, because we are being governed by the dumbest fucks walking the fucking planet. Jon Huntsman, Eric Trump, Homeland Security Advisor Tom Bossert, and the dearly departed Mooch were among the puddin’-headed victims. I’m sure these people can handle North Korea. Sleep tight.
And Corey Lewandowski got fired. That’s nice. Did you get fired today? No? See, you’re having a better day than Lewandowski or Scaramucci. You deserve a cupcake. With sprinkles.
I’m sure I missed some shit. It was a slow news day, I let my guard down. Did I see Jill Stein made an ass of herself? Fuck it, I’m going to bed. Maybe I can Rip Van Winkle this shit, wake up when the lunacy has passed…
…like I’d be that lucky. Anyhow. VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS. Shower Cap out.
* That’s just about the highfalutinest joke I could ever hope to make. Tip your waitstaff.
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.
FUCK.
Anyhow. So where're we at with the DIE, PEASANTS, DIE!!!, excuse me, "Health Care" bill?
Well, the John McCain Who Speaks made his heroic return to the floor of the Senate yesterday, delivering a rousing speech denouncing partisanship and calling for a return to regular order!
Little did the John McCain Who Speaks know that the John McCain Who Votes had just cast his (decisive) ballot to open debate on a bill developed outside of regular order, one that deliberately shut out all input from the Democratic Party!
The John McCain Who Speaks pounded the podium and boldly declared he would never vote the bill being considered, at least not without substantial changes! Six hours later, the John McCain Who Votes voted for the bill with no changes whatsoever!
One of these days the John McCain Who Speaks and the John McCain Who Votes are going to meet face to face, and thumb-wrestle for supremacy. Until then, the John McCain Who Speaks will continue to deceive cable news personalities into pretending the John McCain Who Votes doesn't exist.
(Meanwhile Mazie Hirono, who is also battling cancer, keeps fighting to actually PROTECT health care for her fellow Americans. Mazie Hirono is the hero John McCain pretends to be, and people should talk about that more.)
Anyhow, the state of the health care debate in the Senate today is...theatre. Everybody's voting on bills they know have no chance of becoming law, waiting for Mitch McConnell to stitch some monstrosity together, march it out to the floor, make it dance to Puttin' on the Ritz, and see if it can get 50 votes.
Meanwhile Jeff Merkley keeps introducing amendments to slow shit down and get the GOP on the record opposing Puppies and Hugs and Basic Human Decency. Dean Heller offered a symbolic amendment pledging that Medicaid be protected, which he imagines will count for something when he eventually votes for a bill that guts Medicaid.
And so apparently it all boils down to "skinny repeal," which is like "repeal" with a sugar-free syrup, maybe? Nobody knows for sure, but the skinny is (get it? GET IT?!?!?!?) that it'll entail repealing the individual and employer mandates, which every rational expert tells us will strip coverage from millions and blow up the insurance markets, but FUCK, Y'ALL, Mitch McConnell wants to be remembered as a motherfuckin' COWBOY, so let's Wild Bunch this shit, bros!
I don't know what the fuck is going to happen, but let's all call our Senators and say "Hey, howzabout you don't kill us?" and hope for the fuckin' best. I think we're gonna need to get out in the streets over this, Resisters.
Also, because the media can't stop shitting in our lemonade by asking the shambling hordes of mouth-breathing Drumpf supporters what they think about things, we were treated to the knowledge that almost half of his voters believe that he won the popular vote last November. Digging a little deeper into the cross tabs, we learn that 32% of Shart voters assume network television broadcasts subliminal anti-God messaging, that 44% think hand-dryers in public restrooms harness the power of Satan, and that a full 82% believe the Moon is a glow-in-the-dark frisbee their neighbors hang from a tree in the backyard to fuck with their heads.
Word is, recently deposed punching bag Sean Spicer had a bunch of meetings today with all the big news companies. I imagine he was pitching a show called "The Spice Rack," a cooking program where he verbally describes baking a cake while he obviously makes spaghetti sauce. FOOD NETWORK GASLIGHTING, BITCHES!!!!!
And now I guess Sam Brownback, fresh off a couple terms worth of burning down the majestic Kansas wheat fields and blowing up the Yellow Brick road, is getting a promotion to be some kind of Roving Faux Christian Ambassador/Scold, keeping with the current regime's animating theme of Mediocre White Dudes Failing Upwards. Only in the Republican Party do they reward cataclysmic failure so generously.
And...what the fuck did Jeff Sessions do now? I JUST STEPPED ASIDE FOR TEN MINUTES TO TAKE A DUMP, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?
Nope, it's real. The Justice Department of the United States of America, led by the Last Confederate, Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III, stood in court today, and argued that civil rights law doesn't grant protections to gay workers. Dooooooj isn't even a party in the case. They just knocked on the door, said "excuse me, can I borrow a cup of jagoff? Also, gay people don't have rights."
Can you imagine having a soul as tiny and withered as Jeff Sessions? Seeing the writing on the wall, knowing your political career is weeks, even days away from being ended in disgrace by the very raging obscenity you yourself enabled, and saying "By gum, if I'm going down, I'm doing everything I can to roll back the hard-won rights of my fellow citizens before I go!"
If...IF Jeff Sessions has a soul, it's shaped like the maggots that feast on roadkill. Specifically the ones that gravitate towards the lower intestines. Yeah, that's Jeff Sessions, alright...a maggot devouring a mostly-smashed raccoon rectum on Highway 90.
Oh, and what's this? Tangerine Idi Amin indulged in a little Mt. Rushmore fantasy? Tell you what, bro...we'll carve your name on the toilet seat in the gift shop.
As per usual, the day's news has bludgeoned my cranium like an avalanche of rabid, wrench-wielding honey badgers. In the not-at-all-unlikely scenario where my brain runs, screaming, from my skull as I sleep tonight, and I'm no longer around to write these reaps...remember, Shower Cap sez...VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS!!!!
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.
Anyhow.
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.
DEMS SCREAM DEATH AS SHIT BE CRAY
FUCK, Y'ALL.
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.
Anyhow:
Ding Dong, the bill is dead!
Which old bill?
The Murder bill!
DING DONG THE MURDER BILL IS DEAAAAAAAD.
(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.
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