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TheFerret

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Member since: Fri Mar 24, 2017, 06:48 PM
Number of posts: 364

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Cohen Confesses and Gaetz Gets Gelded While the Second Summit Super Sucks: A Roundup (Ferret/SC)

Yeah, I'm a little late this week. Your Friendly Neighborhood Shower Cap turned 40 a couple days back, so frankly, it's a miracle I sobered up long enough to even find my computer. Oh hell, and it's a long one tonight. Expect typos, is what I'm telling you.

(As usual, you can find this post on Cap's blog site. It'll make a bit more sense with all the links n’ shit: http://showercapblog.com/cohen-confesses-and-gaetz-gets-gelded-while-the-second-summit-super-sucks-a-roundup/)

Bad news for Roger Stone's pal Andrew Miller, as an appeals court ruled that Rugged Robert Mueller's investigation is totally constitutional, so Andy can expect a very constitutional boot up his ass any day now. You'll be plucking amendments out of your stool for days, fuck-o.

Princess Ivanka, whose life's work has consisted mainly of manufacturing cheap crap that nobody wants using daddy's money and stolen designs, has some thoughts on the dignity of work, SUCK IT, SHERROD BROWN. I didn't watch the whole interview, but I think she said something about rewarding the servants who bear her palanquin with extra-fancy specialty pet food, if only on holidays.

In the midst of this truly hectic week, I was delighted to return to the hotel one evening to find the most delectable schadenfreude bonbon on my pillow; Jacob Wohl, that poor man's James O'Keefe*, has been permanently banned from Twitter. Considering Jacob is famous solely for being a sycophantic dumbass on Twitter, this is pretty much the Useless MAGA Chump version of amputating Jimmy Page's hands.

Well, Michael Cohen finally debuted his highly anticipated cabaret act, “Torch Songs and Crimes the President Told me to Commit” before the House Oversight Committee, and the Q&A session that followed was, as the kids say, lit.

Yes, the Fascist Farthuffer's Former Fixer confirmed, under oath, what we learned months ago at his sentencing, namely that the President of the United States has committed honey bunches of crimes, and by the way here are the documents to prove it. The rest of the hearing featured the Democrats on the committee attempting to learn the full extent of those crimes while the Republicans acted like a single, hydra-headed, mob attorney, because now that they lack the power to cut rich people's taxes any further, their only remaining purpose is to facilitate the Trump Cabal's corruption.

But just to make my dutiful sacrifice to God of Bothsidesism, I do think Dems really missed a golden opportunity here, to like, ask Cohen to confirm some shocking detail with a quick, “Says who?” and then Mike would go, “Says me! And also this secret recording I took.”

I tell you what though, when Republicans send their Congressjags to the Oversight Committee, they're not sending their best. Or...dear God, what if they are? What if Clay Higgins, who honestly believes he tricked Cohen into revealing the existence of a secret cache of documents he'd hidden from an FBI raid, really is the brightest mind the GOP has to offer?

They seemed particularly incensed that Cohen was pursuing a book deal, which, they say, would only feed the scourge of reading.

But even as we struggle to learn the extent of the criminal conspiracy operating out of the White House, we must not lose track of the true victim here: Mark Meadows’ feelings. Rashida Tlaib called Mark out for the racism of the Sad Tokenism Theatre he attempted in trotting out Trump's One Black Friend to twirl for the cameras, and he quickly melted down into a puddle of quivering Well I Never self-righteous defensiveness.

Meadows would surely still be merrily shuttling from stop to stop on the Conservative Media Victimhood Circuit, clutching any and all available pearls till they were crushed to atoms, whining about the unjustness of the accusation, had not the inevitable video of his gleefully racist attack on President Obama surfaced in precisely the amount of time you figured it would, which is to say immediately.

Still, you must confess Meadows’ gambit permanently dispelled all questions of Trump's racism. As we all know, the handbook clearly states that for every one (1) black employee, you are entitled to baselessly call for any five (5) persons of color to be executed by the state for crimes they did not commit.

Other earth-shattering news from the Cohen hearing: Don Junior is dumb! Ok, maybe it's not news, but boy, if you're so fucking dumb that a dude who surrounds himself with weapons-grade idiots like Ben Carson and Rick Perry thinks you’re dumb...woo. That's I-need-Cliff-Notes-to-get-through-a-Larry-the-Cable-Guy-routine dumb.

Plus there's all sortsa fun new plot lines to follow now. Potential insurance fraud? Fine, throw it on the investigation pile! New witnesses to subpoena and depose, including a guy with the Sopranos-by-way-of-SpongeBob monicker “Matthew Calamari?” Why the fuck not? All I really want at this point is for a weary Elijah Cummings to turn to a colleague and remark, “We're gonna need a bigger Oversight Committee.”

Oh, and I guess one part of Cohen's thug portfolio involved threatening Donnie Dotard's old colleges into keeping his grades secret? What a treasure trove those college records must be...my sources tell me he once submitted a five-page essay on how the lime green crayon is the best crayon because it's pretty even though it doesn't really taste like limes.

Before we move on from the Cohen Cavalcade of Cooperation and Corroboration, we should note that Mike has, rather unsurprisingly, been disbarred. Luckily, he'll soon have Florida Congresstwerp Matt Gaetz to keep him company! Gaetz seems to have been competing in some sort of “what the douchiest possible way to illegally intimidate a witness” contest, but at least he covered his tracks by posting his crime publicly on Twitter. I guess Matty figured he'd rather be a SCROTUS stooge than a lawyer. Heh. I bet that pays off for ya, kid. Donnie's notoriously loyal, after all. Just ask Mike Cohen.

Anyway, it sure feels good to be Democrat these days, doesn't it? Now that the rule of law is a partisan issue, you can't help strut a bit when you think about how your party isn't the one that's been reduced to a pack of docile enablers for an organized crime family. But hey, if you really wanna feel some swagger, lemme ask you this: what has more than 120 million thumbs and just got the first major piece of gun control legislation in a generation through the House? THIS PARTY.

Also, Matt Whitaker, who you may recall briefly guest-starred as Acting Attorney General after Jeff Sessions left the cast over creative differences, is under investigation by the House Judiciary Committee for possibly perjuring himself regarding his dirtbag boss’ justice-obsructin’ ways. Hey kids, while you've got him under oath, I'll bet those toilets weren't unusually “masculine,” either.

I see the Influence-Peddling Feeding Frenzy known as the Trump inaugural committee earned yet another subpoena this week. That's SDNY, and AGs from D.C. and New Jersey, if you're keeping track. This has been today's installment of Scandals That Are Bigger Than Anything That Happened During the Entire Obama Administration But Don't Even Merit Front Page Coverage in This Shitshow.

Looks like McRae Dowless is joining the less-exclusive-by-the-day Republican Shitweasels in Jail Society, facing charges for various acts of fuckery in his campaign to steal the North Carolina 9th for “Pastor” Mark Harris. Don't forget there's a new election coming up there, campers, and we've got a great candidate, Dan McCready, who could really use your help. Unless you want this cartoonish dipshit to win.

Only Nixon could go to China, and only Little Donnie Two-Scoops could go to Vietnam to be utterly, thoroughly, perfectly, cucked by a ten-cent autocratic thug like Kim Jong-un. For the second consecutive time.

That Kim, who rules over a kingdom of gravel and toenail clippings, can run laps around the supposed leader of the free world has every Washington and Lincoln on every 1 or 5 dollar bill in my wallet weeping tears of blood. I don't know what we expected, the Shart of the Deal walked in with the shittiest imaginable poker face, so desperate for a win that he walked back verification demands before even sitting down. Of course, it would all prove worth it when the summit got cut short early without one fucking thing getting accomplished.

And even though his groveling yielded nothing at all, even less than the empty promises of the last “summit,” Weehands McNodick wasn't quite done humiliating his nation. He lavished the murderous dictator with praise, even letting him off the hook for the death of American citizen Otto Warmbier, enraging Otto's grieving parents and causing the Statue of Liberty to resign her post in shame. Kim probably could have shown Donnie the cell where they tortured the poor kid to death, and he'd have gone on Hannity to praise the decor.

And then...THEN, and I swear I'm not making this up, Hairplug Himmler went and cancelled joint military exercises with South Korea anyway! Dude, he's just not that into you! You're never getting into Kim's silos, ok?

If Fat Q*Bert was looking for some sort of snickeringly on-the-nose visual metaphor for his clogged-toilet-overflowing-with-the-turds-of-failure week, he sure got it, in the form of the demolition of the sad, lonely, prototypes for the Big Dumb Wall That Will Never Ever Ever Get Built. A fitting monument to his reign.

Alas, we need to step back from pointing and laughing at President Used Enema Water's Spectacular Carnival of Failure to note that coal lobbyist Andrew Wheeler, whose blood type is black lung disease, has been confirmed as head of the EPA. While Wheeler is unlikely to replicate the zany, theatrical, grifts n’ crimez of his predecessor, he'll certainly make your air dirtier, and your drinking water more poisonous, and also he'll probably break into your kitchen to replace your Folgers Crystals with a dead, oil-soaked, pelican, just to see if you notice the difference.

Oh, I guess in the background, there’s some potentially mushroom-cloud-level brinkmanship going down between India and Pakistan? You can be forgiven for not noticing, with your windshield so thoroughly crusted over with domestic batshit. Anyway, if you're reading this on your laptop or phone in 2019, congrats, we survived! If you're experiencing this in a museum of Earth history on one of Jupiter's moons centuries from now, then YAY ME for writing some shit that survived the atomic holocaust! Suck it, Faulkner!

Hmmmm...maybe we should linger on the international page for a bit, since it looks like Benjamin Netanyahu has run into a spot of bother. Let's hope Bibi's on the cutting edge of a global trend here. All the hot, stylish, countries will be indicting corrupt chief executives this year...you wouldn't want to be left behind, would you?

And the Clowncar Full of Rectums known as CPAC convened for their annual Yelling and Lying and Rolling Around in Piles of Each Other's Shit party, presumably with the goal of putting to rest once and for all the myth that there are any sane Republicans left in America. I don't hate myself nearly enough to go through every single line of hateful drivel those loons spat out, but...short version, everybody took turns screaming at dead John McCain and then they served burgers with MyPillows for buns, because that's the only company that wingnuts aren't boycotting now.

The really horrifying thing to contemplate is the trajectory. What will CPAC look like in a decade, when the likes of Candace Owens and Seb Gorka are the ones writing the nostalgic editorials about the bygone civility of yesteryear? Who will speak? Richard Spencer? Hitler's Brain in a Jar? A Teddy Ruxpin doll playing tapes of old Laura Ingraham speeches, backwards, thereby summoning shit-belching demons who proceed to primary Louie Gohmert and Jim Jordan from the right?

Paul LePage weighed in on the debate about the Electoral College, praising it as a tool of institutional white supremacy. That HAPPENED, folks. If anybody ever tries to tell you racism is over, you just point them in the direction of the dude who was governor of a whole fuckin’ state, for two terms, arguing publicly and without shame that we can't just hand non-white folks the power to choose their own leaders.

Further evidence that we've achieved a truly Star-Trek-esque level of cultural harmony surfaced in the very statehouse in West Virginia, where the state GOP brought a poster-sized anti-Muslim hate meme, comparing Rep. Ilhan Omar to 9/11 terrorists, to a rally. Someone was actually injured in the resulting kerfuffle, but I'm told the incident's true victim was Mark Meadows.

It seems as though one of the fundamental truths of the universe is that Jared Kushner has no business with a high-level security clearance. Like, if a report from CERN announced that findings from the Large Hadron Collider prove that Jar-Jar shouldn't be allowed to handle classified intelligence, you'd go "makes sense” and move on with your day. Like, aside from the nepotism and the glaring lack of qualifications for any gig that necessitates access to such intelligence, the kid's two most prominent qualities are “super dumb” and “unusually blackmailable.”

But even after all the red flags, all the clearance form falsifications, the Marmalade Shartcannon overruled literally everyone, and decided that the national security of the United States of America had to take a back seat to his empty-headed son-in-law's ambitions, saying, “Look, Jared's not a bright kid, he needs all the help he can get. If he didn't have America's most closely-guarded secrets to sell to the Saudis, how do you expect him to get out from under all the stupid real estate deals he's made? We're talking about real money here, he can't hold a bake sale. Anyway, he doesn't know how to bake. Or even crack an egg, honestly.”

Even John Kelly fired off a memo opposing the move, as if to tell future law enforcement officials, “Look, y’all, I know I'm complicit in some shady-ass shit, and when the bill comes due, I'm totally fucked, but if you're wondering how the contents of the CIA's central servers wound up in Riyadh, I was on the record opposing this particular bit of treasonous idiocy.”

Gosh, President Crotchvoid sure has had a rough week, huh? Normally, for a world leader to see this much failure, they need to preside over a declining empire as it's sacked by goths. You know what would help him unwind? If the shiny new Democratic leadership of the House Ways and Means Committee finally got the ball rolling on uncovering those tax returns he's been guarding, so jealously and fearfully lo these many years. Hee hee. There's no golf course in the world so large that you won't see the walls closin’ in on you, Shart-Shart. Enjoy your weekend.

...and I'll enjoy mine. Like, when you turn 40, you get a little kid birthday again, right? A weeklong celebration where you have cake for dinner every night, only there's beer now too? That's my plan, anyways...

*OUCH, right?

Trump, Kraft, Acosta...We Are Overrun by Monsters. Here are Some Jokes, I Guess. (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Friends, I remain delighted and grateful that anybody ever stops by this page to read my silly little poo jokes, so thank you for being here. On my end, the blog functions partially as a coping mechanism, helping me channel the darker emotions that inevitably surface from just trying to survive here in Shitty Racist Wonderland, aka Donald Trump's Amerikkka.

Tonight, this mechanism has failed me. Tonight, I confess...I'm just angry. I'll try to slip in a few gags, folks, but it's a Primal Scream of Rage kind of evening.

(And, as always, this post is available on my blog site, with alllllll those news links you know and love: http://showercapblog.com/trump-kraft-acosta-we-are-overrun-by-monsters-here-are-some-jokes-i-guess/)

As Paul Manafort rots in jail*, I feel like his one defining characteristic is that he's not nearly as good at lying as he thinks he is. The Mueller investigation released a heavily-redacted, 800 page sentencing memo documenting Manafort's many crimes, including all the ways he violated his plea agreement by lying like a lying liar who lies. 800 pages, y’all. Charles Dickens is looking at that sentencing memo and going "little wordy, don'tcha think?”

Anyway, unless Paulie's deepest secret desire was to never see the sun again and swap his life of wealth and privilege for a cigarette-based economy where other people decide when he's allowed to turn the lights on and off, we can, now more than ever, label him...#Manafucked.

The blood-crazed rage cultists at the National Rifle Association are not handling their 2018 electoral thumping well, as evidenced by their magazine's Plausible Deniability is for Cucks “Target Practice” threat, directed at Nancy Pelosi, and even Gabby Giffords. I can't even wrap my mind around that shit. These people make Disney villains look nuanced and sympathetic.

I'm seriously asking here. How fucked up do you have to be to incite violence against a woman who already survived one assassination attempt? I mean, in the whole conservative fucknutosphere, are there any monsters more deranged than the Loesch/LaPierre/Bongino crowd, who venture out into the world every day of their lives to single-mindedly demand ever more carnage, ever more suffering and grief? THIS TRAVESTY WILL NOT, MUST NOT STAND, they screech, with the self-righteousness of demon preachers, FAR TOO MANY CHILDREN ARE SURVIVING TO ADULTHOOD! WE NEED MORE GUNS IN SCHOOLS TO CUT SOME OF THESE FUCKERS DOWN! TOO FEW AMERICANS KNOW THE GUT-WRENCHING LOSS OF A LOVED ONE'S LIFE CUT SHORT BY A GUNMAN'S BULLET! THIS PAIN MUST BE SPREAD FURTHER, LIKE A GREAT BLACK CLOUD, BLOTTING OUT THE VERY SUN!

I see a group of so-called “activists” decided that what the climate change fight really needs is a left-wing James O'Keefe, so they decided to use deceptive editing techniques to make a little video clip of California Senator Dianne Feinstein eating children, kicking puppies, and setting recycling bins on fire, cackling “The planet will die, but I care nary a whit! For I am olllllllllllllllllllld! Suck my exhaust fumes, kiddies!”

Look, campers. While you were learning how to use iMovie just well enough to lie, Feinstein has been in the fucking arena, passing actual laws in the face of colleagues who think the existence of snowballs disproves decades of hard science. She has a long, commendable record on environmental issues. You want climate legislation? Dianne Feinstein is not your obstacle. Funnel your energy into replacing Joni Ernst, David Perdue, Lindsey Graham, etc., in 2020. You don't pass bills on Twitter.

So, word on the street is, Spawn of Shart is makin’ noises about mounting his own Presidential run in 2024. Honestly, this is probably a good thing. I'm told it takes a lively fantasy life to survive in prison.

But seriously, if there's a self-awareness gene, it has passed over the Trump klan for a few generations. All through the midterm campaign season, we heard what a killer, sought-after, surrogate Junior was! But then the GOP got spanked from coast to coast, so maybe Kid Privilege's electioneering prowess is just like his daddy's dealmaking skill: heavily promoted but functionally non-existent.

Just one Republican has signed on to co-sponsor the House bill telling Pissant Pol Pot to take his bullshit, unconstitutional, “national emergency” and shove it up his overcooked-steak-fart hole, Michigan's Justin Amash. Now Justin is tweeting at his bros in disbelief, somehow amazed to discover that his party doesn't actually believe in anything other than hoarding power for themselves and their donors. I bet Amash hangs out with Bill Kristol, and they get hammered on wine coolers while reassuring each other that Bill Weld's primary challenge is really gonna catch fire.

President Syphilitic Dementia harnessed the full might of both his stability and his genius, proclaiming that there shall be a celebration of patriotism in Washington, D.C. on the Fourth of July. He's a real ideas man, isn't he? The detail where he said there would be fireworks was particularly inspired, I think.

Folks are starting to notice how Government Cheese Goebbels has been too scared to engage in the presidential tradition of throwing out the first pitch at an opening day baseball game. This is, of course, because he is fundamentally a coward. In his defense, watching him lob a baseball with his tiny, inadequate hands, witnessing as it plops lifelessly on the grass, nine or ten feet in front of the mound, would certainly evoke the derisive laughter that is every narcissist's most dreaded fear. Also, it would be bad for America's standing in the international community if the world saw the President run off the field in tears.

As we all sit around, impatiently awaiting the Mueller report, wondering whether William Barr will just shove it in a drawer, insisting America wouldn't wanna read the silly ol’ thing anyway, because it really drags in the third act, and they cut most of Carter Page's silliest hats, Adam Schiff, armed with his Gavel of Righteousness and Oversight Whoopass, says he'll be all to happy to subpoena Bodacious Bob to share all treasoniest gossip, and this is a run-on sentence that would make my high school English teacher drag me out of class by the ear. Sorry, Mrs. Jenkins.

Trump Buddy Robert Kraft is notoriously difficult to shop for. Like, what do you get for the man who has everything, even his own fucking NFL team? Looks like the answer to that question is “the chance to rape a literal slave.” We keep learning more revolting details about the massage parlor sting that's led to the arrests of Kraft and other mega-wealthy scumfucks, and they're heartbreaking and stomach-churning. As smarter people than I have pointed out, these men knew exactly what they were buying; they can afford the ritziest escort services in the world, but they chose to sneak down to Florida to RAPE SLAVES.

Dig a pit. As deep as you possibly can. Throw Kraft, and everyone else involved in this atrocity, in it. Walk away.

Hey, speaking of Human Trafficking Rings of the Rich and Famous, the President whose campaign was financed by sex slave aficionado Bob Kraft sees no reason to boot Pet Attorney to Sex Slavers Alex Acosta from his cabinet, because, and let's not sugarcoat this, THE PRESIDENT DOESN'T HAVE ANY PROBLEM WITH HUMAN TRAFFICKING. Loves to use its specter to rile up fear and loathing at the southern border, but can't bring himself to say a bad word about his actual friends who engage in and enable the sex slave trade. The banality of evil, strutting down the runway, while we all gawk and stare.

The Most Busiest Most Hard-Workingest of All Possible Presidents somehow found time in his hectic schedule to rage-tweet at Spike Lee over his Oscar acceptance speech, like an old man yelling at a diner waitress because the menu doesn't have Sanka anymore. Don't worry, he still doesn't know how tariffs work.

Or trade, for that matter. When trade representative Robert Lighthizer tried to correct his nonsensical ramblings, Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops interrupted to peevishly demand that his misinformed gibberish be treated as golden droppings of pure wisdom from God's own mouth, like a child insisting his crayon scribble of Maybe a Horse Maybe a Stegosaurus Who the Fuck Knows be relocated from the fridge to the Louvre. And of course, the lead Chinese negotiator laughed directly in his face. High-stakes negotiations between two leading global powers, in front of live cameras, and he behaves like such a raging dipshit that people can't restrain their laughter. Rad.

Former Fed Chair Janet Yellen also dropped by to concur that yes, Littlefinger is indeed a custard-brained numbskull whose infantile misconception of the global economy threatens us all. She may have been a little nicer about it than that, but fortunately I'm here to translate.

The Manchurian Manchild took a few shots at Harry Reid, who recently criticized him for all his shittiness and whatnot. Heh. Old man, one of the many accomplishments of Harry Reid's storied career was passing the Affordable Care Act, improving millions of American lives. You, on the other hand, spent every last dime of your meager political capital in a failed attempt to repeal that bill, in the process making your party so unpopular that it got wiped out in the midterms. You shipwrecked your whole misbegotten life on the shores of Harry's work. And he's worth ten thousand of you.

And now, Little Donnie Dotard is on his way to Vietnam, eager for a fresh new chance to humiliate America by tap-dancing on demand for a murderous third world dictator. Unsatisfied at having previously granted Kim Jong-un his desperately-craved stature on the world stage in exchange for not one damn thing, not even a hotel towel, our Fuckhead Cuck President might just give the bastard a foot massage and rim job this time.

Y'see, Kim sends him letters. Nice letters, where he says nice things about Wee Don. That's all it takes to get the American President to ignore the advice of literally everyone alive: a couple of compliments. Manipulating Trump through flattery is like, Life Hacks for Totalitarians. But how is it possible that, after seven decades spent shuffling through this life, this doddering nitwit is still unaware that the people around him use flattery to manipulate him? Narcissism is one thing, but we're talking about basic pattern recognition here.

Yet another woman accused President Crotchrot of sexually assaulting her, this time during the 2016 campaign, so I guess he was just Citizen Crotchrot at the time. The media treated this news as no particularly big deal; after all there have been...honestly, we've lost track of the number of these allegations, but it's over twenty. But you can bet your life savings that this won't shake the faith of Emperor Turdpile’s evangelical “Christian” base.

The Trump Organization sent an insultingly tiny check to the U.S. Treasury, claiming to represent every dollar of profit from the comically obvious Please Place All Bribes Here grift that is their Washington, D.C. hotel, like a kickback to the neighborhood beat cop. Will the American people get to sift through your ledgers to make sure your math checks out? Not without a subpoena. I guess we'll just have to get us a few more of those, huh?

And the Shart House is setting up a secret panel of mouth-breathing shitmaggots to sit in a room, point at decades worth of climate science, and go, “Nuh UH.” Cool. Always awesome when your government declares war on objective reality. Like, what's next? The Presidential Committee to Deny the Existence of Wednesday? Sarah Slanders stomps out to the briefing room and declares “There is no such thing as elbows?”

Fuck it, I can't take any more of this shit. If there's any more news today, leave it in the comments, I need to go shout into a pillow for six or seven hours.

*I'm ordering a pizza later, washing it down with a six pack, and accompanying both with a screening of John Frankenheimer's classic, THE TRAIN. I can do all of these things because, unlike Paul Manafort, I am not in jail.

Three of the Biggest Political Scandals of my Lifetime, & I'm Writing "Jussie Smollett" for Clicks

Yeah, this is all clearly one giant practical joke y’all are pulling on me. You're pumping nitrous oxide into my apartment and hacking my tablet to redirect my news searches to Lewis Carroll's unpublished archives, aren't you? Shit cannot possibly be this cray in real life.

...can it?

(Well, you can, if you like, click on over to my blog site, where you'll find this post with all kinds of helpful news links, and who knows, maybe even some magic beans: http://showercapblog.com/three-of-the-biggest-political-scandals-of-my-lifetime-im-putting-jussie-smollett-in-my-title-to-get-clicks/)

Well, in the interest of getting the small stuff out of the way up front, it looks like members of the Shart Administration have been doing their damndest to secretly ship American nuclear technology to Saudi Arabia, in Are You Fucking Kidding Me-level defiance of the law.

Anyway, let's move on to Jussie Smollett. Can you belie-actually waitasec. You're telling me the organized(well, kinda) crime ring squatting in our White House has been trying to sell NUCLEAR TECH to the genocidal, journalist-dismembering, monsters of the House of Saud? That confessed felon Mike Flynn was at the center of the scheme? That perpetually-of-his-depth-while-simultaneously-dangerously-in-debt Jared Kushner is involved? HOW IS THIS NOT THE BIGGEST SCANDAL IN THE FUCKING WORLD RIGHT NOW?

Folks, the boiling frog thing is real. At this point, the frog has been boiled into frog steam, and the atoms of the frog have journeyed throughout the universe, finding new homes everywhere from the hearts of far-flung stars to the cells of entirely new frogs, which are now boiling in entirely new pots of water. Have we grown so numb to the cascade of criminality that we now shrug at illicit nuclear deals?

Speaking of What the Fuck Will it Take to Get This Motherfucker Impeached news, the Failing New York Times walked us through the Kompromat Kid’s long, often bumbling but consistently corrupt attempts to derail the various investigations into his favorite hobby, which is committing crimes. Donald Trump spends so much time and energy obstructing justice, that he literally brings a statue of Lady Justice with him when he goes to the movies, then deliberately sits in front of it wearing a a top hat.

With the battle to rescue American democracy from the tiny-fingered clutches of a mad would-be tyrant heating up, you'll no doubt be pleased to learn that CNN has hired a right-wing, conspiracy-theory-peddling hack, with zero journalistic experience, to serve as political editor during the 2020 Presidential race. Don't worry, I'm sure Sarah Isgur, who until recently spent her time vomiting up Breitbartian propaganda on a taxpayer salary as Jeff “Too Racist for the 80's” Sessions’ spokesmonster at Justice, will be both fair and balanced at all times.

Certainly more balanced than our ol’ chum, Tucker Carlson. He invited Dutch historian Rutger Bregman on his show, and when the guest refused to play by the house rules, Liar Tuck melted down in what's sure to make all the year-end Best Tantrum lists. Like all bullies, Carlson is, of course, a coward at heart. Anyway, he was right back to pimping white supremacists, live on tv, before the dust had settled.

Clarence Thomas thinks the First Amendment has gotten too big for its britches, and needs to be tied to a stake in the yard so as to keep it from snapping at the famous and powerful.* Since Justice Thomas is famous for speaking very little from the bench, I think it's rather thoughtful of him to take the time to remind us that he's awful.

Nancy Pelosi is once again breaking out the spritzer bottle she uses to keep the Manchurian Manchild from jumping up on the kitchen counter, scheduling a House vote next week to block his emergency declaration for that wall thing that he openly admitted wasn't an emergency. And of course he's being challenged in the courts as well.

On the other hand, perhaps Pelosi needn't bother going to all this trouble; it seems a significant chunk of the funding Weehands McNodick was hoping to unconstitutionally repurpose for his Big Dumb Wall has, rather amusingly, already been spent. Heh. You might have to break open the piggy bank where you keep the Secret Service’s pay-to-pee money, old man.

Well, I hope the bullies on the North Carolina Board of Elections are proud of themselves! They've reduced poor Mark Harris, who only wanted to steal a U.S. House seat from the voters of the NC 9th, to tears! Mark was extra sad that his son refused to lie under oath (an oath presumably taken on that Bible that “Pastor” Harris so famously misunderstands) for him, and so he wept, for he had been caught defying a subpoena, and lying about it under oath (“So help you God,” Pastor?) about it.

But now a fresh new election has been called, and Mark Harris will not be a U.S. Congressman, and the Shower Cap did look upon this turn of events and say, “It is Good.” And while the Big Blue Wave of November, 2018, saw the Democratic Party pick up a nice, even, 40 seats in the House, 41 would be...well, it'd be one more, wouldn't it? So let's all pitch in and help Dan McCready win this one, huh? I for one am not yet tired of winning.

I see Vlad Putin is strutting around, making nuclear threats like some cut-rate Rocky and Bullwinkle villain. It's fun to imagine the earth-shaking fury President Hillary Clinton would have unleashed on that cheap thug for pulling that shit, though of course we all know he wouldn't have dared. Instead, we have to picture Little Donnie Two-Scoops, hiding in the bathroom while he sends his boss pleading texts, begging him not to nuke Europe until at least after the next election.

Federal agents arrested a white nationalist Coast Guard lieutenant (wow, this sentence sucks already) before he could carry out his planned act of terrorist mass-murder (and it got worse in a hurry), finding him in possession of a cache of narcotics and a substantial arsenal (thanks, NRA!) as well as a spreadsheet listing desired targets, which just so happens to align neatly with a list of those President Crotchrot has targeted in various Twitter rants. Yeah, another white domestic terrorist, radicalized and incited to violence by the President of the United States, isn't that swell?

This horrific near-miss gave Sarah Huckleberry Slanders yet another opportunity to whine that her dirtbag boss is unfairly maligned JUST because he uses Stalinist language to rile up hatred of the free press. "He is in fact a great man of peace, and if there were any sort of prize for that, say a Nobel one, he should totally get that prize."

I have to give credit where credit is due, and so when Team Shitforbrains announced William Happer as the chair of a new committee on climate change, what can I do but tip my cap? There are some grade A morons in the climate denier community, but only one who claims CO2 is actually persecuted, just like “the poor Jews under Hitler.” I mean, that's a true masterstroke of idiocy. It's like making Jenny McCarthy your Surgeon General, or appointing Pam Geller as Secretary of State. I'm honestly in awe.

After two years of more or less constant failure, Il Douche frequently resorts to simply fabricating accomplishments, which you'll have to admit is much easier than actually accomplishing things. The latest, possibly most pathetic, instance came this week, when he tweeted out five-month-old footage of repair work on existing border barrier as evidence that his Big Dumb Wall was already under construction. Crrrrrrrrrrrrringe! Maybe he should just force the White House press corps to sit through a screening of the failed Matt Damon vehicle, The Great Wall, declare total victory, and move on.

In a Horatio Alger story for the 21st century, Alex Acosta proved that in America, even a lowly U.S. Attorney can, if he rolls up his sleeves and works really hard, rise all the way to the Cabinet, if he's just willing to break the law on behalf of a wealthy child sex trafficker, so long as that wealthy child sex trafficker happens to be a Republican donor. Anyhow, “illegally greasing the skids for a serial child molester” does not seem to be a deal-breaker for continued employment in the Drumpf regime. Ethics, as we are all aware by now, are for cucks.

Roger Stone fought the law, and the law gave Roger Stone an atomic wedgie, stole his lunch money, and sent him back out into the world wearing a Kick Me sign. Seems the judge overseeing his case was somewhat less than amused by Roger's wacky, tweeting-out-death-threats antics.

It sure was fun to watch Rog scramble n’ flail, though. When you best defense is “At 66 years of age, I do not know what crosshairs are, Your Honor,” you know you're in for a long day. Stone's spin was that he thought it was just some sort of exotic, magical, Celtic symbol, and that his intention was merely to summon Larry Byrd, who would then challenge Judge Amy Berman Jackson to a game of Horse, in which he would inevitably humiliate her, potentially forcing her into hiding. Anyhoo, he's got a full gag order now, which must be absolutely killing him. Heh.

A Manhattan residential complex voted to take scrape the “Trump Place” name off their building like so much bird poo, because residents had grown weary of retching every time they came home.

Also, a Manhattan residential complex voted to take scrape the “Trump Place” name off their building like so much bird poo, because residents had grown weary of retching every time they came home.

What? Jesus, Cap, how drunk are you tonight? Didn't you notice you accidentally posted the same paragraph twice? Thing is, these really are two different stories about two different buildings. Yes, Virginia, this really happened twice in one short week. Most Presidents tend to see their names added to schools and roads and such. But then, most Presidents aren't treasonous, pussy-grabbing, child-concentration-camp-opening, shitpiles, I suppose.

Iowa Congressman/Birth of a Nation LARPer Steve King announced his plans to run for re-election, insisting he has “nothing to apologize for.” I can't really muster the energy to be mad about this, honestly. Do we expect the white supremacist to say, “hey, sorry I'm a white supremacist?” Anyway, good luck in your primary, Steve-O...your challenger's case, which we can assume will be based heavily around some form of, “I am not such a mega-racist jagoff that my own party will strip me of my committee assignments, and therefore, unlike the incumbent, I will be able to actually represent you in Congress,” is likely to prove compelling.

Paul Manafort may be praying for a pardon, but it turns out that even if Boss Turdworm hands his former campaign chair that sweet get-out-jail-free card, Manhattan prosecutors would be lurking right outside the prison door, presumably with a giant cartoon net, armed with a whole fleet of new, unpardonable, state-level charges. When you're #Manafucked, you're #Manafucked.

Heading into his Please God Let Me Have Just One Day of Favorable Headlines summit with Kim Jong-un, Donnie Dotard's advisors are reportedly worried he will once again get utterly played by a third-world gangster, probably swapping Hawaii for a contract to open a Trump University satellite campus in Pyongyang. Remember, “dealmaking” is supposed to be the guy's strong suit.

In a classic bit of Republican fuckery, Team Thickheaded Theocrat issued a new set of guidelines that gosh-what-a-zany-coincidence would strip Title X funding from Planned Parenthood. It's just the latest dirty trick from the Okay if We Can't Directly Destroy Reproductive Rights Let's Pass a Law Where Abortion Providers Need to Have Admitting Privileges at a Local Hospital and Also be Proficient Bassoonists Who Can Juggle Knives on a Unicycle playbook.

President Used Enema Water's buddy/donor, Patriots owner Robert Kraft, got arrested for soliciting prostitution in a sting against a human trafficking ring, which isn't funny at all, though it is the second story in one week connecting sex traffickers to the highest ranks of our current dirtbag government. In my opinion, the next President shouldn't be connected to multiple sex traffickers. I hope that gets brought up in the debates.

News from the trade war is mostly good, except for the 27.5 million tons of unsold soybeans and the 7.7 billion dollars in government bailouts dispersed to offset the damages wrought by the Bonespur Buttplug’s misinformed temper tantrum. I'm sorry, did I say the news was mostly good? I appear to have been lying.

Forced to withdraw his previous nominee for Ambassador to the United Nations, largely because she was a dangerously under-qualified idiot, Shart Garfunkel has instead nominated a different dangerously under-qualified idiot to the post.

And while we keep getting teased with the imminent release of some sort report, perhaps even THE report, from the Mueller investigation, we're told it will not come next week, as Bodacious Bob will instead be dropping a secret album of American standards, featuring duets with Lady Gaga, Miranda Lambert, and, surprisingly, Sally Yates.

We do have a number of Michael Cohen hearings to look forward to however, though most will be behind closed doors. The Sensei of Sez-Hoo is making the most of his farewell tour, having obtained a brief delay to the start of his prison sentence. Perhaps he'll schedule some post-hearing after-shows, ideally in a more intimate, jazz club type setting. Maybe he can dish on this new info he's allegedly been turning over to prosecutors...

Well, that's all I got tonight, friends, and if that ain't enough for ya, you have a problem. Seriously, you're sitting there at your desk, so gorged on news you're about to pop like that one guy in Se7en. Yeah, that one. Take a break, goddammit.

*No, YOU'RE mixing metaphors.

Happy Presidents Day, You Say? Nah, I Believe Putin...Owns the Current Guy. (Ferret/Shower Cap)

I confess it's hard to enjoy this holiday when it feels like we're all trapped in a bad 80's movie titled “President's Day,” directed by Stanley Kubrick from a National Lampoon script, starring Rodney Dangerfield as a rogue artificial intelligence that gains supreme executive power and tries to destroy humanity while periodically screaming “I get no respect.” Anyway, since you're here, we may as well do the news...

(As is customary, you can find this post, with all the news links you know and love, on my humble blog site, here: http://showercapblog.com/happy-presidents-day-you-say-nah-i-believe-putin-owns-the-current-guy/)

Well, the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits declared his precious little “state of emergency,” in what I'm now told was actually a press conference, and not, as I initially believed, an extended audition for a One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest remake. Seriously folks, that this drooling idiot wasn't tackled at any point by a flock of cabinet secretaries screaming “IT'S 25TH AMENDMENT TIME, MUTHAFUCKAAAAAAS!!!!” really tells you all you need to know about the character of the Ben Carsons and Steve Mnuchins of the world.

Anyway, the Velveeta Vulgarian helpfully volunteered the information that his fabricated border “crisis” is in no way an actual emergency, and do you ever wonder if maybe his whole Presidency is just an insanely detailed plot to drive his attorneys to madness and suicide?

Two of those attorneys appear to have lied to the Office of Government Ethics* about hush money paid by the Fascist Farthuffer’s Former Fixer, Michael Cohen, during the 2016 campaign. Fear not, House Oversight Chair Elijah Cummings is on the case, as the Oversight Renaissance rolls on and on and on.

Disgraced Hot Tub SpokesGoon Matt Whitaker, fresh off a congressional hearing that has since been pitched to the networks as the pilot for a show titled Fuck ‘Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader’ How About ‘Are You Smarter Than a Dismembered Human Toe?’, has landed a new gig at the Justice Department, collecting a fat taxpayer salary to continue the important work of Finding Out What the Feds Have on his Cheap Grifter Boss.

Looks like former Massachusetts Governor Bill Weld has taken on the tragic task of mounting a primary challenge to Tangerine Idi Amin, and thereby destroying once and for all the NeverTrump movement’s pathetic delusion that there was ever a Republican Party that read long, dry, essays about deficits or trade or privatizing social security, and passionately championed the ideas they found therein, rather than a slobbering white supremacist hate cult, hungry for an authoritarian thug to punish perceived enemies. I am seriously worried that when Weld drops out after Super Tuesday without winning a single state, Bill Kristol will shatter like a dropped brandy snifter at a Hampton's fundraiser.

We learned that the Mueller investigation finally got around to asking Sarah Huckleberry Slanders to quantify just how much treason she's witnessed during her tenure as a gaslighting sockpuppet for the cabal of treacherous crooks squatting in our White House. You sort of hope Rugged Robert started the interview with a smirk and a quick, “So who had the larger inauguration crowd, Obama or your guy? Don't forget it's a crime to lie to the FBI.”

Vice President Mike Pants went to Munich for a big fancy security conference, and when it was time for his speech he went, “Alright y’all, put your hands in the air and give it up for Mr. Donald J. Truuuuuuuuuuump!” only to be met with this stoniest silence in the entire history of the universe. Seriously folks, this was truly magnificent silence. Silence that SCREAMED. Silence that said, clear as a bell, “Fuck you and the horse you road in on, also eat shit, eat all the shit on Earth and then never brush your teeth again.”

Ratfucker Prince Roger Stone, staring down the business end of a prison sentence that's likely to end any lingering internal debates about where to spend his retirement, figured now was the ideal time for thinly-veiled threats of violence against the judge overseeing his case. Smart fellah.

‘Course, I can understand why ol’ Rog is so skittish these days; word is, the Special Counsel has evidence of Stone sliding into WikiLeaks’ DMs, looking for some hawt collusion action. On top of that, he even (allegedly) two-timed everybody's least favorite poorly-groomed fugitive from justice, with Guccifer 2.0, so yeah, one of the President's oldest and closest associates was chit-chatting with Russian intelligence during the campaign, but I'm sure it was mainly gossip about whoever Tay-Tay was dating.

Speaking of jailed associates of the Grand Wizard Grifter, Paul Manafort is SAD that he's facing even more prison time for his many, many, crimes. Yeah, bud, jail looks really shitty. That's one of the big reasons people don't go around committing as many crimes as you did. But hey, if you want to wheel yourself out to performatively demonstrate how unhappy you are to be dealing with the consequences of your role in fucking up my country, I say "thank you sir, for providing me with this delightful content, MOAR PLEASE.” If somebody can give me a live stream of Precocious Paulie weeping into his prison oatmeal while characters reminiscent of the cast of OZ menace him, I will fund that Patreon account, ‘kay?

And speaking of the Bobadook, I hope he went to Costco for those subpoena forms, cuz he's really burnin’ through ‘em these days. The latest recipient of the most sought-after gift in high-class traitor circles is former Cambridge Analytica director Brittany Kaiser, who surely has some tales to tell. In totally unrelated news, Steve Bannon has been googling “How to make gin in a prison sink.”

It's looking more and more like John McCain was one of Lindsey Graham's horcruxes, because the onetime NeverTrump Senator's public calendar keeps filling up with go-on-TV-to-unapologetically-stooge-for-raw-evil-type events. Lindsey's so horny for his Turd Emperor's useless wall that he's not only cheerleading for the totally unconstitutional power grab, he's looking to build the stupid thing with funds that had been earmarked for the construction of a middle school in Kentucky.

Look, middle school sucks, everybody knows that. It's when they take away recess and lock you up with all the other little shits and try to teach you the scientific method and make you read To Kill a Mockingbird while you go through puberty and inflict lifelong psychological trauma on one another, but unlike the Big Dumb Wall, it's something we actually need, Lindsey, so kindly take a seat and shut the fuck up for once.

If by chance Stephen Miller awoke from a fitful slumber Sunday morning, and greeted the day by proclaiming, perhaps in song, “What I want more than anything in the world is to have Chris Wallace eviscerate me and then force-feed me my own intestines live on national television,” then boy oh boy did he get his wish. Now, while I certainly enjoy watching that skeevy little imp squirm, remembering that Miller, who doesn't have two brain cells to rub together but propels himself through life purely on the power of his boundless, snarling, hate, still has the ear of the American President is...not my favorite thing about the state of the world right now.

Heather Nauert withdrew from consideration as Ambassador to United Nations, not because holy shit was she unqualified for the post, but because she once employed a nanny who wasn't legally authorized to work in the U.S. Well, they got Al Capone on tax evasion, so I'll take it.

In a move destined to secure his spot on the Mount Rushmore of Cringe, it seems Weehands McNodick called up Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe one night to say “Hey, I don't want to be weird about it or anything but if you weren't busy later it would be really cool if you could, I dunno, maybe nominate me for the Nobel Peace Prize?” and Abe rolled his eyes and did it, because these days, tending to your country's national security means handjobbing a narcissist's frail ego from time to time.

An additional display of Presidential confidence n’ strength came when Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet declared a second national emergency because Saturday Night Live made fun of him again. In a way, Alec Baldwin is the canary in our totalitarian coal mine; as long as there's somebody around to talk Donnie out of throwing Alec in jail or outright assassinating him, there's still hope the Republic will endure.

Throughout all the weekend's other madness, Andrew McCabe's been out there, waving his arms, trying to get literally anyone's attention, like the scientist in the first five minutes of the movie who sees the asteroid hurtling towards the planet, but everybody treats him like he's nuts, and later he gets a split-second “toldja so” reaction shot before all life on Earth is obliterated.

McCabe went on 60 minutes to tell an amusing little after-dinner anecdote about an FBI official briefing the President on the nuclear threat from North Korea, and hitting a wacky snag when the assessment of the American intelligence apparatus ran counter to what Little Donnie Two-Scoops had heard from his BFF, Vladimir. I don't remember how the whole story went, but the punchline was, “I don't care, I believe Putin.”

I don't care. I believe Putin.

Can I just ask, why didn't the whole goddamn world come to a complete stop the minute those words were broadcast? Like, why isn't the entire U.S. Congress changing into their impeachin’ pants right now? If the nuclear codes are in the hands of a dude whose foreign policy is the Whatever Vlad Says Doctrine, we have a real fuckin’ problem, folks. I mainly just don't want to be drafted into the War to Conquer the Baltics for Uncle P, y'know? I think I feel my bone spurs acting up...

I see Anthony Weiner got out of jail, free at last to rejoin the world he damn near single-handedly fucked up back in 2016, when his inability to control his perverted impulses landed his laptop at the FBI, prompting Jim Comey to prioritize the needs of his own ego over the nation's stability and send that stupid fucking letter to Congress that the whole godforsaken world is still paying for two years later and I'm not saying Weiner should be launched into the sun no wait I'm absolutely saying Weiner should be launched into the sun. To be clear: SOMEBODY LAUNCH ANTHONY WEINER INTO THE SUN.

And down in North Carolina, a public hearing exposed the schemes “Pastor” Mark Harris financed to steal the NC-09 House seat from the voters, with a Republican operative confessing to a whole shit-ton of super-illegal ballot tampering. Harris is still, darkly if hilariously, demanding that his tainted “victory” be certified by the State Board of Elections, which is decidedly not what Jesus would do.

Look, I know none of y’all need to be told that Mitch McConnell is an evil, enabling, fuckhead, but if you felt like reading an editorial about what an evil, enabling, fuckhead Mitch McConnell is, well, I am your hookup.

The madness never stops, my friends, and during the drafting of this blog, Roger Stone kinda sorta apologized, or at least his lawyers did, and a bunch of states sued to stop the Marmalade Shartcannon's tyrannical emergency declaration, though nobody seems to have launched Anthony Weiner into the sun as yet.

So that's where we are, folks, and it's only Monday. And it's only February. I'll remind you the groundhog saw his shadow, so we've got an extra ten months of Hell this year. And people wonder why I drink.

*Ah, ethics. Remember those?

He's Too Dumb to Figure Out How Umbrellas Work, & We're Just Now Declaring a National Emergency?

You may recall in Monday night's blog, I commented that the news had been a bit on the slow side. The Gods apparently heard me, and decided to teach me a little lesson. Ah, hubris! Anyway, I wore out three different keyboards writing up tonight's post...let's dive in so we can get through this shit before the sun goes out.

(Hey everybody, thanks for all the hearts! As usual, you can find this post, with all the links you love, on my blog site: http://showercapblog.com/the-president-is-too-dumb-to-figure-out-how-umbrellas-work-and-were-just-now-declaring-a-national-emergency-cool/)

Well, the last episode of Shower Cap ended right at the brink of the dueling Beto/Trump rallies in El Paso, so let's pick up where we left off. Of course, Government Cheese Goebbels, still reeling from a string of failures seldom seen since the fall of Rome, retreated to the comforting fantasy of imaginary crowd sizes, which I actually fully support. See, this way, when the REAL crowds show up, at the ballot box, he’s extra surprised and it hurts more.

Oh, and Spawn of Shart, who is so fucking dumb he thinks he looks good with that beard, took a giddy little jab at the nation's “loser” teachers. Or maybe it was intended as a compliment, considering his loser dad is still waiting for the Pelosi's-boot-shaped welt on his ass to fade away. A frothy crowd of the most easily-duped rubes in America, sneering at their old teachers while soaking up further lies from the cheap grifter family that seeks only to pick their pockets? Sounds about right.

And in the latest installment of the coloring-book adaptation of 1984 that is our lives, Team Treasonweasel has begun slowly gaslighting MAGA nation into believing the Big Dumb Wall is already being built. From “build the wall!” to “finish the wall!,” perhaps eventually we'll hear that screeching flock of rectums chanting, “decorate the wall with tasteful tapestries!” long into 2020, even as the wall remains completely imaginary.

And finally, shitting on all the fun we're having laughing at these bumpkins as they scarf down lies while tripping over one another to pay Jared Kushner's legal bills, one of the maniacs lost his shit and assaulted a journalist, a sobering reminder that the President of the United States unapologetically stirs up fear and hatred, all too willing to see blood shed in his name if it keeps him out of jail for one more day.

Also, the Spray-tanned Chalatan, apparently having discovered some of the half-joking commentary about how his unusual lack of a Presidential pet is just one more sign of his sociopathy, declared that getting a dog would be “phony." I'm inclined to agree; any attempt to act as though he is capable of affection for any living creature who is not himself would indeed be fraudulent.

Didja see where Sharty McFly and his craven GOP enablers swiped Hillary Clinton's “Stronger Together” campaign slogan? I get it, campers, you're running out of ideas. You can see where this is going...as 2020 gets closer, you'll see Wee Don hitting the trail in pantsuits, carrying hot sauce with him wherever he goes, eventually unveiling banners that read, “I'm With Herpes.”

And the Republican crusade against bigotry mobilized for righteous war against Rep. Ilan Omar, before heading over to that cookout at Steve King's place. I confess I can barely muster an eye roll at this theatrical hypocrisy anymore. Yes, Mike Pants, I'm sure you're very concerned about equality, but I don't want you to be late for the meeting where you let the Human Version of a Burning Cross, Stephen Miller, set the nation's immigration policy.

Look, Omar tweeted something that she shouldn't have, and she apologized. Watching the Very Fine President demand her resignation before getting updates on the child concentration camps he opened is a little much, don'tcha think? I could keep going, bit I'm gonna pass this one off to special guest artist Jake Tapper.

And while Hairplug Himmler might not care much about the suffering of children, his heart bleeds for an obsolete Kentucky coal plant that, and you're not gonna believe this ZANY coincidence, buys coal from one his major donors. "LET MY PEOPLE GO!” bellowed the President, “AND BY ‘PEOPLE’ I MEAN ‘MY RICH BUDDY'S MONEY!’”

Howard Schultz, continuing his baffling quest to seek the Presidency while possessing all the likability of a mouth tumor, claims he doesn't see color. He won't see votes, either.

Democrat Mark Warner and Republican Richard Burr appear to be at odds regarding the findings of the Senate Intelligence Committee’s investigation into collusion and other crimez. With Wrestlemania just around the corner, it's clear this disagreement can only be settled...INSIDE A STEEL CAGE.

After days of media prodding, the Shart House finally released a little bullshit statement about Fat Q*Bert's annual medical evaluation, assuring America that this waddling old bastard, whose blood type is Crisco and whose brain is deteriorating from exposure to experimental hair tonic fumes, is in perfect health. Sure. And Mexico's gonna pay for the wall.

Perhaps still pining for the banana republic military parade he never got, the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits announced his boldest, most original idea do date: a brand-new parade, of his own creation! On the 4th of July! Perhaps even with fireworks! A new tradition that will carry his name through the ages, 'till the very end of recorded time!

Folks, he really thought he invented the idea of an Independence Day parade. He figured nobody ever considered that before. Probably wandered around the White House, taunting the portraits of his predecessors for their inferior patriotic genius. “No wonder you're not on any currency, Teddy Roosevelt, you dumb CUCK.”

The 35-day government shartdown saw the President making the greatest personal sacrifice of his entire term, and I'm not just talking about his approval ratings. No, the Velveeta Vulgarian, with an iron-willed conviction that surely would have inspired the troops at Valley Forge, weathered the entire duration of the shutdown without a single round of golf...or so we thought.

Demonstrating a relentless drive to solve the problem of his own boredom that he's never once brought to the table on behalf of the American people, Littlefinger had a $50,000 golf simulator installed in the White House. In unrelated news, the mystery of “executive time” has been solved.

Sticking with sports for a while, shout out to rage-filled nitwit who decided he hated seeing black people exercising their free speech rights SO MUCH that he drove his own sporting goods store out of business. Yup, this MacArthur Grant recipient figured he'd retaliate against Nike for their Colin Kaepernick ad by hitting his own dick with a hammer until he went broke. You know this dude watched that El Paso rally and went, “Yeah! Teachers ARE losers.”

Seems our old pal Paul Manafort likes jail so much, he's aiming to stick around awhile. Like, for the rest of his life. Yes, the President's former campaign chair got caught fibbin’ to Bodacious Bob Mueller, thus invalidating his plea deal, and Paulie, I don't think you're gonna be reunited with that ostrich jacket any time soon.

There's a hot new drug making waves from coast to coast, and on the street, they're calling it Alex Jones Losing in Court Over and Over Again. Unnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngh it feels so gooooooooooooooood! That bloated little scatmuncher has to give a sworn deposition in the lawsuit filed by the Sandy Hook families he terrorized for so long, bringing him one step closer to his richly-deserved financial ruin. C'mon man...just one more hit...JUST ONE MORE!

Former Acting FBI director Andrew McCabe sent his old boss a valentine in the form of a media tour promoting his new book about what a dirty crooked crook President Shartcannon is, and how much he prefers breaking laws to obeying them. Honestly I was on the fence about picking this one up until I found out it shits on dear departed Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III as well, documenting his rock-headed goon racism, so okay, Andy, take my fucking money.

The wife of Shart House Communications Czar Bill Shine took to the pneumatic tweeting machine to speak on behalf of...measles. For real, y’all. This lady is out there advocating for MORE MEASLES because measles are great. She thinks having measles prevents cancer (nope), so you should sprinkle ‘em on your kids’ breakfast cereal. Anyway if “eradicating diseases” is a partisan issue now, I am definitely not ever vacationing in a red state again.

William Barr has been confirmed as Attorney General, and yeah, he's a partisan hack who's said a bunch of deeply troubling shit about the Mueller investigation, but he's also such an upgrade over the “masculine toilet” guy that this almost feels like it belongs in the Good News column, and if that isn't evidence that this is Hell, I don't know what is.

President Crotchrot's Large Adult Sons abandoned their plans to start two new hotel chains, because even though they kept their despised family name out of the branding this time around, everyone hates them, and besides, everything they own, down to the laces in their shoes, will wind up forfeited to the government once Mueller's done, so why bother?

The bipartisan border security compromise passed the Senate and then the House, leaving the Shart of the Deal with no wall funding, and in fact significantly less money for barriers than he was offered before the shutdown. In addition, the President must have “Property of Nancy Pelosi” tattooed on his forehead, and do the truffle shuffle before entering the Capitol Building. Truly, a legendary negotiator.

Weehands McNodick says he'll sign the bill, but it looks like, after weeks of flailing and failing, he's finally gonna look the Constitution square in the eye, raise up his tiny, inadequate, fists, and shout, “Come at me, bro,” proclaiming his own blistering incompetence to be a national emergency. In a way, he's sorta right about that one.

Like so much of Tangerine Idi Amin’s reign, the wannabe tyranny of this move is eclipsed only by its pettiness. This addled old dolt really picks THIS dumbass fight for his long-threatened full frontal assault on the rule of law? For an idiotically wasteful "solution" to an imaginary problem? For a little red meat to throw to the already thoroughly-hypnotized crowd that wouldn't abandon him if he came to their house, pissed on the kitchen table, set grandma on fire, and ate the last cupcake?

Obviously, he'll face pushback from Democrats in Congress and, hopefully, the courts...but there's always that nagging little fear that Brett Kavanaugh'll get John Roberts all fucked up on whippits and Jell-O shots and get him to vote to end democracy, isn't there?

And then there's the danger of setting a precedent...if he gets away this, he's just going to turn around and declare another national emergency because Salma Hayek won't go out with him.

ANYWAY....yeah, it's Valentine's Day, but for too many people, February 14th will never be anything but the anniversary of the tragic mass-shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. The families of the 17 victims who lost their lives a year ago today, like the survivors of Sandy Hook and so many other senseless tragedies before them, marked the day by sharing their stories, in the hope that America will finally free itself from the murderous madness of gun culture.

The stories are, as you can imagine, rough reading, but make time if you can. And maybe take a few of the dollars you've budgeted for tomorrow's post-holiday candy sales and give ‘em to Everytown, or Mom's Demand Action, or Giffords PAC. After so many years of stagnation, we're finally making progress on this issue. Watching freshmen Rep. Lucy McBath help advance a universal background checks bill, in the name of her slain son, gives me great hope for the future. Let's all chip in and get this done.

Hang on to that progress, friends. Even in these dark, insane, days, there really is good news all around us. On gerrymandering in Virginia. On teacher pay in Denver. On the minimum wage in Illinois. Who knows what else, I'm fucking hammered, and probably missed some major shit. The point is, elections have consequences, and we kicked ass in the last round of elections, and we're starting to see the fruits of that ass-kicking.

Makes you want to do it all over again, first this November, and then again in 2020, doesn't it?

...and if you need one last chuckle, I'll bet you'll enjoy this article about the feral assclowns of the Freedom Caucus, adjusting to their new reality as non-entities in the House minority.

While Wee Don Whines About Work, Amy, Liz, and Beto Take Turns Whoopin' His Ass (Ferret/Shower Cap)

The news has been a little slow these past few days, so, like, less a devastating migraine that totally immobilizes you, more a single throbbing pinprick, directly behind your eye, driving you to the brink of madness. A relaxing change, don'tcha think?

(As always, this post can be found on my humble site, with all kinds of helpful news links: http://showercapblog.com/while-wee-don-whines-about-work-amy-liz-and-beto-take-turns-whoopin-his-ass/)

So, lots of folks are pissed that their tax refunds have magically vanished under the Trump/Ryan/McConnell tax scam. I'm told Trump voters are particularly upset over this state of affairs, but I can't hear them over the sound of my own voice screaming I FUCKING WELL TOLD YOU SO YOU IDIOT FUCKING RUUUUUUUBES until my vocal cords combust and burn to ash.

Don't worry, though, you'll doubtlessly be pleased with what the GOP donor class is doing with that tax windfall you're not seeing. David Koch is having a 12-foot-tall scale model of his own ballsack sculpted in pure platinum, with precious gemstones for the warts and boils...it's going to be magnificent.

Donnie Two-Scoops is almost as afraid of Elizabeth Warren as he is of stairs, which is why he spends so much time harassing her with anti-Native slurs. With her campaign gaining steam, that's certainly why he felt the need to escalate things, using the presidential pulpit to vomit up a revolting genocide “joke.” If only he were this dedicated to, say, learning how tariffs actually work.

And Spawn of Shart decided to jump on the white supremacist dogpile, adding his own despicable follow-up “gag.” Oh, that Trump family. They're like a shitty KKK improv troupe.

Amusingly, the handful of spineless sycophants who have so foolishly yoked their reputations to the rapidly-sinking Shartanic have fallen back on the “oh, the President is WAY too dumb to make a Trail of Tears reference” defense. The idea that a doddering twit who couldn't pass a sixth grade history test is somehow qualified to hold nuclear disarmament talks with North Korea seems suspect to me, but maybe Brit Hume can walk us through it.

Anyway, E-War responded to the hateful taunts by reminding Little Donnie Dotard that the way things are going, he probably won't even be on the ticket in 2020, on account of being all impeached and imprisoned and what have you. “Shit, old man, I might be running against Nancy Pelosi before this is over.”

And Minnesota Senator Amy Klobuchar announced her own Presidential run in a blinding snowstorm, first by killing a yeti with her bare hands and then delivering a speech from a lectern carved from its skeleton. The mere act of Speaking While Outdoors drew a sharp contrast to the current, infinitely wussier, President, who famously recoiled in terror when faced with a light French drizzle.*

The Marmalade Shartcannon took Klobuchar's speech as an opportunity to show off his scientific chops, tweeting out a shot at climate science, because here was a person (a female person no less) talking about so-called global warming...while it was cold outside! I think Mr. Trump has us here, friends. After all, the overwhelming consensus of the 97% of scientists who say climate change is real is that it will never ever ever ever ever snow again, anywhere, not even once. CHECKMATE LIBTARDS!

We're told Il Douche does all his own make-up, which must be rather time-consuming, considering his tiny, inadequate hands. Anyway, that a man this vain would seek to perpetuate a process that leaves his face looking like rhino's butthole after it sat on a crate of apricot jelly beans really should've been taken as a warning sign, competence-wise.

We also learned that under the Treasonweasel Administration, EPA inspections have fallen dramatically, presumably because everybody's taking turns looking up porn in Scott Pruitt's old soundproof wank booth. What's that? Oh, you think the Environmental Protection Agency should "protect the environment?" Well, that's just what a cuck would say, isn't it? ISN'T IT?

With all the current discussion on various manifestation of bigotry, past and present, let's not neglect the tale of West Virginia State Delegate/Swollen Hate Tick Eric Porterfield, who suggested on Saturday that if a child of his came out as gay, he would drown them in a lake. That slovenly old fuck thought this was HILARIOUS, for the record. Anyhow, while Porterfield likes to sling slurs around and whine that the LGBTQ community is just like the Klan, I think I'll pass on the moral lectures from the dude who makes jokes about murdering his own kids.

So, some pop singer I've never heard of showed up to the Grammys cosplaying as Hairplug Himmler's Big Dumb Wall, desecrating Pink Floyd on top of her general shittiness. Whatever. Still, as the majority of right-wing punditry these days has descended into mere lib-owning trolling (see Shapiro, Ben), expect his lady to have a column in the Federalist by Thursday.

Tangerine Idi Amin seems to be mega-triggered by all the stories about how his lazy ass hardly ever works because he's always golfing or screeching at the talking television box. Fortunately, he has plenty of free time to post whiny tweets about how hard he allegedly works. The right likes to gripe about “virtue signaling,” so I've decided to label this behavior “labor signaling.”

So I guess the company that runs the National Enquirer/thought blackmailing the richest man alive was a good idea consulted the Justice Department about the need to officially register as a Saudi agent for publishing a simperingly worshipful magazine profile of journalist-dismembering thug Mohammed bin Salman. This combination of corporate spycraft and raw sleaze makes me wish Shakespeare was around to write a play or three about it.

Meanwhile, Shart Garfunkel travelled to El Paso to regurgitate a few old lies in his hilariously futile quest for wall funding. Near as I can figure, the argument is supposed to something like “El Paso was a hellhole where the average American was the victim of 3 to 5 violent crimes per day, until a Big Dumb Wall got built, eliminating all illegality overnight, in addition to dispensing soft-serve ice cream to the community's children, free of charge.”

Anyway, Beto's back home to deliver a retort and lead an anti-wall march and probably give an impromptu punk concert where he sings a new song about the need for compassionate immigration reform that sounds like a Bad Brains b-side and then he says “fuck” again and everybody swoons.

I guess a handful of Cult45's frothier loons gathered to form a “human wall” on the border, in support of their Turd Emperor's proposed monument to hate. Look, if we can get these clods to really commit to this, and keep their human chain together, miles from decent society, I think we've found a compromise that works for everybody.

And Democratic governors in both California and New Mexico have pulled National Guard troops back from the border, citing the imaginary nature of the President's “crisis” in doing so. One of the reasons I'm increasingly pleased with my membership in the Democratic Party is that objective reality is a partisan issue now, and I feel we're on the right side of it.

In the background, a deal has been reached on border security, potentially averting another shutdown. Will President Ann Coulter sink the compromise because it it contains nary a penny for wall funding? Will Stephen Miller object because it causes inadequate human suffering? Tune in next time, same Shower time, same Shower channel...

So yeah...all in all, kind of a slow weekend for news. But I'm going out tomorrow night, so I wanted to get a post up for all you lovely people. Oh by the way, can I borrow the car? And maybe hit you up for gas beer money?

*I assume “a light French drizzle” is also the name for some sort of sex act, but that's not what I'm referencing here.

The Week That Was, From SotU to Cindy McCain: White Savior! (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Y'know what? I'm calling bullshit at this point. I'm plugged into the Matrix, and the bug robots are feeding me nothing but Mountain Dew and acid. None of this shit can possibly be real…can it?

(As always, this post is available, with allllll those helpful links, on Cap’s blog site: http://showercapblog.com/the-week-that-was-from-sotu-to-cindy-mccain-white-savior/)

There are apparently no white dudes anywhere in Virginia that didn't spend half of the 1980s in blackface. I guess it's just something you put on before you left the house, with your Keds and your slap bracelets. Lt. Governor Justin Fairfax is probably immune to the blackface problem, but it doesn't look like he'll be around much longer. I have no idea how the fuck we're going to find anybody to govern that state. The line of succession is down to pizza delivery drivers at this point.

The top American general in Syria says the Valor Thief in Chief didn't bother consulting him before making the reckless decision to suddenly withdraw troops from the region, he just came home one day, and Eric Trump was out in the yard, wearing a plastic soldier helmet, telling everybody to pack up and go home.

Still, Assad is surely happy to see us go, and so is his favorite Congressflunky, Tulsi Gabbard, who told the Morning Joe crew she still has posters from Bashar's Tiger Beat photo shoot all over her bedroom. I confess it's sort of confusing to me that Tulsi looks at her record and her beliefs and thinks, “Democrats will vote for me.” I just can't figure out the thought process. It's like setting out to make an apple pie, going to the grocery store, and coming back with a can of cashews, a tire, some cat litter, and a volleyball, and hoping for the best.

Well, because he finally finished his peas and cleaned all the hooker pee out of his bedsheets, Nancy Pelosi finally let the Kompromat Kid have his State of the Union speech. I could, I suppose, nitpick my way through each exaggeration and outright lie, but you must have noticed by now…nobody's really talking about the content of the speech, about any proposed policies or applause lines. We're talking about that kid who fell asleep and that picture of Pelosi clapping.

He's the Dotard Who Cried Wall, and he repeats himself so much he's not even interesting anymore. He’s lost the power to drive the national conversation. If he gets any weaker, he'll need Mick Mulvaney to cut up his overcooked steaks for him.

Still, I suppose some highlights are called for:

Lacking in actual accomplishments to tout, he demanded he be given credit for stopping the war with North Korea that exists exclusively inside his pea-sized reptilian brain, and the United States Congress LAUGHED DIRECTLY IN HIS FACE.

He whined that national peace and prosperity would be threatened if the new Congress insisted on investigating his numerous crimes, as pathetic a “I have nothing to hide and don't you dare look in my closet” moment as you could hope to conjure.

And while I don't generally let that rancid shitmaggot get under my skin, I have to confess one moment stuck in my craw; Hairplug Himmler had the fucking gall to trot out a survivor of the Tree of Life massacre in the very same speech where he repeated the very same phony, hateful, conspiracy theories about caravans and refugees that MOTIVATED THE FUCKING TREE OF LIFE SHOOTER. I'd say, “have you no decency, sir?” But that's a stupid question, isn't it?

Anyway, Stacey Abrams strolled in and blew the old fart out of the water without breaking a sweat. Her rebuttal was the sort of speech that makes you proud to be a Democrat, and the juxtaposition between her hope, clarity, and resolve and Wee Don's sullen, dishonest, hate-mongering couldn't have been any starker.

Meanwhile, Howard Schultz, even in the face of relentless opposition, continues his tireless crusade for the great civil rights issue of our time; the Periodic Criticism of Billionaires. Howard finds the very term “billionaire” to be practically a slur, you see, and would rather folks use phrases like “person of means” or "Pathetically Out-of-Touch-American." Anyway, he should probably start measuring the Oval Office drapes.

Extra congrats go out to the Sublime Mr. Schultz for arriving at the defeated, depressing, Jeb(!)ian “please clap” moment in less than two weeks. Most candidates at least get out of the parking lot before running out of gas, but you're something special, Howard.

The Bonespur Buttplug’s bullheaded pursuit of the Big Dumb Wall Nobody Wants has encountered a new foe: butterflies. Yeah, they're trying to bulldoze a butterfly sanctuary to throw up some of that sweet sweet border barrier. That's a little on-the-nose, Disney-villain-wise, don'tcha think? Butterflies? What next, are we gonna walk in on Stephen Miller casually dismembering Care Bears?

Well, even as they worked to annihilate universally-beloved natural beauty, the Shart Administration got back to their populist roots, shredding Obama-era regulations on payday lenders. Surely now that the scummiest grifters preying upon the nation's working poor are newly empowered to bleed their victims dry, American greatness has finally been restored as promised.

Shithead hired yet another Fux Nooz host to work in the federal government, and at the risk of stoking controversy, future Presidents probably shouldn't dole out important posts to the people they like on the magical teevee box. Heaven help us, at least he watches news…the next Trump may well be a sitcom junkie…imagine Kelsey Grammer explaining he's only an actor right up until the moment Frasier Crane gets sworn in as HHS Secretary.

GALAXY BRAIN: Maybe the solution to our problems is to do the vetting over at News Corp! Before they ever get tapped for government service! God, that's brilliant! Screen out the Whitakers and the Gorkas BEFORE THEY SHOW UP ON TELEVISION! You can mail me my Nobel Prize.

Okay, make sure you're sitting down, because this next story is AMAZING. Gather ‘round, children, as I tell ye the Tale of Cindy McCain: White Savior.

Yes, Cindy was at the airport, and in the White Republicanest Thing That Has Ever Happened, she looked at a random woman and her child, decided their skin tones didn't match quite to her liking, and CALLED THE COPS ON THEM TO ACCUSE THE MOM OF TRAFFICKING HER CHILD. Just for a little Smug Superiority garnish on this Racist Horror Salad, she went on a radio show to brag about her heroism, only to have Phoenix police call her out on her misguided meddling.

HOLY FUCKBALLS Cindy, you have taken white privilege to a heretofore unknown extreme. Surely you will transcend mere human whiteness, and evolve to a higher plane of being, perhaps as the background of an Ice Age cartoon. Congratulations on thrusting a potentially life-threatening law enforcement encounter on total strangers because you were stupid and bored. Please build a catapult and launch yourself into the sun before your idle self-righteousness gets somebody killed.

Moving over to some good news for a change, the government's open, the committee assignments have been handed out, and the Oversight Renaissance has begun to flourish in earnest!

We had a hearing on gun violence, for the first time since 2011! It was going great until Bipedal Colon Fungus Matt Gaetz figured it was an appropriate setting to get into a fight with a couple of Parkland parents.

Gaetz is such a magnificent little Trump stooge; stupid, spiteful, and as obsequious as an Igor stand-in from a Looney Tunes short. You sort of imagine him calling the President up in the middle night, going, “My wife said the dishwasher broke and we needed a new one, but I told her the REAL solution was to BUILD THE WALL! Aren't I a good boy, SAY I'M A GOOD BOY MR. TRUMP.”

Meanwhile, Steve Mnuchin is “negotiating” with Maxine Waters regarding testimony before the House Financial Services Committee, which she chairs*. I'd be careful, little fellah. Maxine'll march you right down Pennsylvania Avenue by the ear if she has to. Maybe even if she doesn't.

A certain Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor is not taking all this new-fangled accountability well, and he's responding by doing what he does best: whining like five-year-old on Twitter. I think he really believes “presidential harassment” is an actual crime, or at the very least he’s upset he didn't make it one before he lost the House.

But Adam Schiff keeps right on wielding that House Intelligence Committee gavel like Mjolnir, and it is so sweet to watch. First order of business? Sending a fat stack of transcripts over to Bob Mueller's office with all the various instances of perjury helpfully color-coded for prosecutorial ease n’ comfort.

Adam's burrowed ten miles under Dorito Mussolini's skin, staffing up with all kinds of new talent, including folks with National Security Council experience, which has Little Donnie Two-Scoops jumping at shadows, fearing that Schiff is poaching talent from the White House itself! Don't worry, Shart-Shart…I'm sure the Secret Service agents you charge to pee while they risk their lives for you are perfectly loyal.

There's even an investigation into potential ratfuckery by the National Rifle Association! Why, Grundle-Munching Death Merchant Wayne LaPierre himself has been ordered to produce documents for the congressional probe , though he has requested extra time to wipe the blood of countless innocent children from his files, if only to make them more legible.

Perhaps jealous of the all the Hawt XXX Oversight Action going down in the House, the Department of Justice announced a new investigation of their own, trying to figure out precisely why Alex Acosta doled out a punishment to serial child molester Jeffrey Epstein that amounted to telling him he was a very naughty boy and sending him on him to bed with supper, only no dessert. Acosta, for those who no can no longer decipher their scorecard in the middle of this unceasing shitstorm, is the current serving Secretary of Labor, which I imagine fills his hours with interesting tasks and challenges as he awaits eternal damnation.

We learned Precocious Paul Manafort kept on fuckin’ around in Ukraine and lying and whatnot even after he got indicted, because…I don't even know, because he thinks the law is something his parents made up, like Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy? We're gonna find out Paul was doing crimes on his phone at the literal moment the judge was sentencing him. What is life like at the Manafort house? “Honey did you finish folding the laundry or were you doing crimes all night?” "Um…crimes. Sorry.”

I have to take a moment here to confess that my mind is still totally fucking blown by the Cindy McCain thing. How utterly jacked on wine coolers and self-regard do you have to be to look at a mixed-race family and, without a split-second's self-examination, decide it's time to live out your Underground Railroad fantasy? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, CINDY?

So, I guess David Pecker and the National Enquirer tried to blackmail Jeff Bezos (who you may recognize as the richest human being in all history) with dick pics, but then Bezos whipped out his actual dick, which is Lots of Fucking Money and All the Power that Comes With It, and slapped the Enquirer across the face with it several times.

I think Mr. Pecker should consider giving L.A. Confidential a quick watch, if only the Danny DeVito scenes. The moral of the story is NEVER FUCK WITH A DUDE WHOSE ACTUAL DICK IS ALL THE MONEY IN THE WORLD. (It's probably not super healthy for us to be cheering for a billionaire, but hey, the enemy of my enemy, right?)

Anyway, there isn't going to be a National Enquirer in 2020, which, because we live in Hell, actually deals a fairly consequential blow to the re-election prospects of the current President of the United States.

We learned that murdering Jamal Khashoggi was actually a long-standing fantasy for Saudi Prince Mohammed bin Salman, and U.S. intelligence had intercepted a conversation where he discussed it. Mike Fucking Pompeo was probably hand-feeding him grapes and cutting the crusts off his sandwiches at the time. In an administration that debases America daily, few things bring greater shame on us than watching our Secretary of State scrape and bow to this pettiest of thugs.

I tell you what, I bet a lot of folks in Shartopia are sweatin’ bullets now that the feds are investigating the (hilariously-under-attended) inaugural. Near as I can tell, every influence-hungry shitbag on Earth pulled up to the sewer with a dump truck full of cash, and told the various rats and slugs to divvy it up among themselves however they saw fit. But now the subpoenas are flyin', the fingers are pointin', and the Shower Cap is laughin’ his goddamn ass off.

And some SCOTUS rulings came down, including a truly despicable Silly Muslim, Religious Liberty Isn't Guaranteed for YOU decision that makes you hope nobody asks Neil Gorsuch to give the Fugitive Slave Law another look.

Brett Kavanaugh enjoyed a devious little snicker at Susan Collins’ expense, chuckling, "I told you I think women are people and you totally believed me! Timmy and Squi are never gonna believe this!” and then, given the opportunity to rule on abortion rights for the very first time, he could scarcely contain his desire to start passing out Handmaid costumes and chastity belts. Who could have seen this coming except anyone and everyone?

I never get sick of stories about the Drumpf Cabal using donor money to pay their legal fees. This time it's young Jar-Jar dipping his hand into the cookie jar, to the tune of 100,000 cookies. Y'know, I want to feel sorry for the people who send this smirking grifter their hard-earned money, begging him to make America great again, while he attacks their livelihoods with shutdowns and tariffs and shameless upwards redistribution of wealth, I really do. But then I remember the child concentration camps, and I say, “Fuck it. Take ‘em for every penny, you Vampire Scrotal Growth. Mueller'll get it all back in the end.”

David Farenthold reveals that the REAL caravan is the one transporting a steady stream of undocumented immigrants to work at Sharty McFly’s tacky-ass New Jersey golf resort! Given this shocking new information, the “build a wall"-chanting fanatics of MAGA nation, forced to confront their Turd Emperor's hypocrisy, abandoned him en masse, and JUST KIDDING they all still think Q is about to have Obama and Rosie O'Donnell burned at the stake for sex crimes.

I see Candace Owens took a break from assuring large crowds of white people that her “Blexit” movement is going to catch on any minute now to…praise Hitler. Folks, I don't think it's really my place to dole out advice, as I am a drunken buffoon in a bathrobe and mask, but if, at this late date, this is still unclear to you…NEVER PRAISE HITLER. No, not even if you happen to admire his taste in table settings.

Matt Whitaker appeared before the House Judiciary Committee to raise awareness of the dangerous buffoon that has been running the Department of Justice since Jeff Sessions got fired. Watching him dodging and stalling was like watching…like, have you ever seen a world-class acrobat, completely in the zone, or an Olympic-level slalom skier, weaving around with poetic grace? It was the opposite of that. That boy is DUMB. I wouldn't make him Acting Shift Manager at Pizza Hut While I Step Out for a Smoke.

Now, at this point, you probably think you've taken some bad acid and fallen into a Yes album cover, but I haven't even gotten to the weird shit yet. You want weird shit? I mean, legit weird-ass shit? How about some Jerome Corsi suing Roger Stone shit? How about Corsi-claiming-Stone-is-trying-to-give-him-a-stroke-so-he-can't-testify-level shit! PEYOTE AND TIDE PODS ALL AROUND, MOTHERFUCKERS!

Has the news reduced to a gibbering mess, tarred with madness and feathered with despair? Let me snap the last thread of your sanity and push you over the ledge into the void once and for all: a politician in Florida resigned this week because she was LICKING DUDES’ FACES. We have arrived at the FACE-LICKING portion of the program, people. Please secure your own oxygen mask before attending to any children, because this is real life and there's no way off.

Shit, y’all. If you haven't started drinking yet, get to fuckin’ work. We still have to drink to the mighty John Dingell, and I expect that'll take all weekend.

*Isn't that awesome?

Executive Time Bandits, Moonwalking Morons, and Ronny Jackson is Back Because of Course He Is.(F/SC)

Wow, what a weekend, right? We had a big fancy football game, and kicked off a new nuclear arms race! Maroon 5 was there, which I’m pretty sure was mentioned somewhere in the Book of Revelation. Anyhow, read my blog before the world ends, is what I'm saying.

(And if you read it on my blog site, you'll get all those nifty news links: http://showercapblog.com/executive-time-bandits-moonwalking-morons-and-ronny-jackson-is-back-because-of-course-he-is/)

I hate to see friendships fall apart, y'know? Matt Bevin and Kim Davis used to be such good friends, back in those halcyon days of weaponizing the power of the state to dehumanize American citizens, and deny them their basic rights. But money changes everything, and now that the $225,000 bill for her vicious little attempt at theocracy has come due, a rift has opened. How very sad. I may weep.

The Failing New York Times reports that Deutsche Bank turned down the Grand Wizard Grifter's request for a loan during the 2016 campaign. Now, DB was the last financial institution on Earth willing to loan that crooked old fuck any money, so isn't it neat to find out we elected a President who was one bad day away from desperately trying to pawn a fake Time Magazine cover for cash?

Republicans across the nation are expressing gratitude to Virginia Governor-for-now Ralph Northam, relieved that someone else is in trouble for being racist/extremely stupid for a change. You have to admit, “I'm not the guy in blackface in this photograph though I initially thought I might be because of this other time I was a guy in blackface anyway I'm not resigning” was a truly legendary moment in failed damage control. My only regret is that Northam's wife stopped him from moonwalking right in the middle of that mega-cringe press conference, because you could see in his eyes that the opportunity to show off his moves would've really brightened his otherwise-trying day.

As I write this, Governor Michael Jackson Costume is still clinging on, like the ring around the tub in that house you rented in college. Ralph, do us all a favor, and moonwalk your sorry ass right out of the governor's mansion, and our lives, forever.

Let's not move on without sparing a hearty Go Fuck Yourself to every Republican hopping on the “Shame on your racism, Ralph Northam, you must resign” train. Virginia GOP, after Ed Gillespie's repugnant campaign, you went even further and ran neo-Confederate Corey Stewart, who sits in a department store Santa's lap every year and asks for a slave, against Tim Kaine. Take all the seats.

Ted Cruz, who made Steve “Some of my best friends are Austria Nazis” King his national campaign co-chair in 2016, thinks he has the moral authority to weigh in? That opinion is shittier than your beard, son, and that is one shitty, shitty, beard you've got.

So, President Used Enema Water has his annual physical coming up, and he's frantically trying to bring disgraced “doctor” Ronny Jackson back to lie about his weight again, because that's the sort of thing your Commander-in-Chief thinks about instead of learning how tariffs work. The lesson here is that you too can be promoted to the highest levels of American government, even if you drink on the job and dispense medication so haphazardly as to earn the nickname “Candyman,” if you're just willing to indulge a vain old man's fantasy that yes, that overlong necktie really is quite slimming, sir.

Time Magazine reports that the Marmalade Shartcannon's national security briefers are concerned that he's endangering national security because he doesn’t listen to the American intelligence community, cuz they're boring and frequently contradict the talkin’ faces from the magic teevee box. I don't want to seem alarmist, but “President undermines national security” feels like it ought to be a bigger story, don'tcha think?

Last November, the good people of Utah voted to expand Medicaid under the ACA, but Republicans in the state legislature said “Instead of what you clearly told us you wanted, how about we do something more expensive and less effective?” It's Paul LePage in Maine all over again. The American people are all, “Hey, we really want health care, cuz it turns out being alive is pretty great and we want more of it,” and Republicans go, “Look, you filthy takers, count yourselves lucky we don't just chop y’all up for mulch for the fields around Ann Romney's dressage horse stables, 'kay?”

So, some disgruntled Shart House staffer leaked several weeks’ worth of Hairplug Himmler's daily schedules, showing he spends a third of his time watching television with his thumb up his ass, another third working with Mick Mulvaney to extract said thumb from said ass, and perhaps an odd moment here and there grudgingly tending to his duties as President of the United States.

It's absolutely hilarious that these assclowns imagine that anybody believes La Grande Merde uses these massive blocks of “executive time” to access his Super Special Secret Donnie Prezidenting Powers. We can literally line up his tweets directly with whatever the blithering morons on Fux n’ Fiendz happen to be blathering about, we've been doing it for months. “Executive time” my ass; he's sitting on the shitter googling “how do umbrellas work?”

Hey, speaking of taxpayer money getting pissed down the drain in the form of Trump spokesjags trying to gaslight us over the stupidest imaginable shit, an anonymous official told NYT that Littlefinger's creepy, obviously unnatural, spray tan is really the result of “good genes.” Dude, no. There is no “My face looks like a fossilized scrotum that got trapped on the Planters Cheez Balls assembly line” gene. That is not a thing. Shut the fuck up.

So Tangerine Idi Amin got an interview broadcast during the Super Bowl and of course he lied a lot and said a bunch of dumb shit and claimed Nancy Pelosi eats puppies and flosses afterwards with their adorable little puppy tendons, but did you notice something? Nobody really paid attention. Nobody's talking about what he said. “Oh, is the doddering old twit bellowing about his wall again? Somebody give him a glass of warm milk and send him to bed.” It's all just white noise now.

The only thing we ARE discussing from that sloppy tirade? Donnie Dotard's comments on how he wouldn't want his son playing football because it's too dangerous, and you're like holy shit, he's actually RIGHT about something for a change, oh well even a stopped clock is right twice a day. Only that means he's only going to be right about ONE MORE THING the whole rest of his Presidency, and why couldn't it have been about something like NATO or trade instead of severe head trauma?

Who wants a heapin’ helpin’ of the BANALITY OF EVIL, because we just brought a fresh tub of it out to the buffet! Yes, the Turdmaggot Administration, fighting a lawsuit demanding that they reunite the families they separated in what I'll remind you was an act of state-sponsored terrorism, whines that they don't WANNA because it would be too hard. "We have done this evil thing, yes, but setting it right would require effort, and thus we would prefer not to, sorry about the trauma except not really.” It's like a little kid whining about cleaning his room, only with atrocity instead of dirty socks and Legos.

Democrats in the Senate are preparing a bill that would prevent Shartolo Colon from repurposing disaster relief funds for his Big Dumb Wall, because apparently we need legislation to keep our President from stealing money from hurricane victims to finance personal vanity projects now. America is so great again, you guys.

The real wall, of course, is the one the Sunny D-Bag keeps beating his head against in demanding money for his wall. Unsatisfied with his cratering approval numbers, or the public's repeated, loud, rejection, he’s sending troops to the border again, because that worked out so fucking well last time. The next President should have a short term memory, I think, as well as the equivalent capacity for learning of a laboratory rat. Call me a radical, that's how I see it.

And the Velveeta Vulgarian officially nominated shady-ass lobbyist David Bernhardt to take over the Interior Department after Ryan Zinke looted it of everything down to the sugar cubes in the break room. While Bernhardt is precisely the sort of unscrupulous swamp monster we've come to expect from Fat Q*Bert's cabinet appointments, I regret to inform you that he does not, at this time, appear to be funny, and thus this segment will be presented without jokes.

Looks like Rinat Akhmetshin, a Russian lobbyist who attended Son of Shart's famous Please Daddy Can I Commit Some Treason Trump Tower meeting, received a suspicious, mysterious, half-million-dollar infusion around the time of said meeting. Anyway, since we know there was NO COLLUSION (I ask you, would the President lie?), you have to admit these coincidences are getting wackier and wackier. Sid Caesar's gonna pop up any minute now.

President Crotchrot's legal troubles keep mounting, as federal prosecutors subpoenaed his inaugural committee for...well, it looks like basically everything. Anyway, you should play a game tonight, where you sit around with your friends and try to list all the various investigations and lawsuits this cheap crook and his cheap crook associates are facing. I confess I've lost track. I think Mueller is going to lose track when he presents his results. “Sorry your honor, I get my money-laundering oligarchs mixed up sometimes.”

With the rescheduled-due-to-the-President's-cucking-at-the-hands-of-Speaker-Pelosi State of the Union speech just around the corner, I hope you'll spare a thought for the poor, downtrodden, fact-checkers of the world. Between six and ten fact-checkers die of exhaustion during every major Trump speech, and the State of the Union is particularly grueling. Leave a bowl of water out on your back porch for any fact-checkers who may live in your neighborhood.

And remember, there is no SotU drinking game that won't kill you should you faithfully adhere to the rules. Be careful out there, Shower Captives...

Well, Measles is Back, but at Least We Can All Laugh at Howard Schultz (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Trapped inside due to the bitter cold, with nothing but the news to pass the time, I assure you I have gone quite mad. It's like The Shining, only much more racist. Let's plow through it, so we can all get to the weekend...

(As usual, you can find this post, with all those helpful links, at: http://showercapblog.com/measles-is-back-and-the-government-is-secretly-shipping-toxic-waste-but-at-least-we-can-all-laugh-at-howard-schultz/)

So, this week, the President of the United States attacked his own intelligence agency chiefs for accurately assessing the threats facing the nation, in contrast to the baseless lies he pulls out of his ass for the sake of what he perceives to be political advantage. That is a thing that happened, here in the real world. He's mad at the intelligence community for prioritizing national defense over backing him up on his bullshit.

We focus a lot on the incompetence and awfulness of this regime, but I think we should take time to appreciate the miracle that this dolt hasn't gotten us all killed yet. I'm certainly grateful. As a great man once said, “enjoy every sandwich.”

Anyway, in the latest installment of Orwell For Absolute Fucking Morons, Dorito Mussolini insists the chiefs were “totally misquoted and totally taken out of context” in their (checks notes) public testimony that was broadcast on national television. It's like he doesn't even care enough to work at the gaslighting anymore. The spark is gone, is all I'm sayin’. I want a divorce.

Hey, I have a new favorite Republican! Yeah, Congressman Mark Walker introduced the BLAKE Act, named for everybody's least favorite pervy pajama-clad prick, aiming to make it illegal to lobby Congress if you happen to have any outstanding taxpayer-funded sexual-harassment payoff debts. That's some top-notch legislative trolling, Mr. Walker. I salute you.

So, when I started seeing the story circulating, about how Weehands McNodick had a previously undisclosed meeting with Daddy Vlad Putin at the G-20, with no American note-taker or translator present, I wondered why this old news was making the rounds again. No, Cap, this is a DIFFERENT Putin meeting without an American note-taker or translator. A whole new one. We need to work out some sort of system to differentiate these note-taker-and-translator-less meetings, because this shit is getting confusing. Anyway, NO COLLUSION, clearly.

Susan Collins went on teevee to hem and haw about whether or not she'd endorse Baron Golfin von Fatfuk in 2020 and do you have any idea how hard it is to write about Susan Collins and her incessant, theatrical, dithering without invoking Lucy and the football? It's totally accurate, it's right fucking there, but you used it last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and so did everyone else, because that's the whole gag with Lucy and football, ISN'T IT?

Sarah Slanders says she thinks God wanted her lazy, stupid, hateful, thieving, lying, pussy-grabbing boss to become President. God. GOD. Of course, growing up in the Huckabee household, “God” is a humor-butchering, dog-murdering, child-molester-enabling, deity, so this kinda makes sense.

There's actually been quite a lot of religious delusion in Shartopia lately, with Steve Bannon claiming he was “doing the Lord's work” in serving his Turd Emperor. Presumably the Lord was primarily interested in getting rid of all the gin.

Great Caesar's Ghost, it was fuckin’ COLD this week, wasn't it? It was so fuckin’ cold, at least 21 people died, but Kentucky Governor Matt Bevin is so eager to lose his reelection campaign this November that he called his state's schoolchildren whiny little sissies for taking a day off to avoid the life-threatening conditions. Bevin briefly explored the idea of going door to door to call each individual child in Kentucky “cuck” to their face, but he quickly discovered that it was in fact really fuckin' cold outside.

In addition, the polar vortex presented Republicans with an irresistible opportunity to demonstrate their proud ignorance of all things scientific, creating some spectacularly amusing self-owns in their quest to use the weather to dunk on clean energy. My gift to you tonight is the glorious smugness on Jesse Watters’ face as he trumpets his belief that solar panels absorb heat rather than light. Also, Tucker Carlson seems to believe that coldness somehow destroys wind, some sort of supernatural meteorological version of rock-paper-scissors, maybe?

Ultimately the greatest renewable resource in America is the idiocy of the conservative movement, and we need to find some way to harness that shit.

Hey look, measles is back. Measles. Here we sit, comfortably atop the food chain, confident in our superiority as we put a game show host in charge of our nuclear arsenal and un-eradicate diseases. If I were an eager, young, up-and-coming, species looking to leap up the evolutionary ladder, this is when I'd make my move.

The Howard Schultz campaign is going remarkably well, assuming that Schultz is running for President of Getting Dragged. Oddly, the slogan Yes We Can (Keep Howard Schultz's Taxes Low) has failed to go viral, and if this doddering old nitwit sticks around, I honestly may need a whole second blog to chronicle the turds that roll out of his mouth.

Tangerine Idi Amin's “spiritual advisor,” Paula White, says God will beat you up unless you send Paula White your entire salary from January. I'm not personally inclined to believe this, but I want you to have the information you need to make this decision for yourself. If Paula's God is also the Huckabee family's God, there could be real consequences here. Anyway, if you don't buy me a beer, God's gonna rip your dick off and feed it to the pigs.

Lindsey Graham has wasted no time in throwing the full force of his new position as Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman behind efforts to address the greatest injustice in the American legal system today: the oppression of Roger Stone. Lindsey wants answers, dammit! WHY was Stone arrested JUST because he seems to have broken several laws? WHY did the FBI come to his house to arrest him, rather than simply sending a respectful invitation, on scented stationary, perhaps accompanied by a mint or a truffle? WHY is his pointy little head so pointy?

Anyway, Roger is potentially facing a gag order from the judge in his case, which, for a such a loudmouth doofus, may well constitute cruel and unusual punishment. By the way, my current plan is to go back to school to obtain a journalism degree so I can land a prison interview with this sanctimonious ratfucker where I don't ask any questions, I just chuckle and eat a streak and maybe some key lime pie right in front of him.

Well, Virginia Governor Ralph Northam has come out for legalizing abortion a full five years after a child's birth, ideally in some sort of satanic ritual sacrifice scenario, to hear Republicans tell it. Anyway, before I could finish this paragraph, Ralphie landed in much deeper trouble, thanks to the worst yearbook scandal this side of Roy Moore. Now I'm just waiting to see if he resigns before I get this post up tonight. (So far, nope.)

Now that the government is open and the President has started sleeping in his new quarters in the doghouse in Nancy Pelosi's backyard, House Democrats got to work on their first major bill, a pretty-dang-awesome package of pro-Democracy, anti-corruption goodness. Republicans are...not taking it well. “No fair!” whinged Jim Jordan, “If you let people vote we'll be held accountable for all the shitty things we do! Just because we have massively unpopular ideas and proposals doesn't mean we shouldn't have the power to enact them!”

Mitch McConnell is particularly incensed at the idea of making Election Day a national holiday, calling it a “power grab.” Yes, Wrinkly Gamera, that is the whole point. It IS a power grab. We're looking to seize power away from the Kochs and the Mercers and the Adelsons and all your other supervisors, and put it back in the hands of the American people. To some, this is called “Democracy.”

Somehow, the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits, despite suffering the two biggest defeats of his political career (that's the midterms and the shutdown, for those of you keeping score at home) thanks to his bonehead pursuit of the Big Dumb Wall, keeps right on mindlessly regurgitating the same old arguments that have failed him so many times already. Like, you know how in Jurassic Park, the raptors never strike the same part of the electric fence twice? Donnie is the raptor who gets shocked, then puts the wire in his mouth. Then, when he wakes up an hour later, charred and still smoking, he puts the wire up his ass.

Because they are geniuses, Hairpiece Himmler and his party have been spreading news of a massive Fentanyl bust at the border as evidence that the wall is in fact not dumb. Yes, the bust that was made at a legal entry point, right where everybody says the drugs are coming in, using existing, non-wall, methods. Nothing says “drastic new measures are necessary” quite like the current system working perfectly.

And of course Fat Q*Bert still thinks he can get around Congress by declaring a state of emergency. He just needs Mitch to tell him how long the legislative process will take to play out, so he can pencil the emergency into his day-planner.

Bad news, everybody! The entire Mueller investigation has been revealed as a fraudulent witch hunt, because the previously unknown recipient of a call Turdmaggot, Jr. made to blocked numbers around the time of his famous Wanna Buy Some Treason meeting turned out to be not his dirtbag father, but rather his dirtbag father's Russia-connected chum. No, it doesn't make any sense to me either, but Spawn of Shart is taking a victory lap like he won the Super Bowl and five Oscars in the same night.

Speaking of the Bobadook, now he's telling us that th'Russians weaponized material obtained in the discovery process in a disinformation campaign designed to undermine the investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election. I don't want to seem partisan, but in light of these ongoing attacks from a hostile foreign power, it would be a nice thing if the President could maybe side with the United States in this conflict. For a change.

A whistleblower, who let America know that Jared Kushner has no fucking business with a high-level security clearance on account of his shadiness, has been suspended without pay. No consequences for Jar-Jar, of course, who will continue to pore through the nation's classified intelligence for whatever tidbits he can sell to his journalist-dismembering buddy, MBS.

In an act of rat-bastardry so extreme you could only call it “Trumpian,” the Department of Energy threw the state of Nevada a surprise party, only it wasn't a stripper that popped out of the cake, but half a ton of radioactive waste! Rick Perry would rather ask for forgiveness than permission, it turns out. Or fuck forgiveness, enjoy your plutonium, and no, there's no return address on the box.

Mike Pompeo, as part of his ongoing effort to make American improbably nostalgic for a blundering goon like Rex Tillerson, announced that the Shart Administration is pulling out of a nuclear arms treaty with Russia, presumably because nobody thinks Dr. Strangelove* is scary anymore. First Donald Trump, now a nuclear arms race? Why are we bringing back all the shittiest parts of the 1980's? What's next? A prime time Manimal reboot?

You may have believed that the Presidential Medal of Freedom was reserved for the most accomplished among us, a truly priceless honor. NOPE. Turns out, you can get one for the low low price of 500 grand, provided it's appropriately laundered through a legal defense fund for the crooked associates of a suitably corrupt-n'-criminal President. I get it if this makes you spontaneously burst out singing “God Bless the USA,” but please respect your neighbors.

In the midst of all the fuckery and madness, it's always healthy to find reasons to laugh. In that spirit, I'll leave you with a bit of news that broke during the drafting of this post. It's Howard Schultz's first set of approval numbers. WARNING: set down your beverage before clicking.

*or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
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