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TheFerret

TheFerret's Journal
TheFerret's Journal
July 1, 2020

Y'Know, If Putin Put Bounties on Confederate Monuments, He'd Be in Trouble (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Anybody else spending their idle quarantine hours trying to figure some way to tunnel into the neighboring reality where Hillary Clinton is President and we can all eat at restaurants by now? No? Well, that’s totally why I’m slashing at the air in front of me with an LSD-laced ice cream scoop, it’s not like I’ve gone completely insane or anything. But as long as you’re trapped in here with me, we may as well hit the news, right?

(Find this post, in living color, and with all those nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/yknow-if-putin-put-bounties-on-confederate-monuments-hed-be-in-trouble/)

I guess the big headline is that COVID-19 keeps on ripping America a new asshole pretty much daily. Hell, there’re so many newly-ripped assholes you’re going to get sick of newly-ripped assholes. We’re basically Argus, only with assholes instead of eyes. That’s how much this virus is fucking our shit up.

Yes, we remain incapable of controlling this outbreak even though we figured out how to control it, because millions of allegedly adult Americans have constructed their entire identities around that impulse a toddler has when it doesn’t want to eat its peas. Well, freedumb isn’t free, and states like Florida, Arizona, and Texas have spiraled out of control, with some communities even brushing up against their hospital capacity limits, despite having been HANDED A GIFT-WRAPPED MANUAL ON HOW TO AVOID THIS EXACT FUCKING SITUATION.

Now, I know it’s been difficult to wrap your head around the fact that the President of the United States decided fighting this pandemic just wasn’t his fucking job, but when you see the shit he DOES invest time and energy into, it’s a miracle your brain doesn’t dynamite its way out of your skull and run screaming into the night. What I’m trying to tell you is that even as he’s further scaled back the government’s non-response to COVID-19, the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits somehow found a moment to issue a new executive order aiming to crack down on the scourge of Confederate monument-toppling.

Oh well. It’s been a good fight, but surely this means the Apprentice in Hell has been renewed for four more years. No doubt any votes the Velveeta Vulgarian may have lost by drowning the economy in a Wal-Mart urinal or negligently getting tens of thousands of Americans killed will be overwhelmed by the avalanche of unchecked populism inspired by such a fierce defense of Dead White Dudes Who Are Famous for Losing Fights.

But even as the Loser King battled to save his loser statues, the state of Mississippi finally, FINALLY voted to remove the stars n’ bars of the Confederacy from their flag, joining the 20th century at last. (They’re not quite ready for the 21st. Baby steps.) That the Game Show Grand Wizard’s veryfine tantrums have only accelerated the destruction of these pathetic glorifications of his failed, hate-warped “culture” makes you almost wish his brain worked well enough to comprehend irony.

During an interview with screeching hatemarmot Sean Hannity, Wee Donnie Two-Scoops was unable to articulate a rationale for seeking a second term, partially because his addled, deteriorating brain is barely capable of articulating an order in the Wendy’s drive-thru, partially because he somehow stopped himself from admitting “I’m just trying to stay out of jail, bro.” Trump 2020: Yes the Plane is Crashing and Yes It’s on Fire, But White People Get All the First Class Seats is basically where we’re at now.

And yeah, while hard at work directing the coronavirus response, excuse me, that doesn’t seem right...oh yes, I see my mistake, let me start again. While golfing, the Pusillanimous Pussy-Grabber approvingly retweeted a video of one of his dirtbag supporters shouting “white power” at protesters before scooting away on his little golf cart; truly Trumpism is an entire lifestyle brand, basically Goop for the hateful, with slightly fewer products designed to smell like a crotch.

So we got to do that silly little dance again, where Shart-O the Clown and his allies get all indignant that anyone would dare suggest he’s racist, even though his entire re-election strategy has devolved into Yes I Suck at Absolutely Everything But I Will Keep Hurting Black and Brown People and honestly, while I’m exhausted by the never-ending atrocity, I’m getting pretty sick of the bad theatre, too.

As always, a few pundits, desperately clinging to obsolete ideas about long-abandoned norms, keep on insisting Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot is playing 12-dimensional chess, distracting America from the Russian bounty scandal with a shocking tweet; that he’s something more than just a terrified, Adderall-saturated primate flinging turds at the wall as fast as he can shit them, to which I say we are now talking about BOTH the white power tweet AND the Putin bounties, so unless Wisconsin contains ten or twenty thousand voters who were going to stay home unless one candidate really distinguished himself in the twin fields of racism and treason, I don’t think this one is playing out in Shart Garfunkel’s favor.

But yes, fallout from Bounties on Our troops? Sounds Great Vlad!-gate continues to mount, because, in perhaps the last area of bipartisan consensus in Washington, even Republicans don’t believe American soldiers should be hunted for sport. The Shart House initially tried screaming “fake news,” because there are only so many settings on the see n’ say wheel Sarah Slanders passed down to Kayleigh McEnany, but that didn’t work as more and more outlets confirmed the initial story from the Failing New York Times.

As more and more stories surfaced, the date President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster would have received this intelligence in a briefing kept moving further and further back, and his continuing obsequious deference to Putin (“Hey Vlad! Vlad! You wanna come to the G7 at my house, Vlad? I can TOTALLY get you back in, buddy!”) seemed even more treacherous in context.

The current defense seems to be “C’mon, everybody knows the President is way too lazy and stupid to read,” which is...honestly, plausible. Shit, I think they might have us there, folks. The “too incompetent to be criminal” defense has served the GOP well since at least the days of Alberto Gonzales.

Because he possesses the intellect of a hamster’s rectum, the Candycorn Skidmark has come to the conclusion that his current electoral troubles have grown not from the lethally botched pandemic response, or the Great Depression-level unemployment, or the fact that his campaign strategy has been to personally give hand jobs to every Proud Boy, Boogaloo Brat and Klansman in America, but simply from failing to hang a sufficiently childish nickname on Joseph Robinette Biden, Jr. This is literally what he spends his time doing while we’re dying by the thousands.

Anyway asshole, to solve your little dilemma, when you’re petitioning for your pardon, “Mr. Biden, sir” will do fine.

Mike Pants keeps on holding maskless public events, and COVID-19 keeps on being completely unimpressed, probably because it’s too busy devouring the smorgasbord of freedumb-crazed dipshits that keep jumping in front of it like coked-up lemmings.

It truly does seem like everyone connected even tangentially to the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus is hellbent on refusing to learn the widely-accepted lessons on containing this virus. South Dakota’s Republidolt Governor, Kristi Noem, brags that they won’t being doing any of that stupid cuck “social distancing” crap at Sharty McFly’s Mount Rushmore shindig this Friday, and we can all see the tantrums coming when Jacksonville, Florida’s new mask mandate collides with his planned My Father Never Loved Me I Guess the Adulation of Hateful Strangers Will Just Have to Do RNC speech. Campers, there was an outbreak among his staff at the Tulsa rally; learn from that or don’t, it’s up to you.   

Stochastic terrorism: it’s not just for 4chan-addicted incels anymore! No, just as heavy metal morphed into commercial power balladry to conquer strip mall music shops, now Dylann Roof has given way to Mark and Patricia McCloskey, a couple of doughy suburbanite John Wicks* with Bloomingdale’s accounts and military-grade firearms. See, if you’re rich and white enough, the Lawn Which Others Must Keep Off Of expands to wheresoever you deign to cast your eyes, and the mere proximity of the peasant classes, however peaceful, is more than enough to justify threatening mass murder, though it may be necessary to pay the help overtime to cleanse said lawn of the resultant gore, alas and alack.

Iran issued an arrest warrant for the Marmalade Shartcannon over that one terrorist murder of a high-ranking military official he ordered and yeah, I admit I indulged in a quick “it’s so crazy, it just might work!” fantasy. It was great, I recommend it. Seriously, it’s been a rough week, just take a quick moment to visualize Fuckhead shitting himself in an Iranian prison. See? Brightened your day right up, didn’t it?

One of Government Cheese Goebbels’ biggest internet fan clubs,  r/The_Donald on Reddit, has finally been banned for hate speech and harassment, because the political movement built, or at least harnessed, by the current sitting President of the United States is a white supremacist rage cult unfit to mingle with decent folk even in the darkest, dankest corners of the information superhighway. These fucks are getting deplatformed all over social media, actually, which is fantastic. Shame they still get to squat in the executive branch of the federal government until January, though.

Senate Republicans stripped a provision from an intelligence bill that would have required political campaigns to report offers of foreign election assistance, because their party is a hopelessly corrupt gang of authoritarian thugs that will never be able to win a free and fair election again, having lost the trust of the people, but why should a silly little thing that interfere with their ruthless grip on power? Anyway, I’m proud to be a member of the party that still believes in democracy.

And it’s only TUESDAY. Fuck. Get a nap in, Resisters, cuz we’re only halfway through 2020, and I’ll bet the little fucker hasn’t even shown us his fastball yet. Stay safe. Wear a mask. Some third thing, fuck it, I’m tired.

*Johns Wick? 

June 27, 2020

We Know How to Beat COVID, and COVID Still Outsmarted Us: Yet Another Week in Hell (Ferret/SC)

Three years of resisting has toughened you up, hasn’t it? After impeachment and COVID and the Bowling Green Massacre, surely you can handle anything. So when you hear about the massive dust plume from the Sahara Desert rolling over the United States, you just throw up your middle fingers, shout “You call that news? COME AT ME, PLUME!” and wait for Don Lemon to get to the good stuff.

Seriously...giant dust cloud? Are you kidding me? An hour of CNN is like a production of The Grapes of Wrath set inside a live volcano. Fuck.

(As ever, find this post with nifty nooz links here: http://showercapblog.com/we-know-how-to-beat-covid-and-covid-still-outsmarted-us-yet-another-week-in-hell/)

You’d think Government Cheese Goebbels would’ve had his fill of public humiliation after the Million Imaginary Friend March in Tulsa, but he came back to the buffet for seconds with Tuesday’s GOP primaries. In North Carolina, the Turdworm-endorsed candidate lost to a 24-year-old by 30 points, while in Kentucky, Littlefinger’s attempt to excommunicate Rep. Thomas Massie from Congress actually went even worse. Turns out catastrophic, economy-demolishing mismanagement of a deadly pandemic is bad for the ol’ brand, who’da guessed?

Getting back to Tulsa real quick, numerous Shart Campaign staffers who worked the event have now tested positive for COVID-19, and dozens of Secret Service agents have been forced to quarantine in the aftermath of Donnie Two-Scoops’ failed ego trip. Wow, how awesome is that gig these days? “Yeah, I’m supposed to take a bullet for this walking buttpimple who’s trying to destroy everything I’ve ever loved about my country, but hey, at least he exposed me to a disease that may kill me or damage my body for the rest of my life.”

Louie Gohmert successfully defended his Dumbest Man in Congress title, disrupting a House Judiciary hearing by repeatedly banging his ring on the table, like some sort of bumpkin Khrushchev. Naturally, Louie’s petulant little stunt made headlines, drawing massive amounts of attention to the very witness statements he was trying to drown out, which a man with a functioning brain would’ve realized; such considerations don’t seem to occur to the voters of the Texas 1st, however.

One of Sharty McFly’s least qualified judicial appointees (and shudder at that assessment for a moment) ordered Judge Emmet G. Sullivan to dismiss the case against Mike “the Turkish Delight” Flynn, even though everybody agrees Flynn did what he’s accused of, including Flynn himself, who confessed. Twice. There’s some hope for further review, but you have to admit, being able to select federal judges has turned out to be quite a boon for the Trump family crime syndicate.

Senate Democrats blocked Republicans’ bullshit “We’ve Thought About Police Reform and Decided Things’re Pretty Much Fine” bill, while House Dems managed to round up bipartisan support for their own “Hey, How ‘Bout We Actually Do Something About This Shit” version. Meanwhile, Mitch McConnell* experienced a wheezing, dusty turtlegasm for the first time in decades, as his sinister partnership with Baron Golfin von Fatfuk yielded its 200th federal judicial confirmation, and your 200th reason to fart on any smug third party voters you may come across.

Devin Nunes remains winless in the World Cow-Suing Federation, with a judge ruling he can neither sue Twitter nor force it to reveal to him the names behind anonymous bovine accounts dedicated to the righteous cause of mocking his cheap, sweaty, wannabe-fascist ass. I confess, this humiliation of one of Tangerine Idi Amin’s wormiest thugs recharges my batteries with the schadenfreude I need to get through my fucking day. I never said I was nice.

So, we know how to contain COVID-19. It’s been figured out. It’s not a fucking secret. It’s right here on the internet, you don’t even need to identify which photographs contain palm trees or streetlights to unlock it, yea, even bots are free to partake of this UNIVERSALLY KNOWN INFORMATION. Stay home when you can. Social distancing otherwise. Wear a fucking mask. Easy. Also, Peasy.

And yet, this fucking disease is treating the United States like we’re the Washington Generals. We just experienced the single-day record for newly-reported cases, MONTHS after we figured out how to contain the little bastard. Florida alone reported almost nine thousand cases today. And again, we know what to do, we’re just not doing it. It’s like the fire department showing up to a burning building and trying to extinguish the blaze by reciting Coleridge at it, WHAT THE LIVING FUCK DID YOU IMAGINE WOULD HAPPEN?

See, now it’s official: watching Sean Hannity can kill you. Not-even-remotely-surprising new studies connect the consumption of wingnut disinformation with increased coronavirus spread, which is measurable now because declaring your tribal allegiance to Trumpism literally means endangering your own life by engaging in medically unsafe behavior. Chuck frickin’ Todd couldn’t both-sides this shit. I mean, we’ve got our share of asshole pundits on the left, but nobody has to conduct formal research into whether exposing oneself to Bill Maher’s insufferable self-regard shortens one’s lifespan.

They’re having so much fun with their coronavirus outbreak down in Arizona that Scottsdale Republican Counciljag Guy Phillips decided he was just the wrinkly old white dude to invoke George Floyd, whining “I can’t breathe” from behind a mask, which he then theatrically removed, to the applause of the assembled shitsacks. Yes Guy, public health officials and basic human decency are essentially crushing your throat for 8 minutes and 46 seconds in asking you to wear a tiny piece of cloth over your face to help slow the spread of a disease that’s killed 127,000 of your countrymen. Incidentally, if you feel oppressed by being asked to do such a small, simple thing for your community, you’re broken. You’re a failed human. Please lock yourself indoors until it’s time for reincarnation.

And STILL the plan, at least as far as Team Treasonweasel is concerned, is to act as though things are not only hunky, but also dory. These fucks are actually shutting down testing sites, even as they lose control of the virus’ spread. I’ve written about this garbage for years now, I am one thoroughly-boiled frog, okay, but I simply cannot wrap my head around the horror of the lethal collision of Hairplug Himmler’s re-election strategy with his criminally negligent coronavirus response; he really and truly, in real fucking life, is pursuing a strategy of denying reality and undermining truthful reporting, in order to project a deadly facsimile of normalcy, to lure folks into the lion’s den to be devoured by an economy rigged to benefit only his billionaire buddies. (Will that fit on a ball cap, I wonder?)

Oh, and the Die Plebs Die Administration decided to use some of the time they aren’t spending combatting the pandemic to petition the Supreme Court to overturn Obamacare, because even with the current, almost-unfathomable COVID numbers, we just aren’t dying off quickly enough for these jerks. And of course, they’ll spin right around and insist they’ll always take care of folks with pre-existing conditions, despite their well-documented attempt to pass a bill that destroyed those very protections, famously thwarted by a single, now-deceased thumb. The Republican electoral strategy hinges largely on tricking people into believing they’re just mean Democrats.

Former Republican Presidential Candidate/Ted Cruz’s Running Mate for the Length of a Ramones Song Carly Fiorina told the world she’s voting for Smilin’ Joe Biden, SEE LISA MURKOWSKI, THAT WASN’T HARD AT ALL. Anyway, welcome to the Resistance, Carly...I guess. The donuts and coffee are really more for like, phone-bankers and door-knockers, so if you wanted to just write a check and leave, that’d be fine.

Tom Cotton imagines America listened to his blithering, hateful, bad-faith rant against D.C. statehood and heard the high-faultin’, mega-principled, finely-tuned rhetoric of a modern-day Cicero, instead of a third-rate Proud Boy Den Mother snarling ONLY WHITE FOLKS GET SENATORS, because Tom Cotton is right around 2% as smart as Tom Cotton thinks he is. He also probably imagines the bit where he explained why the (white) residents of Wyoming are super great Real Americans™️ while the (black) residents of Washington, D.C. are...something else, something lesser, was a deftly subtle dog whistle that nobody picked up on.

But hey, kudos to House Dems for passing that D.C. statehood bill! It’s not going anywhere right now, but come Biden Time? Different animal. Anyway, the D.C. statehood train is a train you should get on. The food in the dining car is excellent, and the implications for democracy are even better.

For the second time in a week, courts refused to halt the publication of a book on the dubious legal grounds that it would embarrass the Crook Family Robinshart so piss on the first amendment, piss on it with Russian hookers. Technically it was Fat Q*Bert’s brother who got his ass beat in court this time, but I think we’re still allowed to point and laugh. And unlike the tawdry tome penned by the Genocidal Mustache Symbiotically Attached to John Bolton’s Upper lip, we might actually buy Mary Trump’s book.

Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet himself took yet another judicial jackhammer to the scrotum, when a federal appeals court panel reminded him that he’s not allowed to raid congressionally-appropriated military funds at will to pay for his Big Dumb Wall. Try Mexico again, assclown...you’ll probably have to call though, since I doubt they’ll permit travel from our COVID-invested shithole country.

ANYWAY, in other news, it turns out a Russian military intelligence unit did this fun little thing where they paid bounties to Afghan militants to kill American troops.

Hoo boy.

Now, we the public are just finding out about this shit today, but military intelligence has known for months, and President Crotchrot himself was briefed in March. Another fun thing here is how, under normal circumstances, you’d expect the Commander in Chief to do something to protect or avenge our fighting forces, but after 3 years of the Turd Reich, nobody even considers that possibility because the whole world understands the American President is Putin’s personal sock puppet. COOL.

(Need I even mention that Vlad would have been too terrified of Hillary Clinton to pull anything like that shit?) 

And that’s the news from, again, and I cannot stress this enough...real life. Do you understand why I drink? Stay away from the ‘rona, my friends. I’ll see you next week. I hope.

*Meanwhile, Mitch McConnell sounds like a shitty sitcom collaboration between C-SPAN and Nick at Nite, doesn’t it? 

June 24, 2020

Well, If You Like Corruption, Hatred, & Disease, Boy Have I Got a Blog For You (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Y’know, just the other day I was thinking that the one thing this shitshow was missing was the traumatizing soundscape of the modern battlefield, so a big fat thumbs up to whoever added the all-night fireworks shows to the simulation; it’s that kind of loving attention to detail that makes life truly unbearable here in Hell. Well, that and, of course, the news:

(Yup yup, if you want this post, WITH links (and I’ll mention one specifically later), click here: http://showercapblog.com/well-if-you-like-corruption-hatred-disease-boy-have-i-got-a-blog-for-you/)

I think we’ve lost track of which Friday Night Massacre we’re on now. XVIII? IX? X: Massacre in Space? That franchise is totally out of control; I thought it was a mistake when they added the masculine toilet guy to the cast, and it’s been all downhill from there. Anyway, Redactor General William Barr tried to fire Geoffrey Berman, the U.S. attorney overseeing several investigations into the Shart Cabal, by announcing Berman had resigned, only Berman went, “shit that’s news to me, Jowls,” so there was a whole THING. In the end, Berman agreed to leave, but Barr didn’t get to install his preferred stooges, so...yay? American democracy gets to live to fight another day, I guess? I’ll take my good news where I can find it these days.

The new home video version of the Mueller report features a commentary track by Peter Strzok and Lisa Page, plus some freshly unredacted material, and it’s bombshell stuff. Turns out the Turdmaggot campaign, up to Boss Shart himself, absolutely knew Wikileaks had stolen shit that would damage Hillary Clinton, and he said, “Fuck YEAH bring on that sweet, sweet foreign interference, God knows I can’t accomplish anything on my own, I’m a fuckup of historic proportions, shit, if it wasn’t for my daddy’s money, I’d have locked myself in the dressing room of the shopping mall shoe store where I’m an assistant manager and starved to death by now.”

...I tell ya, if we’d only known about this shit during the impeachment trial, an entire new furrow would have appeared on Susan Collins’ brow, and perhaps even Marco Rubio would’ve struggled to find the perfect Bible quote to capture his craven hypocrisy.

If there’s ever a Mount Rushmore of Losing in Court, it’ll just be four copies of that hate-warped, butthole-mouthed face we’ve all come to loathe. I bring this up of course because somehow Strawberry Shartcake has managed to lose in court yet again, seriously, when does he even find time to golf? In this particular instance, he failed to block the release of John Bolton’s trashy/probably-murderous-I’m-not-reading-the-fucking-thing tell-all book. Constantly picking unwinnable fights never seemed like an efficient leadership tactic, but hey, at least now we know for sure.

Donald Trump officially became the Roman God of Self-Ownership in Tulsa, Oklahoma last Saturday, when days of imprudently raising attendance expectations for the opening night of his Deplorable COVID Spit Swap Tour ran into the brick wall of reality like Wile E. Coyote only racist and stupid and wearing a too-long necktie. After boasting of more than a million ticket requests, and even building an outdoor stage for a bonus address to the expected overflow crowd, just 6,200 of the least-safety-conscious denizens of MAGA nation turned up to watch their Turd Emperor drink water from a glass with one hand, in what critics are calling The Shittiest Magic Show in Human History.

It was a narcissist’s worst nightmare; undeniable, inescapable public humiliation. Oh sure, they tried to blame protesters, and antifa, and probably Hillary Clinton for the crowd as tiny and inadequate as Fat Q*Bert’s wee baby hands, but that sad, disheveled walk of shame from Marine One to his increasingly-temporary residence spoke for itself. After years of poisoning our minds, and causing so much pain and suffering, it was wonderful to see that bastard so defeated. I hope you drank deep of that shit, friends; you deserve it, plus, once you get the taste for it, you want MORE, right?

Anyway, yes, it appears as though Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus was utterly bamboozled by the keyboard activism of teenaged TikTokers and K-pop fans, who deluged their little bigot bash with phony ticket requests. Magnificently, for a dude who gets off on the hollow adrenaline rush of firing subordinates, the Marmalade Shartcannon still retains the services of this massive public mortification’s architect, Neckbeard DigiGrifter Brad Parscale. Hey, every minute that glorified troll remains Captain of the Shartanic brings the entire ship of fools that much closer to the inevitable iceberg, so I’m all for it.

To make matters even worse for Team Treasonweasel, the speech itself was a meandering, lifeless, grievance-filled nothingburger demonstrating that Government Cheese Goebbels has no fucking clue how to beat Joe Biden, unless maybe Lookit Me Walk Down This Ramp Like a Big Boy has yielded unexpectedly positive feedback in focus groups.

Of course, the one bit of news that did break through the dementia blather was Donnie Dotard confessing to asking his staff to “slow down” coronavirus testing, on the idea that more testing = more cases discovered = bad news in Shartopia. Y’see, he, and mini-Trumps like Ron DeSantis, truly are pursuing a Pay No Attention to Your Disappearing Grandparents strategy, fudging the numbers and planting fake plastic flowers atop the mass graves, desperately hoping they can trick us serfs into venturing outside to shop till we literally drop dead. That this plan would only lead to more coronavirus deaths eludes them, for they are stupid, stupid men.

Anyway, I’m trying to figure out how I’ll explain to my grandkids that yes, the President of the United States refused, for months, to do anything to combat the spread of a deadly virus that killed tens of thousands as a result, because he believed acknowledging the scope of the crisis would be bad for him politically, and yes, everyone knew about it, but no, we couldn’t remove him from office because Mitch McConnell had a few more judges he wanted confirmed. Civics textbooks are gonna need a complete overhaul, is all I’m saying.

And Sultan Spraytan demonstrated his Change the Channel I’m Bored doctrine in an interview with Axios, figuring he may as well meet with Venezuelan dictator Nicolás Maduro, which would totally upend years of U.S. policy, but hey, maybe he’ll get a really cool challenge coin out of it. Anyway, Florida Republicans rapped him on the knuckles hard enough that he walked the offer back, but the point is the President doesn’t know, understand, or believe anything. Anything at all. This is one more item in Joe Biden’s favor, I think; I like how he has knowledge and experience when it comes to foreign policy...also, he picks out pants that fit.

In the same interview, Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops confirmed that he refused to impose sanctions on the Chinese government over their Uighur concentration camps, because he didn’t want to endanger his precious trade deal; the Chinese were having so much fun running circles around him, you see, he didn’t want to spoil the party. Well, if you still think this demented old bastard would let something silly, like human suffering on a horrific scale, stand between himself and self-aggrandizement, you haven’t been reading this blog for very long.

With November drawing e’er nearer, President Gas Station Urinal Cake is in full panic mode, challenging Smilin’ Joe Biden to eleventy thousand debates (and a basic mental acuity test!), and emitting high-pitched screechy sounds about mail-in ballots and voter fraud, because obviously when you’re whinging that the election will be stolen more than four months out, it’s because you’re winning SO HARD. Look, it’s clear he’s going to need to be hog-tied and literally dragged from office, and you really would get a million requests for THAT ticket; just fuckin’ tell me where I need to camp out.

Well, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot suspended several types of work visas through at least the end of the year, because if he has to drop yet another bowling ball upon the already-throughly-bludgeoned economy’s groin to give Stephen Miller fresh non-white pain to wank to, then so be it. I certainly hope at this late date that no one is surprised anymore when this clowncar full of rectums chooses hatred over common frickin’ sense.

The whole re-election “strategy” seems to be focused on checking off every item on the White Nationalist Loser Xmas List, while all other demographics get the ol’ ”what do you have to lose” treatment. Lil’ Man, you’ve got the racists sewn up. There are no Klansmen or Proud Boys or Boogaloo Buffoons going “Gosh, if he could just nudge himself a bit further right on immigration, I’d be on board, but ‘till then I’m voting for Jill Stein,” y’know? But please, PLEASE proceed with your idiotic, self-defeating plan.

While the yammering heads of the wingnut media bubble keep their audience trembling in fear of the antifa hordes that stubbornly refuse to manifest in reality, a U.S. Army solider was just arrested for PLOTTING WITH A SATANIC NAZI GROUP TO AMBUSH HIS OWN FUCKING UNIT. Folks, I didn’t even know there were satanic Nazis until this week, so maybe let’s devote a little less air time to the imaginary threats, and more to making sure we’re keeping tabs on the SATANIC NAZIS. I actually want pretty regular updates on the satanic Nazis, now that I know they exist outside of Hellboy comics.

So, Rudy Giuliani said to himself, “Golly, I sure do feel like shitting some Klan-level hate speech from my rotting mouth-hole today, good thing I’ve got Laura Ingraham’s number!” and so he went on the talking television box to slander the Black Lives Matter movement as a massive anarchist conspiracy to break into your home and steal those McDonald’s Batman Forever mugs you’ve kept in such good shape all these years. He truly is Amerikkka’s Mayor.

The American people are righteously, justifiably pissed that their president has simply abandoned his duty to slow the spread of the coronavirus, but look, we’re all up to our damn necks in bat poo, and someone has to focus on what’s truly important: shitty statues of dead loser traitors. Yes, the very same dithering dolt who hasn’t removed his thumb from his ass in months, while 123,000 Americans died, wants to impose heavy jail sentences on any patriot who does their duty during this Civil War Epilogue we’re all trapped in, by taking down a Confederate monument or two. I don’t see the play here; maybe some of those Nazi satanists are gonna animate the statues so they can vote?

Even if the Shart House has abandoned the field, take comfort in knowing the GOP’s finest minds are hard at work on the problem. Arizona Participation Trophy Senator Martha McSally has visions of pulling her faltering campaign out of the quicksand with a bill that would literally pay people to spread the fucking coronavirus all over the fucking country, granting thousands in tax credits as incentives to go on vacation. During a pandemic. Why not throw in a toaster oven for anybody who goes to a water park, Martha? Anyway, anticipating that this news may spark some of you to speed McSally’s exit from any and all lawmaking bodies, here is a link to Mark Kelly’s campaign.

My fellow Americans, you have no doubt fantasized about fleeing to Europe to escape the shitshow-within-a-Sharknado that is life in the United States in 2020, but sorry, you live in a failed state ruled by a death cult that refuses to take the simplest of measures to contain an outbreak because FREEDUMB, so the European Union is leaning towards leaving us to stew in our lethal cooties, and who can fucking blame them? Build a wall around us. Pay for it howsoever you see fit.

Yeah, it’s pretty shitty out there...unless you’re COVID-19, that is. No unclaimed K-pop stan tickets there, I’m afraid. And dang, what a coincidence, it’s we-don’t-need-no-stinkin’-mask REAL ‘MURICA that’s getting hit now, particularly Texas, Florida, and Arizona. Since we are a culture that has seemingly decided to divide along politically partisan lines on issues like science and objective reality, I guess there’s not much to do except keep on dying.

On that merry note, it is most definitely time to start drinking. So far, the ‘rona has left my beer alone, and I hope that streak continues. May your beverage of choice be free of disease as well, my resisting chums...stay safe out there, and I’ll see y’all soon. 

June 20, 2020

Yet Another Week in Hell: Everybody Welcome (Sigh) Nestor to the Cast (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Hey, I know everything is fucking awful these days and it’s hard to stay sane, let alone happy, but congratulations on a surviving another week in this apocalyptic hellscape where the President of the United States has partnered with a deadly virus to KILL YOU. Those are some pretty impressive enemies, and they haven’t taken you out yet, so maybe you’re tougher than you imagine. Certainly tough enough to make it through a lil’ news roundup, right?

(As always, you can find this post, with all them nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/yet-another-week-in-hell-everybody-welcome-sigh-nestor-to-the-cast/)

Well, the political media picked through John Bolton’s shitty little book for the newsworthy bits, like going through your dog’s poop after she swallowed a roll of dimes, and I suppose we should thank them for undertaking such an unsavory task, sparing us both time and the moral cost of contributing to the genocidal mustache wax fund.

All the tropes of the Ex-Shart Administration Official Tell-All Memoir are here; the Dotard’s sub-third-grade knowledge level (admit it, you would’ve been much more surprised to learn that he actually knew Finland was an independent nation), his open criminality, the way foreign autocrats effortlessly manipulate him. When this is all over, one of the loyalists (probably Kellyanne Conway) is gonna try to publish their own desperate attempt to rewrite the history of this blazing clusterfuck as some sort of white nationalist Camelot, and we will point at them and laugh.

Anyway, Murderstache says Tangerine Idi Amin begged Chinese President Xi Jinping to bail out his floundering re-election campaign by buying up American agricultural goods, cuz lord knows the doddering old fuckup can’t run on his record. He also gave Xi the official presidential stamp of approval to run as many concentration camps as his little shitbag heart desired, a rare instance of ideological consistency between President Crotchvoid’s foreign and domestic policies. Oh, and he also thought it would be totally sweet to invade Venezuela, which would probably be easier than buying Greenland, right?

There, that’s all you need to know. Here’s what I think: nobody should buy Greenland, and nobody should buy John Bolton’s fucking book. My disposable income is for folks who testify under oath, you skeevy creep. Where's Fiona Hill's book? I'd buy the shit out of that.

Because we live in the Dumbest and Shittiest of All Possible Worlds, somehow, mask-wearing, aka that Ridiculously Simple, Ultra-Effective Method for Halting the Spread of the Virus That Has Killed 121,000 Americans and Shows Not One Fucking Sign of Slowing Down has become...partisan. There is one political party that is for doing the sensible thing for public health, and one that is all FUCK YOU YOU’LL HAVE TO PRY A MASK ONTO MY COLD DEAD FACE.

Nebraska Governor Pete Ricketts is literally blackmailing his state’s municipalities into making people less safe, threatening to withhold coronavirus relief funding from any local governments that mandate masks inside government buildings. Yep, that’s an American state punishing their own citizens for fighting a pandemic, for protecting their own goddamn health, that’s how utterly deranged the Republican Party has become. One of the things I like best about Democrats is the way we’re not a death cult.

Hell, Shart Garfunkel himself now interprets this basic act of self-preservation and communal decency as an expression of opposition to himself, and I feel like a better position for the American President to take would be AGAINST the disease and WITH the people he was elected to serve, but we live in challenging times.

See, to me, this presents some real opportunities. What else can we make partisan? Can we push the mask thing so far that it encompasses all healthy behaviors, and even health care itself? “Yeah, dude, medical treatment is for CUCKS. Real men grind it out, and voluntarily lower their own life expectancy through sheer force of manly will.” Maybe in the near future Dems will dominate voters over 65, because we’ll be the only ones who last that long.

More shockingly good news from the Supreme Court this week, as Chief Justice John Roberts joined the liberals in upholding DACA, immediately setting off fire alarms in the White House as Stephen Miller’s latest layer of spray-on hair spontaneously ignited. Wow, I guess John-John is a secret libtard now and will never again make infuriating rulings about how corporations are people, but women seeking to control their own reproductive health aren’t, right? I’m just saying, a couple of y’all might want to cancel your appointments at the tattoo parlor, because I suspect you’ll wind up regretting carving “ME + CJJR 4-EVER” onto your chest.

Welp, I suppose we have to talk about Nestor. Ugh. Good thing I’m surrounded by sanitizing products these days. It appears as though Pudding-Brained Florida Congresscreep Matt Gaetz has a...a ward, I guess? Gaetz humiliated himself on the House floor in an argument with Rep. Cedric Richmond, and suddenly pulled 19-year-old Nestor out of his ass, claiming the kid is his son, though he hasn’t “formally” adopted him, and has never publicly claimed to have children. Casual adoption isn’t a thing, Matty, and human beings aren’t props for your performative faux outrage, though congrats on scoring a spot on Tucker Carlson’s White Power Hour. Ew to this story. Moving on.

Credit where credit’s due, President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster has been giving a bunch of interviews over the last few days, raising awareness for a cause that’s near and dear to my heart, the Holy Fuckballs Donald Trump’s Brain is Broken, Seriously, It Does Not Fucking Work At All Foundation. It’s important work.

Talking to the Wall Street Journal, he demanded credit for making Juneteenth “famous," which he accomplished, you’ll remember, by SCHEDULING A KLAN RALLY AT THE SITE OF A RACE MASSACRE on the same date. Yeah, and Julius Caesar was filming a promotional video for the Library of Alexandria.

In the same interview, Weehands McNodick decided to once again take aim at the beloved field leader of our massive antifa terrorist army, Martin Gugino, the 75-year-old peace activist violently assaulted by the Buffalo PD. Gugino is recovering in a secret location because he’s receiving death threats thanks to the Stochastic-Terrorist-in-Chief, and let me just say, the wait between now and Election Day is like every childhood Xmas Eve rolled up into one and sprinkled liberally with cocaine. I want to open my present NOW, dammit, the polls tell me there’s an excellent chance Santa is bringing us a revitalized American democracy, not that I’ll believe it until Grandpa Joe assembles the thing and puts the batteries in.

In a different interview, this time with Politico, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot whines that allowing voting by mail would cost him the election, and hey, even a stopped clock is right twice a day. Yes, little man, if the American people are allowed a free and fair election this November, you are deeply, majestically, historically fucked. Learn to love it. Or don’t, I don’t give a shit.

He goes on to brag about all the GOP Senators whose careers he ended, relishing his role in getting Dean Heller and Jeff Flake replaced...with Democrats. Hey, if retiring Republicans is what gets you off, my dude, I think you’re about four and a half months away from having a whole lot more to celebrate.

Now, if you’re like me, and you find embarrassment porn like Meet the Parents or Election difficult to watch, the interview between Son of Shart and his scumfuck daddy may be a bridge too far. Watching those two decency-deficient manchildren dance around their issues (Junior’s Ivanka line will make you cringe so hard you’ll throw out your back) is like sitting through cut scenes from a Tennessee Williams script as directed by Eli Roth. Anyway, I bet this “Bin Laden for Biden” thing will totally un-iceberg the Titanic that is your 2020 campaign, kids.

Lt. Col. Alexander Vindman’s promotion is in jeopardy, because he courageously stood up for his country and the rule of law, and when the Commander-in-Chief is a vindictive traitor, such patriotism is frowned upon.

Incidentally, the Navy decided that yeah, it’s super duper sure it wants to fire Captain Brett Crozier for (checks notes) trying to rescue his crew from an onboard coronavirus outbreak, so I feel like maybe there are some HR people at the Pentagon that Smilin’ Joe might wanna look into replacing. That post-inauguration to-do list is getting to be quite a lengthy scroll, isn’t it?

SPEAKING OF SCROLLING, the Velveeta Vulgarian seems to be suffering from senioritis (in addition to the narcissism and dementia) as his lame duck days approach, openly fiddling with his phone during a roundtable with small business owners, because he can no longer be bothered to even pretend to care about us peasants, not even for a few passing minutes, not even when the cameras are on. The next President should like people, not get all controversial.

But the bastard still wants another term, because with four more years of sweet, sweet legal immunity, he can run out the clock on some of those pesky statutes of limitations. He wants it so bad he’s spending millions on ads. Ads with Nazi concentration camp imagery. Jesus FUCK, dude, that shit was so egregious, even FACEBOOK drew the line and took your NAZI SYMBOL ADS down, and Mark Zuckerberg would allow snuff films if he thought they’d get people to click on MeUndies links. Fucking NAZI SYMBOL ADS. 137 days. Fuck.

Anyway, congratulations go out to whatever strains of COVID-19 are circulating in Tulsa, Oklahoma these days, on winning a free ticket to this weekend’s All the Raging Dumbasses You Can Eat buffet, aka the Grand Wizard Grifter’s latest rally. I see the demented old fuck marked the Juneteenth holiday by getting a head start on inciting violence at his little hatefest, threatening protesters in a tweet like a Big Tuff Boy Who Pulls Up His Own Diapers n’ Everything. Come for the imaginary antifa threat, stay* for the life-threatening disease. Has anybody done the math on how many of these dolts need to get infected to turn Oklahoma into a swing state?

Fuuuuuck. Like the engines of the Starship Enterprise, I cannae take anymore. By the time you get to this sentence, I will have drunk myself into a stupor, because I deserve that. As always, stay safe out there, Resisters. See y’all soon.

*in the ICU 

June 17, 2020

Monty Python, Hellboy, & a Conquistador: I Swear I'm Not Making Any of This Shit Up (Ferret/ShowerC)

So, today, I saw a headline that read, “Americans are the unhappiest they've been in 50 years, poll finds,” and I’ve been emitting little unhinged giggles ever since, because, like, YA THINK? Gotta admit, looking upon the hellscape that is the news cycle doesn’t exactly make me wanna belt out showtunes.

(Hey hey, wanna see this post WITH nifty news links, and in living color? Click here: http://showercapblog.com/monty-python-hellboy-a-conquistador-i-swear-im-not-making-any-of-this-shit-up/)

No one was more disappointed that the Black Lives Matter protests turned indisputably peaceful (after all the Boogaloo infiltrators got arrested, of course) than the propaganda-spewing hacks at Fux Nooz. Still, if the real world won't give you the terrifying antifa violence you’re so desperate to broadcast, you can always “fix” that, by photoshopping a handy dandy armed terrorist into pictures of folks drawing with sidewalk chalk. I mean, an unaltered photograph, depicting only boring ol’ reality, would be neither fair nor balanced, I’m sure you’ll agree.

And Fux wasn’t nearly done showing their asses, not that they ever are. In another attempt to fear-monger about the protests (noticing a theme yet?), they trumpeted a tweet quoting Monty Python and the Holy Grail, framing it as some sort of anarchist manifesto, because who has time for a quick google search when you’re in the Frightening Old White People business? Incidentally, I’m distressed there are professional class people, surely making far more money than I, who lack Python literacy. What the fuck are schools teaching these days?

It was weeks ago when the Velveeta Vulgarian first made headlines for endangering the lives of West Point’s graduating class by ordering cadets back to serve as background props for a campaign speech in the middle of a pandemic. In the end, it was mostly just forgettable; Stephen Miller trying to write inspirationally is like getting a sonnet from cancer.

The speech itself may not have made much news, but Donnie Dotard’s post-rant exit certainly generated a few headlines, as a long, slow walk down a ramp revealed his mental deterioration is matched only by his physical decline. Honestly, how much longer can this gibbering mound of resentment, fast food, and Adderall maintain cohesion? Maybe we’ll get lucky and one day soon he’ll just fall apart into little piles of orange goo, and slither down the drain...

One thing you have to give Cult45: they hate what they’re told to hate. So when the Emperor of Hemorrhoids rages mindlessly about the alleged evils of voting by mail, naturally a gaggle of crazed shartkins gets together to burn their absentee ballot applications. As a lib, I can honestly say I have never in my life been so thoroughly owned.

Denver Riggleman is an absolute creep, a Bigfoot erotica aficionado who campaigned with white nationalists, joined the feral assclowns of the Freedom Caucus, and has served as a rubber stamp for all of Hairplug Himmler’s worst policies, and yet he STILL lost his primary because one time, he officiated a same-sex wedding, which I take as a clear signal that the GOP no longer allows any positive traits whatsoever in their candidates. Future vetting committees will pore over every moment of your life, and if you ever scratched a kitten or dropped your loose change in the charity can, you’ll be banned from the party for life.

I see Sharty McFly announced he won’t watch NFL or U.S. national soccer games, on account of all the kneeling and whatnot, and yeah that’s interesting, but the fact that another thing he won’t do is HIS FUCKING JOB, like, for example, maybe working up some sort of unified federal response to the motherfucking coronavirus outbreak, seems a smidge more newsworthy.

The Supreme Court issued a landmark gay rights ruling, and finally, here in 2020, you can no longer be fired in America for being LGBTQ. And for a glorious hour or so, our social media feeds, which have been bludgeoning us for years now with scandal and terror and corruption and death, erupted in joyous celebration. Good news? Real good news, not just “that thing that was so fucked up last week is marginally less fucked up now? I’d nearly forgotten what that felt like.

Of course this wasn’t good news to the culture war dead-enders. Those kids? They’re mad as hell, and they’d like you to sign their IMPEACH GORSUCH NOW petition, because the whole reason they hired Neil in the first place was to institutionalize the dehumanization of the Religious Right’s inquisition targets. “Why do we even GIVE to the Republican Party, Edward, if they’re just going to keep on granting civil rights willy-nilly?”

So, Ted Cruz picked a fight with Ron Perlman. Like, a physical fight. He wanted to fight Ron Perlman. Wait, no, that’s not quite right, he wanted Gym Jordan to do battle as his champion, like in the movies. To...wrestle Perlman, in fact. Because when you think of Congressman Jordan, your mind goes straight to wrestling, right? Your mom must be so proud, Jimbo. Anyway, you’d think Cruz had found rock bottom after four years spent tongue-bathing the ass of the fella who insulted his wife and father, but I’m pleased to report that he seems capable of almost limitless self-humiliation, so he may yet become even more pathetic.

Oh, more good news, everybody. You may’ve wondered if we’d given up on this whole “deadly pandemic” thing, but no, we actually just figured everything out, and we’re all good now. Yes, the very mind that brought you “15 cases, soon to be zero” and “it’ll go away on its own” has now stumbled across the boldly innovative “if we stop testing, we stop getting cases.” I’m screaming an endless, primal, metallic scream, like I’ve just been sucked into the Matrix, like my scream is a Metal Machine Music B-side.

It is SCIENCE FICTION that this man is this stupid. Anti-science fiction. It’s the horrific tale of a blithering dolt who drags humanity backward, who stands athwart not just progress, but Shit We Figured Out Ten Years Ago. We seriously had infrastructure in place to deal with this shit, he destroyed it for no reason, and now, 119,000 deaths later, we’re still on “if we stop looking for it, we won’t find it.”

I wonder sometimes...how many of you out there who started this journey with me have died along the way? Like in Oregon Trail? Not of dysentery, but of COVID-19. Fuck.

Toss Voice of America onto the pile of institutions Joe Biden will have to glue back together come January, because, like we’ve seen so many times before, the hacks have arrived, they’ve forced the competent professionals out, and they’re looking to replace expertise with Shrieking Extremist Wingnuttery, and no, it hasn’t worked out for them yet, not ONCE, but hey, maybe 422nd time’s the charm, right?

To make matters worse, the grapevine is screaming because apparently Squeezably Soft TeleFascist Sebastian Gorka is in line for a top post at VOA, putting an organization that was founded to combat Nazi propaganda in the hands of an actual Nazi. Oh Seb, how many times must we flush?

South Carolina Congressjag Tom Rice caught the ‘rona, so naturally he turns out to have recently appeared on the floor of the House without a fucking mask on, but don’t worry, I’m sure the virus was so impressed with his manliness that it didn’t even think about spreading. Republicans keep expecting COVID-19 to behave like Chuck Todd, to grin vacantly while acknowledging their “side” of a public health issue they’re desperately trying to re-cast as a front in the culture war. A virus is not Chuck Todd, kids. It’s smarter, for a start.

If you like watching scrotum-faced, amoral shitsacks slap-fighting through the media, President Crotchrot and John Bolton are here to feed your habit. Now there’s a lawsuit, and I just hope this is one of those movies where the writer understands all the characters are bad, and punishes everybody. Ideally with toothaches, jail time, and gout.

The Treasonweasel Administration hasn’t learned much about governing after all this time, but they’ve become intimately familiar with the (lack of) speed of the federal courts, and so they’ve decided that instead of allowing oversight of the $500 billion PPP fund, they’re going to have Not Oversight. House Dems have opened an investigation, and so now we get to watch the erotic-but-glacial Dance of the Seven Subpoenas, which will likely last till November and beyond, wheeeeeeee.

So, apparently a flock of heavily-armed Douchebag Loser White Supremacists (but I repeat myself) calling themselves the New Mexico Civil Guard (everyone’s very impressed, children. You’re just like a real army, only idiots.) got in trouble when one of their members fired four shots into a crowd of protesters pulling down a statue of some murderous dirtbag conquistador, seriously injuring one person.

Shot a human being. Over a statue. Of a conquistador. It’s like shitty white boy terrorist Mad Libs. Hey, maybe letting every dickless psychopath arm himself to the teeth and play soldier in public spaces is a bad fucking idea. And yes, the difference in arrest procedures for a white dude who tries to start a war in the streets, compared to that for a black man selling cigarettes is pretty fucking stark.

Redactor General William Barr is bringing federal executions back, because OF COURSE he found a new, unexpected way to be evil that you weren’t even thinking about. Bilious Bill’s to-do list would send shivers down David Cronenberg’s spine, y’all.

North Korea blew up their joint liaison office with South Korea, no, not figuratively, literally blew it to shit with explosives, and you have to admit, you have more tools in your diplomatic kit when you’re batshit crazy. I doubt arriving at the ‘Splodey Tantrum phase of international relations will benefit Fat Q*Bert’s Nobel Peace Prize case, but he’s probably minting a new challenge coin, of a building exploding, just in case.

And the coronavirus continues tearing through this country like a highly contagious disease ravaging a population of freedumb-obsessed fuckwads too selfish and stupid to take the simple, entirely manageable steps necessary to stop it OH WAIT I THINK I METAPHORED WRONG. States that hurried to reopen before conditions were safe are seeing massive surges because FUCKING OF COURSE THEY ARE. Hey Republicans: no one was trying to trick you with wily science. We were trying to save your lives. And our lives. And the economy. Thanks to your deranged paranoia, American society is one great big lethal lottery now, with thousands of lucky contestants competing for no-expenses paid trips to the ICU every minute of every day. Real nice work, jackasses.

And yes, the Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor is moving forward with his plan to hold a Juneteenth Plus One (Wink Wink) Ku Klux Klan Revival and Freak Sho in Tulsa, Oklahoma, a city in mid-outbreak, because that’s just the sort of thing you do when you’re the Butthole-Mouthed High Priest of a white supremacist death cult. Apparently.

Also, the Candycorn Skidmark signed an executive order on police reform that accomplishes next to nothing, though it did give him a chance to be on the teevee, which he always likes. Real solutions to these problems will, as usual, have to wait for the grown-ups.

Well THAT’S ALL, FOLKS, even though it probably isn’t, it never is, but I’m gonna click “post” anyway and enjoy a beer-soaked evening until this shit starts up all over again in the morning. Or in the next ten minutes. Fuck. Stay safe, Resisters. 140 days. 

June 13, 2020

Trump 2020: Dead Traitors and Dog Whistles (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Reading the news these days is like running with the bulls, only instead of bulls they’re really angry clowns and instead of running you’re just sitting in the middle of the street, having a bad acid trip, while the clowns trample you. And then you wake up the next day, open the newspaper, and do it all over again. Wheeeeeee.

(Like always, you can find this post, in living color, and with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/trump-2020-dead-traitors-and-dog-whistles/)

So, the retired judge appointed by the judge in the Mike Flynn trial to counter Bilious Billy Barr’s appalling “law schmaw” maneuver told the Redactor General precisely where he could stick his We’re a Dictatorship Now, Deal With It dismissal order, only he did so using fancy legal terminology and far less swearing than the situation called for, in my humble opinion. Seems Turkey’s Favorite Unregistered Agent isn’t quite off the hook just yet, ain’t that a shame?

Brian Kemp’s shitty Reese’s Cup of voter suppression and criminal incompetence didn’t stop nearly a million Democrats from voting in Georgia’s primary on Tuesday, and between this and the recent Wisconsin SCOTUS election, you almost hope Republicans don’t figure out how much their anti-democracy shenanigans are backfiring on them until it’s too late. Turns out people don’t like having their rights stolen by fascist fuckheads, who knew?

Speaking of Georgia, it looks like the United States Congress is about to be blessed with its very first Qnatic! That’s right, one of these 4chan-radicalized fuckwits is going to be counted among the elite 535 who make the laws the rest of us have to follow, because some gibbering nutcase named Marjorie Taylor Greene won her primary in a safe red district, so if you thought the Republican Party was getting the teeeeeeensiest bit saner or less hateful when Steve King finally got airlocked, I’m afraid I have some bad news.

The whole shitshow of these last four years has played out like somebody asked Clarence from It’s a Wonderful Life to show them a world where the United States was run by Hitler, Only Also the Biggest Loser in the World. Exhibit 43,256: Weehands McNodick actually had his lawyers demand the retraction of a CNN poll showing Smilin’ Joe Biden taint-punting his fascist ass all the way to the fucking sun. (CNN responded by laughing directly in his face, of course.) He’s about one Adderall overdose from suing Objective Reality, something I imagine he’ll try around, oh, say, November 4th.

You may recall that one story about Skidmark, Jr. traveling to Mongolia on the taxpayer dime to kill a rare, borderline-endangered breed of sheep (this is the kind of activity a particular sort of pathetic, insecure rich boy periodically undertakes to fill the void where most people have a sense of self-worth). Well, a watchdog group finally tracked down the bill, and it turns out it wasn’t the taxpayer dime so much as the taxpayer $75 grand. Little man, literally no one anywhere is impressed with your ability to point your sad little rich boy gun at an animal and end its life; you are not the Great White Hunter, you’re a shitty manchild who still can’t grow a proper beard. Give us our fucking money back, and maybe we’ll go easy on the criminal charges once your dirtbag dad loses the legal immunity of his office.*

The Genocidal Mustache Symbiotically Attached to John Bolton’s Upper Lip claims to want to blow the whistle on his old boss’ many crimes, but of course refused to do so in the one setting that might have actually made a difference for the country (testifying under oath before Congress in their impeachment inquiry), opting instead to keep the juicy stuff secret until he could personally profit from his insider gossip. Now he’s in a slap fight with the Shart House over alleged classified information in his new book, and honestly, fuck everybody involved in this bloodthirsty douchebag circle jerk. Fuck your book, John, and fuck you. We’ll get any new information from news coverage without paying for your self-aggrandizing memoir, and you can battle it out with Dinesh D’Souza over space on the remainder table.

I confess I’m worried about my canine-owning readers, particularly regarding your beloved companions’ aural health, because the dog whistles are so frequent and so loud these days it’s gotta be tough on a pooch. See, the Grifter Grand Wizard isn’t exactly being subtle, launching his Klan Rallies Are Back Bay-Bee tour on Juneteenth, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, site of the most horrific race massacre in American history. For a campaign that’s further down in the polls than it’s ever been to burn their first in-person event in weeks on possibly the least-swingable state in the union should tell you how important it is for Hairplug Himmler to be seen as the candidate of violently-enforced white supremacy.

Oh and by the way, you need to sign a fucking waiver just to gain admission to this bigot mosh pit. Yeah, that’s right, acknowledging that the spittle from your bleachermate’s LOCK HER UP chants might just wind up costing you your life, you must agree to grant your Turd Emperor legal immunity for inviting you to a party in a Petri dish in the first place. You see why he loves the poorly educated now, don’tcha?

Incidentally, another rally, the replacement riot for the official RNC will, unbelievably, take place on yet another anniversary of yet another monstrous act of white supremacist violence, in this case the “Ax Handle Saturday” attack in Jacksonville, Florida. This shit must have Stephen Miller cackling like the Wicked Witch of the W...of the South, now that I think of it.

Like, I get that you can’t run on your record when your record is a fetid, oozing mound of failure, economic carnage, and death, but surely Team Treasonweasel can offer something better than YOU’LL PRY THE NAMES OF CONFEDERATE GENERALS ADORNING MILITARY BASES OUT OF MY COLD, DEAD, LAUGHABLY SMALL AND INADEQUATE HANDS, right?

On the one hand, it’s amazing, this flock of buttholes’ inability to read the fucking room, and I certainly won’t stand in the way as they take ever more electoral jackhammers to their already-battered scrotums, but seriously, the shift towards the BLM movement is so seismic even fucking NASCAR is banning the Confederate flag, while these dolts trot Larry Kudlow out to proclaim systemic racism is imaginary, and put Stephen Miller’s id in charge of the campaign calendar. They own-goal so much, there’s no need for an opposing goalie. Or even an opposing team, honestly.

Caving to the reality that their once-mighty political party has devolved into a post-policy, post-decency, post-ever-thinking-about-anything mob, the GOP officially decided, “fuck it, let’s just cut-and-paste the 2016 platform rather than making a new one, which would be hard.“ I mean, I guess I appreciate the confession that they’re just a cult of personality now. “Trump 2020: Hate is all we got, take it or leave it.”

Joint Chiefs Chairman Mark Milley apologized for his role in Tangerine Idi Amin’s Big Tuff Dictator Boy floor show, in which his uniform served as a gaudy prop that told the discerning fascist at home, “yes, this tyrannical assault on peaceful American protesters comes with the full stamp of approval of the United States military.” Good. If it makes Littlefinger hesitate before crossing another line, the republic may just survive.

Treasury Secretary Mnuchbag sure is getting mighty saucy these days, isn’t he? Steve-O wants America to understand that NO, he isn’t gonna put Harriet Tubman on the twenty-dollar bill, and NO, we won’t shut down the economy again no matter how large the COVID-19 mass graves get, and for good measure, NO there won’t be any transparency for the $500 billion in coronavirus bailout payments, because shit, we’ve got enough trouble without the electorate learning about all the money we handed over to the President’s cronies while Main Street suffered and went broke. “We’re basically in run-out-the-clock mode now, we’re either getting away with all this shit, or the hammer’s coming down anyway,” Mnuchin said, before writing another check to his trophy wife so that she’ll agree to be seen in public with him this weekend.

Even as his Generalissimo at St. John’s stunt blows up in his face, making it increasingly likely that his re-election campaign joins his airline, his casino, his university, and his fashion sense in the Trump Endeavors Graveyard, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot continues to believe he’s absolutely killing it with this whole violent authoritarianism thing. Whether using that touted branding genius to rechristen the Secret Service as the S frickin’ S, or drooling all over his chin while describing the National Guard moving against protesters “like a knife cutting butter,” he continues to pimp himself as the not so much “law and order,” but “jackboot on the libs’ necks” candidate. Gross.

Bless his tiny, evil, cholesterol-soaked heart, he really thinks this is going well for him. Anyway, he’s gonna fix this “racism” thing right away, lickety-split. Just like North Korea. And trade. And the Big Dumb Wall. And health care. And the FUCKING PANDEMIC. He alone can fix it, remember?

It seems unapologetic white nationalism ain’t the brand it used to be, because Whinging Mediocrity Tucker Carlson is hemorrhaging advertisers again. I guess we’re supposed to act like Papa John’s and Disney weren’t essentially sponsoring the KKK’s rec league baseball team for years now, but welcome to the 21st century, I suppose. Anyway, poor Liar Tuck may have to subsist on nothing but his inherited Salisbury steak money and his boundless hatred from now on, how tragic.

Turmoil in the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus, as many leading MAGAts are encouraging Boss Turdworm to fire Brad Parscale, replacing him with some other grifting incompetent shitweasel. Seems a bit like putting an ad on Craigslist for a new pilot ten minutes after the last engine explodes, but whatever.

So, apparently a new book about Melania (dear gawd, I would rather chew glass than read such a thing) reveals that, in the early days of the Turd Reich, she blackmailed the Shart of the Deal into renegotiating her pre-nup, refusing to join him in Washington until she got what she wanted. So weird that this “master negotiator” has been run ragged by everyone from China to Chuck n’ Nancy for years, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m grateful that previous incidents of Trumpal humiliation led me to surgically reinforce my diaphragm, otherwise I would have seriously injured myself laughing at this one.

...and then the story of Devin Nunes’ setbacks in the legal fight he picked with a cow on Twitter would surely have killed me.

On the anniversary of the Pulse nightclub shooting, the We’re Absolute Bastards We Thought You’d Be Used to That By Now Administration finalized a rule removing nondiscrimination protections for LGBTQ patients, particularly transgender Americans, in the health care system, yes right in the middle of the pandemic, because hurting people is the only thing they know how to do, and also the only thing they’re interested in doing. I do believe I’ll vote for Joe Biden. 

And in other news, the coronavirus completely disappeared, and stopped killing people, simply because it fell out of the front page headlines OH WAIT THAT ISN’T HOW DISEASES WORK, IS IT?

Good gravy, I can’t wait for the day when this blog is just “President Biden mistakenly referred to the Senate Majority Leader as ‘Buck Schumer,' otherwise everything’s still nice n’ quiet.” Until such time, pray the beer supply chain holds up, friends, or I won’t be able to guarantee my sanity. As ever, stay safe out there. See y'all next week.

*We will not go easy on the criminal charges, but there's no reason to tell Junior that. 

June 10, 2020

From Brian Kemp to Chainsaw Racist, Our Cup (Of Buttholes) Runneth Over (Ferret/Shower Cap)

I worry that I wasted a lot of hyperbole screaming about how insane things were back in the days of soundproof wank booths and botched Easter Egg Rolls, and that I’ll run out of language now that we’re battling a global crisis hydra. Next week, when the birds begin their Hitchcockian assault on humanity, there won’t be any words left, and this blog will simply be onomatopoeic grunts.

(If you want this post with all the links, click here, dear reader: http://showercapblog.com/from-brian-kemp-to-chainsaw-racist-our-cup-of-buttholes-runneth-over/)

Congratulations to any statue-collecting fish dwelling in the River Avon, you hit the motherfucking jackpot this week when protesters dumped the statue of notorious slaver Nice Try, Your Shitty Name Isn’t Getting Into My Blog, just the first of many monuments to white supremacists consigned to the dustbin of history this week, both literally and figuratively. Bye, asshole statues!

Angela Merkel didn’t “like” a social media post he made about how antifa ruined McDonald’s fries or something similarly batshit, so Weehands McNodick suddenly decided to pull about 1/3rd of our troops out of Germany, just the latest demonstration that the Trump Doctrine, to the extent that it exists, is largely hissy-fit-based. “I’m so mad I better give Putin something else he wants! MEADOWS! A fresh diaper, on the double!”

So, those jobs numbers Shart Garfunkel heralded last week apparently weren’t nearly as rosy as initially presented, because “some people were mistakenly characterized as employed rather than unemployed.” Now, all of this is miles over my head, but isn’t sorting the employed from the unemployed the entire fucking point of the jobs report? This feels like ordering a pizza, only to receive three slices plus a pair of sweat socks with a note explaining that some non-pizza items were mistakenly characterized as pizza.

In saner times, any campaign aide would have immediately been fired for approvingly platforming a chainsaw-wielding, n-word-spewing, protester-threatening maniac, but when you get that push notification in a couple of days announcing Mercedes Schlapp has instead been named Acting Secretary of Defense, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

Chainsaw Racist will be teaming up with Handless Incel (in prison) soon enough. Oh, you hadn’t heard about Handless Incel? Well, I’ve spoiled the ending, but I won’t deprive you of the other pleasures of this story; while karma hasn’t yet caught up to the world’s most prominent and powerful scumfucks, at least it’s keeping busy.

Seems even George W. Bush won’t back Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot this November, so perhaps the ghosts of everyone Dubya got killed have slipped some sound political advice into their nightly haunting. Word is, the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus is positively giddy to run against W, imagining “even the war criminals from my own party can’t stand me” is some sort of magical electoral cure-all, like, “hey, remember that one guy you hated twelve years ago? Doesn’t he just make you forget all about how you lost your job and you can’t go to restaurants because the President can’t do one fucking thing right? No? Think really hard about 2008. Please. Please clap.” thus achieving the poetic justice of becoming the very Jeb(!) they once mocked.

If you ever wondered what would happen if you threw a fear-crazed vigilante mob for an imaginary antifa invasion, and antifa never came, wonder no longer. Once again mistaking their 4chan posts and misspelled memes for “intel,” bunches of terrified idiot white people all over the country became convinced that “busloads of antifa” were coming to their small town to fuck shit up, presumably because the antifas had run out of shit to fuck up in the big bad city. Anyway, everybody had a real nice time playing dress-up, and maybe the real busloads of antifa were the friends we made along the way.

In their ongoing effort to spread American Carnage beyond humanity to all species of life, the Turdmaggot Administration rolled back century-old protections for wild birds. Why? Because they hate everyone and everything. Every. Living. Thing. They’re gonna try to ram the Mandatory Puppy Mills Replacing Every Playground in America Act through in the lame duck session, just you watch.

Something really has changed in this country, though.

Who would have imagined that Tangerine Idi Amin’s long-lusted-after Authoritarian Power Grab and Off-Brand Tear Gas Sho would have turned the entire country against racist, militarized police overnight? Public opinion has shifted more sharply than I would have thought possible a year ago.

Shit, this last week saw the stunning public debut of WOKE WILLARD, a suspiciously Mitt-Romney-shaped Black Lives Matter marcher.

Why, even the National Football League suddenly noticed that racism is a thing, and gosh, IF ONLY someone associated with that organization had done something to peacefully bring that issue to their attention a few years ago, right?

Anyway, let’s do something a bit uncharacteristic for this silly little poo joke blog.

Let’s take a moment to chronicle the PROGRESS for once, because there’s certainly been a stunning amount of it in a very short time.

In Los Angeles, NYC, and elsewhere, cities are vowing to redirect some of their riot-gear-and-tear-gas budget to more useful, less When All You Have is a Baton, Everything Looks Like a Skull type solutions. ‘Bout time.

The Minneapolis city council has pledged to disband the whole dang police department, and start over with something new. Considering all the tire-slashing and pepper spray joyriding that’s gone on, yeah, pulling this rotten plant out by the roots makes sense.

In New York, state lawmakers banned the use of chokeholds by law enforcement, and repealed a law that kept officers’ disciplinary records secret from the public, because apparently there was a point in time when somebody thought that was a good idea, OK BOOMER, did I use that right?

The Washington, D.C. city council passed reforms of their own, banning chokeholds, as well as all Hairplug Himmler’s favorite protester-suppressing tactics: tear gas, pepper spray, stun grenades, and rubber bullets. There are almost too many reforms to keep track of, so I’m happy to let this dude on Twitter keep track of ‘em for me.

Fuck, now even the Army is suddenly “open to discussions” about maybe renaming those bases currently glorifying Confederate leaders, and uh, yay for progress, but why the fuck are y’all just getting to this now? Is it really good for morale to train at Camp Treasonous Loser? I feel like I’d be more inspired by figures who were loyal. And, y’know...successful.

And on an unrelated topic, new studies show that lockdown orders spared the world tens of millions of coronavirus infections, saving millions of lives, and does it not warm your battered heart to learn that not all of 2020’s endless stream of bullshit has been in vain? That your significant-but-ultimately-manageable sacrifices made a real difference, even if the FUCK SOCIETY GIMMIE MAH HAIRCUT crowd will never acknowledge or appreciate them? Hell with ‘em. We saved millions, and got a few solid Netflix binges and closet reorganizations out of it to boot. Go, us.

See, wasn’t it nice to read all that GOOD news for a change? I feel all clean and sparkly now. Like a dish soap commercial. Anyway, time to swing back by the buffet to load up our plates with more shit. You didn’t think we were done with the bad news, didja? Oh, my sweet summer child.

The Shart House brain trust is reportedly considering wheeling Donnie Dotard out in front of the public to give a speech on race and unity, and my first thought was “wow, and risk alienating his white supremacist hate cult base?” Anyway, I’m excited for it; it’ll be a train wreck so spectacular I expect Harrison Ford to escape from it in order to chase down a one-armed man.

Redactor General William Barr has been so busy ordering violent crackdowns on peaceful protesters he hasn’t been able to keep up with the latest version of the official story, undercutting Boss Shart’s ridiculous “bunker inspector” spin during an interview with Fux Nooz. It’s actually kinda cute that these dipshit crooks can’t keep their lies straight. The bungling lends a slapstick element to the attempted fascist takeover of the United States that will likely seem more amusing 20 minutes after Joseph Robinette has been sworn in.

Oh hey, we’re officially in a recession, that’s neat. Just like every time we elect a Republican President. But hey, when your vote can be bought as cheaply as empty bellowing about an imaginary “War on Xmas,” you have to expect this sort of thing.

While our old chum the coronavirus has largely fallen off the front page, it’s still killing hundreds of people every day, probably because pandemics, unlike Presidents, don’t curl up in bed to mainline cheeseburgers and rage-tweet all weekend when they don’t like their press coverage. So naturally, Fat Q*Bert thinks it’s the perfect time to hit the road for Klanfest 2020, offering Cult45 up to COVID-19 like a sacrifice to a volcano god. At this point, I say fuck it. Crank the AC, toss the masks, shit, let’s install vomitoriums* for these creeps. Go crazy, dolts.

I see the latest presidentially-designated enemy of the state is Martin Gugino, the 75-year-old man who the lying librul media would have you believe was violently assaulted by Buffalo PD officers, but who is in fact a secret antifa super spy and also a ninja with a robot arm that has a flamethrower built into the pointer finger, a Russian propaganda agent on fucking OAN told us so. This episode helpfully provided further evidence of the Theory of Senate Republican Spinelessness, which I think is ready for publication now.

Brian Kemp and his Georgia partymates remain deathly afraid of their voters, and in honor of the state’s primary today, they held a charity concert to benefit their fading white nationalist majority, playing all the greatest voter suppression hits including the smash single Not Enough Voting Machines in Minority Neighborhoods (Plus the Ones They’ve Got Don’t Work). The encore, There Are No Lines in White Precincts How Strange really brought the house down, assuming the house is democracy, and everyone was excited to hear Kemp’s new song, You’re All Too Distracted With Trump’s Bullshit (To Stop Me From Pulling This Again in November.)

And now I see the previously mentioned race n’ unity speech will be written by Sneering Hatemarmot Stephen Miller himself?  How can I, with my humble exaggerations and petty hyperbole, hope to compete with real life?

Well. Another absolutely disastrous day for the Shart’s re-election chances, and another day Ruth Bader Ginsburg survived, so I’m gonna go ahead and call it a win and drink till I fall asleep. Stay safe out there, Resisters...

*I know they weren’t real, so you can save that “well, actually, Cap...” comment. You know who you are. 

June 6, 2020

This Week in Hell: All Antifa's Fault, According to Bill Barr (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Golly, it’s a good thing I have a blog instead of a podcast, because while I’ve screamed myself hoarse yelling at the news this week, my typin’ fingers are just fine. I guess all of my fingers are “typin’ fingers,” now that I think of it. My thumbs are also fine, if you were wondering. Um. You probably want me to stop talkin’ phalanges and get to the news, right? Got it.

(Yup yup, as usual, find this post, with links, here: http://showercapblog.com/this-week-in-hell-all-antifas-fault-according-to-bill-barr/)

Monday night was, for me, the darkest moment of this entire four-year nightmare. This was the Donald Trump I’d feared, the one who kept me up on election night 2016; the wannabe dictator playing with the military like a spoiled child carelessly tossing his toys around, trampling our constitutional rights without a moment’s hesitation. It was scary as fuck, to be honest...especially wondering what would come next.

Well, I am beyond thrilled to see that Operation: American Tiananmen Square has backfired spectacularly. New critics of the administration’s horrific show of force emerge practically hourly, and the public has responded like Tucker Carlson at a soul food restaurant. Best of all, the protests continue to grow in numbers while the violence has all but disappeared; these protesters shame the bloodthirsty fascists with their peacefulness.

Of course, all over the country, police are still knocking the hell out of people protesting police brutality, and the fact that so many departments and officers are trying to beat the American people into accepting this unacceptable situation where we pay taxes to fund this terrifyingly-militarized force that reserves the right to harm or even kill us at will is...not my favorite thing going on right now.

But the officers who stood idly by while Derek Chauvin crushed the life out of George Floyd have at last been arrested and charged, and additional abusive officer suspensions/firings/prosecutions are stacking up around the country. Police culture isn’t adapting to this new reality particularly well, as evidenced by the Buffalo PD’s nauseating attempt to lie about an incident where officers assaulted a 75-year-old man and left him bleeding on the ground. Like, the video has been posted everywhere; the whole world saw what happened. We’re all trapped in quarantine looking at recordings of this shit all day long, you fucks.

Team Treasonweasel thought they finally had a fact check of their own to throw at the lügenpresse, claiming the media lied in reporting Hairplug Himmler’s obscene military action in Lafayette Square utilized tear gas, darkly-if-hilariously insisting they instead used...a different type of gas that causes tearing. Tear gas, yes, but not like, TEAR GAS tear gas. I have no fucking idea what they hoped to accomplish with that shit, maybe they’re trying to win back the fiscal conservative crowd by using a generic, off-brand chemical irritant banned in international warfare? Anyway, after several days of pathetic-even-by-Trump-era-standards-which-is-sayin’-something gaslighting, US Park Police admitted, “ok, we tear-gassed ya, and we would’ve gotten away with it too, if you snooping reporters didn’t the find the fucking canisters we left laying on the ground. This whole ‘police state’ thing is new to us, and we forgot to cover our tracks.”

Bunker Bitch really hates that the world knows what a bunker bitch he is, and rather amusingly tried to spin his public humiliation (a narcissist’s worst nightmare, no doubt the reason he had people gassed in the first place) by claiming he was suddenly struck, in the middle of the protests surrounding the Shart House, with an insatiable desire to inspect his wee bunker. Sure, kid. You probably just wanted to see if you could get enough reception to tweet while cowering under the bed, right? Needless to say, all the fact-checking sites agree, he is indeed one big ol’ bunker bitch.

Meanwhile Bilious Billy Barr’s patchwork gestapo patrols the streets of the nation’s capital. They’re an unidentified, unaccountable hodgepodge of federal prison guards, DEA/ATF agents, and Baskin Robbins shift managers deployed to occupy an American city and menace the American citizens who live there. I have to say, Willy, for this overwhelmingly-disastrous fascist takeover test run, the bayonets were a fantastic choice, and I appreciate the attention to detail you bring to your insidious plot to destroy American democracy; it shows you really care.

Defense Secretary Mark Esper said he thought maybe deploying active duty military forces against peaceful protesters wasn’t the greatest idea in the world, welcome comments for a nation suddenly wondering just where the lines would wind up being drawn, following-illegal-orders-wise. Naturally, this commitment to basic human decency and the rule of law infuriated the Tiny-Fisted Tyrant, so Esper is probably on the way out now. President Dunning-Krueger Overdrive’s inner circle keeps on getting smaller and crazier; by Election Day it’ll be down to Jar-Jar and Ivanka, Stephen Miller, and a troll doll possessed by the ghost of Roy Cohn.

I see Jim Mattis unretired the Mad in Mad Dog, finally opening up that can of whoop-ass he’d been saving on a certain Farthuffin’ Fascist for using the US military to help him cosplay Gaddafi on Monday night. Many believe Mattis has much more mega-catty gossip about his former boss to drop, from his alienation of our global allies to his penchant for dribbling Big Mac sauce all over the Situation Room floor. We’ll see.

Shit is absolutely fucking awful right now, and there’s no end in sight, so let’s all give ourselves the gift of a moment or two to just laugh our damn asses off over the fact that Fat Q*Bert got caught committing voter fraud. Go ahead. Bust a gut. I’ll still be here when you’re done.

Oh, and Steve King’s congressional career died a most welcome death this week, when the hateful old twerp finally lost his primary. This news delights all decent people, of course, but no one is happier than the House GOP Caucus, who will merrily return to their dog whistles now that Quiet Part Out Loud Guy will finally be gone. King didn’t lose because he’s a fucking Nazi, by the way; he’s always been a Nazi, and the voters of his district 100% always understood that he’s a Nazi, it’s just that now he’s a Nazi who got booted from his committee assignments, so he’s of no fucking use to them anymore.

A bumper crop of white nationalist losers (but I repeat myself) are beginning their thrilling new lives behind bars, as they’re arrested for trying to start shit during the George Floyd protests, but even though the FBI’s own intelligence finds no antifa involvement in the protest-adjacent violence, Redactor General Barr keeps on chanting ANTIFA ANTIFA ANTIFA anyway. Ah, antifa, such a useful all-purpose boogeyman for terrified white conservatives. Antifa steals the socks from your dryers. Antifa casts all those ethnic people on sitcoms. That unclaimed fart? The one that smelled like asparagus smothered in Munster and ballsweat? Antifa.

Why? Well, take this story, for example: seems some deranged fuckheads in Washington state actually took it upon themselves to terrorize a random, totally innocent family of campers, because they had “intel” that they were “antifas.” Well, William, you’re absolute shit at your day job, but you certainly have a bright future in stochastic terrorism.

Look, Rand Paul is a young man yet, maybe he’s just trying to keep his options open. That’s the only thing I can think of that might explain why this preening filibuster addict is single-handedly holding up an anti-lynching bill in the Senate. Paul even went so far as to jagsplain lynching to Senators Harris and Booker, because shame just isn’t a thing anymore.

You probably remember Dead-Eyed Murder Porn Fanfic Writer/Arkansas Senator Tom Cotton jerkin’ it to the idea of the American military initiating a new civil war against the increasingly-peaceful protest movement sweeping the nation. Well, the New York Times saw this bloodthirsty call to violence and said, SOMEBODY GET THIS MAN A PLATFORM! Y’know, maybe it’s time to clean the windows of your ivory tower when the backlash from handing a megaphone to a sadistic wannabe autocrat catches you by surprise. Just a tip.

Condolences to the statue of Robert E. Lee in Richmond, Virginia, which is being retired from duty and removed; it can’t possibly be easy to find a new gig as a monument to white supremacy in this job market. Aw. Who will Richmond’s racist losers look to for inspiration now? WILL NO ONE THINK OF THE RACIST LOSERS?

Speaking of racist losers, back to Donald Trump. (ZING!) Seems he’s getting all pissy with North Carolina Governor Roy Cooper over the Republican National Convention. While Cooper opposes turning his state into a COVID hot zone over a Klan rally, Wee Don fears social distancing and mask-wearing will come off as “weak,” and yeah, that ship sailed with the whole cowering-in-a-bunker thing, but whatever. Anyway, I’m sorry, Governor, the only path Government Cheese Goebbels sees to turning his cratering poll numbers around is through a massive human sacrifice to the shittiest elder gods in this (or any) universe. To be fair, he’s probably right.

But he demands social distance from YOU, dear reader, as demonstrated by the ever-expanding BUNKER. The Bunker grows and grows, as a fenced-off security perimeter walls off more and more of D.C. from the people seemingly every day, for the President is a trembling coward. (Many are calling him a “Bunker Bitch,” I am told.) THE BUNKER is coming to a town near you! At the rate it’s swelling, it may soon engulf the whole world! No one is safe from...THE BUNKER!

The Texas Republican Party is dealing with a rash of local officials posting lunatic conspiracy theories and mega-racist memes on social media, with Governor Greg Abbott going so far as to call for a couple of resignations. Given the Lone Star State GOP’s well-earned reputation in these particular areas, especially in light of Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick’s nonstop flow of mouth-diarrhea in recent weeks, I’d really love to see the party rule book on what, precisely, constitutes unacceptable behavior here; I imagine it’s as awkwardly gerrymandered as the state’s congressional districts.

I’m being told that Alaska Senator Lisa Murkowski has been designated the Bravest of All Possible Little Toasters, even after giving Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot a pass on his extremely illegal Ukraine extortion scheme, because now she’s “struggling” with whether or not to vote for the career criminal who turned the US military on peaceful American citizens. So, sorry Unarmed Protesters Heroically Facing Down Abusive Militarized Police, it is Murkowski, a recent graduate of the Susan Collins School for Useless Dithering, who gets all the Profiles in Courage trophies; you can have some pepper spray instead, tho.

For another lesson in misattributed courage, let’s turn to Iowa’s Chuck Grassley, who announced he’ll hold up two Shart Administration appointments until he’s given a reason, any will likely do, for the recent rash of inspector general purges. Some will no doubt be tempted to give Chuckles credit for showing more spine than anyone in his craven caucus has in years, but don’t be surprised when he accepts a hotel bar napkin that reads, “Oh, let’s say one of ‘em got caught clipping their toenails in the break room, and the other one always spoils HBO shows on Facebook.”

These days Donnie Two-Scoops inhales “LAW & ORDER” and exhales “I AM GOING TO PARDON MY BUDDY ROGER STONE EVEN THOUGH HE COMMITTED MANY FELONIES,” and to be fair, his tiny walnut brain is likely incapable of understanding the hypocrisy. While it’s infuriating to watch him abuse his power like this even as he refuses to lift a (tiny, inadequate) finger to stop the spread of the coronavirus, I do enjoy knowing that the pardon power will be long gone when he’ll want it most.

You could probably use another laugh right about now. Well, Shart House press secretary Kayleigh McEnany has apparently committed voter fraud too. Why do I have the sudden feeling that Junior and Eric are about to declare themselves residents of Wisconsin?

Apparently worried that African-American voters were insufficiently motivated to fire his third-rate Klansman ass, the Adderall-Addled Assclown decided today would be a good day to put George Floyd’s name in his mouth and dare America to slap it out. I won’t presume to speak for the dead myself, but no, I do not believe any of the recent victims of police violence are high-fiving you over your awesome jobs numbers, also you’re the reason there are so many millions unemployed in the first place, also SHUT YOUR STUPID LITTLE BUTTHOLE MOUTH, YOU SOULLESS CROTCHWART.

Meanwhile, the Die Plebs Die Administration, while continuing to neglect its coronavirus responsibilities, has merrily used the pandemic as an excuse to suspend hundreds of regulations designed to protect working folks from our corporate overlords. See, looting isn’t bad when it’s done by the stroke of a pen. Anyway, I’m sure looking forward to buying my COVID-19 vaccine on credit at the company store.

Now, this week has been a lot, obviously, I mean A LOT, and I’m just trying to hang onto my sanity, and I was doing pretty well until I came across this CDC study that says more than a third of Americans actually listened to Doctor Dotard when he told them to ingest Lysol, and that they’re doing insane shit like GARGLING BLEACH. Look I believe the right to vote is absolutely sacred, but maybe the motherfucking BLEACH GARGLERS should be excluded from the leadership-choosing discussion. There, I said it.

...and now I see Bill Fucking Barr, having previously admitted to ordering the Lafayette Square attack, is feverishly backtracking, probably on account of realizing he’d confessed to a very large crime. I had to write three different paragraphs about Barr tonight. I need a fucking shower.

Fuuuuuuuuuck. I can’t take this shit anymore. There is absolutely stuff I missed tonight, but if I covered everything, I’d still be writing this post come Sunday morning. Forgive me. I’m gonna go ingest one very specific liquid that is actually designed for ingestion now. Stay safe, friends.  

June 3, 2020

I'm Sending This Week's News Back to the Kitchen; Too Much Fascism (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Well, whoever had “it’ll get worse before it gets better” in the pool, congratulations, I guess. I’m happy to turn over your winnings so long as you can promise to deliver that second part. Anyway, the challenge before me right now is to get through this blog without saying “fascist” or “fascism” every other sentence. Wish me luck.

(You can find this post, with news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/im-sending-this-weeks-news-back-to-the-kitchen-too-much-fascism/)

So, you may have missed it, but last night, the President of the United States, a liar, a con man, a thief, a fraud, a bully, a coward (but I repeat myself), a mouth-breathing shitwit, a serial sex offender, a walking sack of monkey crap, quite possibly the worst human being alive, terrified as the walls close in and the fruits of his failures drop and rot all around him, his polling numbers plummeting, forcing him to contemplate life beyond the shield of presidential immunity, proclaimed himself the “ally of all peaceful protesters,” even as police and the National Guard fired tear gas into a crowd of peaceful protesters in Lafayette Park, dispersing them so he could waddle over to St. John’s to pose for glamour shots while awkwardly waving a Bible he was clutching like a turd he was trying to hold by the clean end.

Now, I’ll tell you something, my dear, dear friends...those photographs are going to be in American history books for generations to come. The context, however, is up to us, right here, right now. I’m hoping the caption is “Terrified Loser’s Pathetic Authoritarian Stunt Leads to Historic Electoral College Blowout and Eventual Arrest,” but don’t forget the Stephen Millers of the world are angling for more of a “Dear Leader Crushes Vermin, Proclaims Self Turd Emperor For Life” kind of scenario, followed by lots of shouting and saluting and marching and god knows what other terrible, terrible, shit. This is a good time to triple-check that you’re registered to vote, is all I’m saying.

Protests continued after the sun set and the curfews kicked in, leading to the decidedly-not-awesome image of a U.S. Army Blackhawk helicopter deployed against Americans in the nation’s very capital. Donald, I’m sorry your parents didn’t love you (although clearly they were onto something there, you psychotic fuck), but military aircraft are not toys, and you don’t get to take your inferiority complex out on us, we have fucking rights.

What it comes down to here is that these protesters, and indeed all decent Americans, believe that Black Lives Matter, while our dirtbag Klansman President...disagrees. He disagrees so much he’s threatened to deploy the U.S. military on American soil to intimidate, and even kill his constituents. This dehumanization and violence seems to be his entire reelection strategy, and y'know, I think I’m probably gonna vote for the other fellow.

Word is, Toupee Fiasco gave in to his inner jackbooted thug because he was mad America was calling him “Bunker Bitch” on account of how he responded to the weekend’s protests by cowering in his bunker like a bitch. So this was a show of “strength,” you see. You might be tempted to question what, precisely, is “strong” about having a fucking platoon clear out a park for you ahead of a short stroll, but please remember this is a 73-year-old man who has yet to figure out simple devices like umbrellas or pants; expecting complex analytical thought from him is entirely unfair, and almost mean. Anyhow, immediately after getting his picture taken, Bunker Bitch slithered back to his bunker. What a little bitch.

And he sure does like talkin’ tough from the safety of that bunker. On a conference call, he berated the nation’s governors for being insufficiently murderous, demanding they “dominate” the protesters using military force, pausing only to ask Chief of Staff Mark Meadows to bring him a new juice box and wash his security blankie, which he had once again soiled in terror. See, Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops wants his police state, but he wants the governors to impose it for him. "Bunker Bitch" isn't just a moniker, it's an entire lifestyle; sorta like fascist Goop.

Oh, but good news everybody, even though the country is burning, FLAGS ARE FINALLY SAFE. Yes, Strawberry Shartcake, attuned as ever the issues the public cares most about, figures his all-new, sex-criminal-infused Supreme Court is totally open to slapping an asterisk on the First Amendment, and he really isn’t giving the pandemic so much as a single passing thought, is he?

Ok, the REAL good news is that Senate Republicans have finally had enough, gassing Americans peacefully exercising their constitutional rights was one atrocity too far, and they will tolerate no more. Mitch McConnell and John Barrasso said so during a press conference where both men were riding on talking unicorns and then I woke up in the real world where they didn’t do shit.

Naturally, the Turdmaggot Administration told a bunch of easily-disproven lies about their appalling crackdown, because the Monday Night Special is a free side of gaslighting with your fascism. “We didn’t use tear gas!” they insisted, to the crowd that was tear-gassed. “People were throwing shit at us,” they bellowed, proving only that they weren’t carved by Gepetto. Naturally, it turned out Bilious Billy Barr ordered the attack personally, in what was surely the most gratifying moment of his entire shitty authoritarian life. Personally, I would like William Barr to spend the rest of his life as unhappy as possible at the direction this country is taking, wouldn’t you?

Across the country, local police forces decked out like Call of Duty avatars responded to those protesting police brutality with...an awful fucking lotta police brutality. Now, I confess I never studied public relations, but this seems a wee bit on the counterproductive side to me. Some of the most abusive officers have been fired, and some are already facing charges, which is good. Of course, with over 100 separate instances of police targeting journalists, it seems the argument isn’t “is excessive police violence a thing?” but rather “do you think you can fucking stop us, peasants?”

Now, there are all kinds of rat-bastards slinking about in and around these protests, inciting violence and giving the entire movement a bad name. If I can find any spare time I’m considering publishing A Children’s Treasury of Dirtbag White Kids Causing Property Damage Black People Will Get Blamed For, lord knows I wouldn’t want for material. From the suburbanite mall looters to the masked creeps smashing windows to the skeezy little brat who set fire to the historic Metro Nashville courthouse, one natural resource we are in absolutely no danger of depleting is Shitty White People. I want a give a special shout-out to the utterly failed human who felt entitled to scream “all lives matter” while preparing to commit homicide with a fucking hunting bow; you’re going to be awfully popular in prison, bro.

Lost in the chaos, the Treasonweasel Administration continues its purge of patriotic law enforcement officials, forcing the FBI’s general counsel to resign over his role in the case against Mutinous Mike Flynn. Considering recently-released documents clearly show Flynn A) absolutely committed the crime he pleaded to and B) allowed himself to be manipulated by Sergey Kislyak like cheap off-brand Play-Doh, I confess I don’t see why this treacherous clod is worth wrecking the Justice Department over, but then, unlike the current occupants of the federal government, I actually love my country.

President Gas Station Urinal Cake has frequently come off during this Dagwood Sandwich of crises as a bit of a, how shall I put this, a bit of an unfeeling sociopath? Me, I don’t think that’s quite fair. Oh sure, he doesn’t give a single fuck about the 108,000 coronavirus deaths, and he’s doing everything he can to dehumanize protesters so he can justify assaulting or even massacring them, but I think you have to look at the whole picture. Honestly, doesn’t his unshakable loyalty to Vlad Putin bring a tear (admittedly a tear of rage) to your eye? Sure, his BFF* attacked the United States and invaded a sovereign neighbor, but Wee Don still does all he can to sneak his pal back into the G7; it would be really sweet if it wasn’t so, y’know, treasonous.

Meanwhile, Redactor General Barr grows more comfortable in his jodhpurs every day, casually lumping all protesters under one happy, enemy-of-the-state umbrella, bellowing DURR DURR DURR ANTIFA DURR DURR, knowing this would be all the evidence he’d ever need to rile up MAGA nation; they’re like Pavlov’s cult, you say “antifa,” “deep state,” or “Obamagate,” and they just start slobbering all over themselves. Or maybe they were already drooling, I neither know nor care.

One of the really fun things about life here in Hell is the way we’re all at the mercy of Mark Zuckerberg, a damaged manchild who, not unlike Shart Garfunkel himself, stumbled backwards into awesome power he willfully refuses to understand, and with it the accompanying responsibility which he is neither willing nor qualified to bear. Anyway, Zuck, whose cancerous hot-or-not platform has already been used as a tool of genocide once before, is quite adamant that he will not allow something silly like calls to remove a dime store Hitler’s violence-inciting rants from his hellsite interfere in any way with the sweet, sweet ad revenue that winds up in Mark Zuckerberg’s pocket.

I see George Will penned what political media types are calling a “scathing takedown” of Tangerine Idi Amin, a “(figurative) nuclear bomb,” and a “laugh-a-minute thrill ride, perfect for children of all ages.” Just take my word for it, there’s certainly no need to subject yourself to Georgie’s dreary, florid prose. (Wouldja believe he doesn’t say “shart” even once?)

Arkansas Senator Tom Cotton achieved his first erection in decades, practically lactating over the thought of deploying the U.S. military to mass-murder people who don’t agree with him, going so far as to insist upon ”no quarter,” a sickeningly specific military term literally calling for not just war on American citizens, but war crimes. When Cotton runs for President in a few years (and he will), let’s make sure to tie these bloodthirsty statements around his ankle like a cartoon anchor; you know the type, attached to a rope he doesn’t notice, so he drones smugly on and on until it finally yanks him into the sea, mid-rant? Of course, given the trajectory of the Republican Party, he’ll probably make that shit his official campaign slogan.

Florida Congresscreep Matt Gaetz attempted his own version of Cotton’s deranged murder fantasy, no doubt hoping to deceive Hairplug Himmler into perceiving him as a Big Tuff Guy instead of the Softest Boy in All the Land, which is what he indubitably is. Matty got a Twitter spanking, and whined about it like a child, because of course he did.

And of course the coronavirus lurks in the background, no doubt delighted at all of the fun new people it’s getting to meet, and positively giddy at all the cough-inducing tear gas providing that extra boost a contagion really needs to survive n’ thrive. It’s like a forgotten subplot, but I’m afraid the little fucker has a really showy number coming up in Act III.

Through it all, Joe Biden has remained a listenin’, kneelin’, sense-talkin’ fool. Joe meets people face to face while Bunker Bitch trembles in his basement. Joe offers plans while Donnie lobs tear gas. Joe’s out there reminding us what the word “presidential” means, just as the Merriam-Webster people were getting ready to strike it from the book once and for all. If you’ve got a buck to spare for a donation, now’s the time.

Ugh. Folks, I’m sorry it wasn’t very funny today, or very thorough. I’m angry, and I’m scared, and I’m sad, and I’m exhausted. And I’m a comfortable white dude, so compared to most folks, I’ve got it fuckin’ made. Anyway, if I missed anything, or misspelled anything, please forgive me, I find I start drinking earlier and earlier these days...

*Best Fascist Friend 

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