TheFerret
TheFerret's JournalAmerica Went to Sturgis and All We Got Was This Lousy Nationwide Covid Outbreak (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Longtime readers will recall that in previous posts, I’ve described life under the Turd Reich as like being trapped in a dryer filled with hammers and badgers. After all these years, I stick to that assessment, and I have to admit I’m impressed at the way they keep cycling in fresh badgers. It never fucking stops, does it?
(You can get this post, with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/america-went-to-sturgis-and-all-we-got-was-this-lousy-nationwide-covid-outbreak/)
Fallout from the-troops-are-scum-unworthy-to-lick-my-boots-my-Daddy-was-rich-you-see-gate continues, as the Treasonweasel Administration struggles to deny the Most Believable Story in Human History. Like, if somebody leaked some shit about Donald Trump, say, helping a young person struggling with a disability, I mean, fuckin’ nobody would believe that, but what we’ve got here is “Known Shithead is Shithead in Extremely Familiar Fashion,” so you’re fucked, creeps.
Not that their efforts haven’t been adorable. When they brought back, of all the credibility-deficient stooge surrogates, Sarah Huckleberry Slanders, to belch up the official Indignant Denial, fuck, it was like watching Paula Deen scoldingly insist there’s no such thing as butter.
But better still was the Bonespur Buttplug’s own pathetic lie, that he called home to Melania, seeking comfort cuz he was just so gosh-darn sad to miss that cemetery visit, when Melania was right there with him on the whole fuckin’ trip. Perfection. That’s not only priceless insight into the frigid workings of our warped, Tennessee-Williams-by-way-of-David-Cronenberg first “family,” but also one of those useless, childish lies of his that completely exposes his sniveling apologists, with a light so clear and holy it could only have come from God’s own asshole.
Anyway, in his quest to demonstrate what a troop-lovin’, normal-human-emotion-havin’ fool he is, President Crotchrot decided to sic his frequently-violent harassment mob on philanthropist Laurene Powell Jobs, since she owns a stake in the Atlantic, which caused this whole kerfuffle in the first place, with their dastardly journalism. The fallback plan always seems to be stochastic terrorism, isn’t that weird? I think it’s weird.
Further attempts to prove his nigh-CareBearsian love of the military culminated in accusing the Pentagon of war-mongering and -profiteering and -othernaughtinesscausing, and if you need a chuckle, Team Turdmaggot is counting on this dolt’s rhetorical skillz to turn things around at the debates. If y’all wanna bring the Person Woman Man Camera TV dude to a Joe Biden fight, I’m not exactly gonna tackle you in the hallway, y’know?
It seems the Hairplug That Ate Decency isn’t quite done rubbing his seeping, malformed genitals all over the Presidential Medal of Freedom, which he has now chosen to award to Lou Holtz, who I am told is some sort of college sports coach, but who is receiving the nation’s highest civilian honor for impugning Joe Biden’s faith at the apocalyptic screechfest men call the Republican National Convention. Surely Kyle Rittenhouse can’t be far behind.
The novel coronavirus which causes COVID-19 still cannot believe its fucking luck in stumbling across the festering stewpot of freedumb-crazed selfishness that is 21st America. “After more than six months, they’re still gathering in ridiculously large groups for me to feast upon? I mean, I don’t get it, but I’m not gonna complain! It’s like a buffet that comes right to your house!” said the virus, later asking me for a list of upcoming Trump campaign events.
Because yeah, those reckless school reopenings have indeed led to outbreaks all over the country, exactly like the experts repeatedly told us they would. If this truly is, as the dumbest and loudest among us seem to believe, a massive long con perpetrated by a sinister cabal of doctors and scientists, let me just say David Mamet has really outdone himself with this one. The wingnut superspreader event in Sturgis, South Dakota was an inspired choice, if may say so, maestro.
A new study links that particular douchebag mass tantrum to nearly 20% of the new COVID-19 cases in the United States over the course of a month, a quarter of a million confirmed infections, because I guess a culture war is waged by dropping bombs on your own culture. The study estimates the ultimate public health cost of this play date for the emotionally stunted will be $12.2 billion, and even factoring in scalpers, that seems like a pretty hefty price tag for a motherfucking Smash Mouth concert.
It’s particularly obscene, watching South Dakota Governor Kristi Noem’s unseemly attempt to ride a wave of her constituents’ corpses to MAGA superstardom. I understand she plans to publish a memoir, “How to Get Ahead in a White Supremacist Death Cult,” in Spring 2021, a limited run printed entirely on the unused diary pages of coronavirus victims.
Because his campaign has devolved into a white nationalist shitfit, the Marmalade Shartcannon has proclaimed anti-racism to be un-American, and vowed to root it out wherever he can get his tiny, inadequate little hands around it. Whether it’s diversity training for federal employees or schools using the New York Times’ 1619 Project in their curriculum, he remains dedicated to stamping out progress in the name of the white and subpar, for he is their Piss-Coated Turd God.
That’s the closing message, by the way: nobody understands the plight of a shitty white guy better than Donald J. Trump. Hell, he needed every advantage the system could provide, plus a billionaire father to boot, just to keep from starving to death ten minutes after leaving home.
It’s truly a shame Gordon Lightfoot is no longer with us to immortalize the Dipshit MAGAt Boat Parade on Lake Travis in song. Now, we all enjoyed a richly-deserved laugh here, but seriously, when the universe keeps slapping you in the fucking face with metaphors this obvious, you HAVE to start noticing, don’t you? Like, as your craft sinks to the bottom of a lake because you have chosen to pass your time amongst the dangerously selfish and incompetent, surely it must occur to you, “holy crud, I’m in a loser cult and all these people are losers and cultists! I need to make some CHANGES!” Surely.
UPDATE: HEY GUESS WHAT? Gordon Lightfoot is alive. That’s actually wonderful news. I don’t know why I thought he was dead, but he’s not. It’s late, and I’m tired, and I’m not rewriting the paragraph, but I’ve never been happier to be wrong.
Enterprising journalists uncovered 2020’s breakout supervillain, Postmaster General Louis DeJoy’s origin story. Hard to believe that before becoming a key lackey in Tangerine Idi Amin’s attempted fascist takeover of the United States, he was merely a humble corrupt businessman, illegally reimbursing employees for the political donations he pressured them to make in the first place. This time next year, Louis is either gonna be behind bars, or giving seminars to the wealthy and unscrupulous on how to buy your way into the kakistocracy.
Won’t be difficult, Strawberry Shartcake certainly needs the cash. The Committee to Re-elect the Taintfungus seems to have burned through what was once a historic funding advantage with nothing to show for it except the ability to draw Joe Biden’s backside from memory, and everything on every Xmas list Brad Parscale e’er dared conjure in the darkest, most decadent recesses of his shitty, grifter mind.
So they’re retreating from the airwaves in must-win swing states, because obviously they don’t want to dip into the tens of millions in Cult45 donations set aside as Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet’s personal legal slush fund. You wish you could make them understand, don’t you? You are a piggy bank to him, nothing more. He would smash you to pieces for four bucks in change.
‘Course, maybe Donnie Two-Scoops will be able to pull himself out of the fiscal quicksand by selling desecrated, excuse me, “autographed” Bibles, designed to commemorate one of the nation’s darkest days, when the old bastard finally went full fascist and used uniformed agents to tear gas peaceful American protesters in Lafayette Square. $37,500 Trump-signed Bibles. I guarantee you Jared Kushner is starting to kick around branding concepts for the second term re-education camps.
Yeah, he’s 31 flavors of Biblical, that Donald Trump. If there’s a Nobel Prize for Christlike Behavior, surely he put the finishing touches on a winning candidacy when he golfed through yet another Sunday while hundreds of Americans died from his pandemic blundering, and for good measure, his shitbag campaign mocked Joe Biden for visiting the graveyard where Beau is buried.
Ummmm...what else? I see Wrinkly Gamera has a laughably inadequate coronavirus “relief” bill, because he still thinks the unemployed can be tricked into believing they have jobs. Live by the gaslight, die by the gaslight, motherfuckers.
Oh, now I see Bilious Bill Barr is trying to get the Department of Justice, you know, the one paid for by American taxpayers, to take over the defense in E. Jean Carroll’s defamation suit against the Rapist-in-Chief. I’m gonna need a tax refund of, ohhhhhh, I’d say just about every penny I’ve ever paid, William. This shit is not in the contract.
And a historic moment for Shower Cap’s Blog, as today’s piece was composed entirely while nude. There is, of course, absolutely no reason for me to tell you this, but I think it adds a little spice to the concluding paragraph, which has grown a bit stale of late. Plus, now you can read the whole thing all over again, and say to yourself, “Ah, I thought he sounded naked here.”
PS - Don’t forget the action guide: http://showercapblog.com/fascist-flushing-2020-guide-house/
Trump 2020: Mass Pandemic Graves, Economic Carnage, Also I Hate the Troops (Ferret/Shower Cap)
I got stung by a bee last night, so there’s a chance that I’ve had an allergic reaction, and hallucinated this week’s news. I understand that it’s a fairly slight chance, but nobody’ll mind if I cling to it like a big ol’ o-shaped cartoon life preserver, right? C’mon, give me a few short hours to believe none of this shit is really happening. Life is good and nice and normal and certainly Batman didn’t get Covid.
(As ever, find this post, WITH nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/trump-2020-mass-pandemic-graves-economic-carnage-also-i-hate-the-troops/)
I see the Department of Homeland Security withheld intelligence about a Russian attack on the Biden campaign, and like, is the NAME OF YOUR FUCKING DEPARTMENT too small for you treacherous fucks to read? I feel like if Americans wanted a Department of Ignoring or Assisting Foreign Attacks, we’d ask for one.
Iowa Senator Joni Ernst, Kool-Aid dribbling down her chin like blood from a freshly-castrated hog, finally took that last sanity-and-decency-abandoning leap demanded by her death cult of a political party, spreading a vile coronavirus conspiracy theory, the kind of mendacious minimization that’s been getting Americans killed for six motherfucking months now. Of course, Joni doesn’t care that her lies will only further spread the virus and prolong the crisis, so long as she can trick juuuust enough rubes into ignoring the severity of her party’s disastrous mismanagement.
Say, this seems like a great spot to plug Shower Cap’s Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide, don’tcha think? If you haven’t yet adopted a few House/Senate races, our crack team of drunken researchers have assembled all the information you need to focus your donation budget, and seasoned that data with poo jokes. We’ve got an amazing group of incumbents and challengers, and on the other side are...wooooooo, plenty of creeps and loons who must be kept away from power at all costs. So check out the Guide, and spread it around!
(http://showercapblog.com/fascist-flushing-2020-guide-house/#ok-05)
So, Nancy Pelosi got a haircut, and, judging by the tantrums the right-leaning folks I went to high school with have been throwing, this haircut is a Very Big Deal, indeed an Infinitely Larger Deal than the botched pandemic response that’s claimed millions of jobs and tens of thousands of lives. Kids, I know it can’t be easy to run on your record when your record is a bucket of festering warthog anuses (and unpopular tax cuts for the wealthy!), but if you’re counting on Nancy’s salon trip to deliver you from your electoral woes, I’m afraid I’ve got some b...
...y’know what? Actually, knock yourselves out. It’s a Pelosi’s Hair election. Obviously. This issue is a goose that lays golden eggs while flawlessly performing oral sex. Promise. You can’t possibly lose.
Redactor General William Barr sat down for an interview with Wolf Blitzer, to parrot a few of his Turd Emperor’s favorite lies, on the alleged evils of voting by mail, and of course the complete absence of racism in American policing. Surprised he didn’t toss in a couple of Dr. Ronny Jackson’s greatest hits for good measure. Bilious Bill is certainly right at home in the Trump/McConnell post-truth, post-shame Republican Party; what does he care that the fact-checkers eviscerated his drivel? He’s the Attorney General and you’re not; so long as he wields that power, it will be wielded corruptly, and in service to institutional white supremacy. You’ve quadruple-checked that you’re registered to vote, right?
Running out of time and options, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot apparently figured his best shot at staying out of prison is getting the Children of the Candy Corn to vote twice. I wonder how Republicans will feel about sentencing reform next year when prisons start filling up with all the wee Shartkin drones eagerly committing this extremely-easy-to-detect felony?
‘Course, maybe he wouldn’t be up shit creek with only a paddle that’s way too big for his wee impotent baby hands if he didn’t constantly try to use the power of his office to fuck over American citizens who live in places that didn’t vote for him. This latest pathetic, extremely unconstitutional scheme, to pull federal funding from cities laughably designated as “anarchist jurisdictions,” only reminds the electorate that he’s a petty thug who despises most of us. SPEAKING OF WHICH...
Of course you’ve already seen Jeffrey Goldberg’s piece in the Atlantic, documenting the Bonespur Buttplug’s disdain for Americans who serve in the military, most particularly the chump losers and suckers who sacrificed their lives. It’s the portrait of a hopelessly broken, turd-souled rat of a man, who despises anyone better than himself*, for the unavoidable disgrace the comparison brings. No wonder he surrounds himself with ziplock-bags-filled-with-anal-leakage like Miller and Bannon.
The Veryfine Valor Thief denied everything, and I bet he wishes he hadn’t cried wolf over stupid shit like crowd sizes now. Anyway, outlet after outlet confirmed the story, up to and including Fux Nooz. At least the mystery of why the commander-in-chief doesn’t seem to care about Russia putting bounties on our troops has been solved.
If y’all don’t mind a segue from abominable disrespect to psychopathically misplaced respect, wingnut CongressDolt Thomas Massie felt the need to praise Teen Terrorist Kyle Rittenhouse, for showing “incredible restraint,” because he only ended two human lives, y’see, he “didn't empty a magazine into a crowd.” Tom. Bro. It’s ok, and actually super normal and healthy, to just say, “murdering people is bad and should be avoided whenever possible,” rather than appreciating Goldilocks for getting her killing spree just right.
It would be cool if there were just the one story this week about a Republican official normalizing political violence, but if there’s one thing 2020 is not fucking around about, it’s the bloodthirsty rage of the white and subpar. What I’m saying is, during this time of unrest and upheaval, when tensions have already boiled over into tragedy too damn many times, Louisiana Congressprick Clay Higgins felt it was extremely important that the world understand just how much he wants to mass-murder Black people.
When Facebook removed his post, (the one expressing his horniness to commit a mass shooting, specifically targeting African-Americans) Higgins felt this, too, was grounds for a lil’ homicidal ideation, and suddenly I’m concerned for the safety of every server who’ll ever have to take Clay’s burger back to the kitchen because it’s not cooked right.
Oddly, Higgins has never expressed a single word of disapproval towards any previous armed-to-the-teeth rage mob, even the one that stormed the statehouse in Michigan a few weeks back. Weird how it’s important to preserve the right to carry firearms openly when it’s a gaggle of spittle-drenched white dudes, but the minute Black folks avail themselves of the same rights, suddenly a U.S. Congressman feels completely comfortable publicly threatening to murder them.
Higgins was of course disciplined by House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy, JUST KIDDING, Kev is too busy rolling out the red carpet for the Q-addled maniac(s?) set to join his Loser Death Cult Caucus next January.
Anyhoo, there’s certainly no better way to push back on a So the President Loathes the Troops scandal than by shutting down Stars and Stripes, the independent military newspaper dating back to the (first?) Civil War. This feels like a shitbag birthday present, an offering from the craven enablers in the Cabinet to their Hemorrhoid God, finally, a media outlet of his very own to crush.
UPDATE: I see Sharty McFly backed down on Stars and Stripes, so there’s some tangible good from a piece of high-quality reporting, even if it’s ultimately only done out of fear of further alienating a crucial voting block. I’ve learned to take victories wherever I fucking well find ‘em.
Shit, I better sign off while there’s still an up note to end on, you never know what that kooky fascist in the White House will do next, right? Actually feels kinda light tonight, which is great, I think we’ve all earned a little weekend. Stay safe out there, friends.
*Meaning, of course, nearly everyone
Abort, My Antifa Comrades! Operation: Bags of Soup Has Been Compromised! (Ferret/Shower Cap)
I feel like I’m trapped on a deserted island with nothing to eat but clown meat, and the clown meat has started to go bad, y’know? Anybody else feel like that?
(Get this post, in color, with news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/abort-my-antifa-comrades-operation-bags-of-soup-has-been-compromised/)
So, we’re finally at the place we’ve sort of abstractly feared from the beginning: Government Cheese Goebbels, a cornered rat facing the loss of the office which is the only thing keeping him out of prison, is lashing out with everything he can get his (tiny, inadequate) hands on, and since he’s President of the United States, it turns out he can get his hands on a whole fucking lot of extremely dangerous shit, from his monstrous pulpit, to the innards of the U.S. Postal Service, to the uniformed thugs who, a seeming lifetime ago, gassed peaceful protesters in Lafayette Square.
And y'all don’t need me to tell you this, but living in America during the Turd Reich’s fascist death rattles is getting pretty goddamn awful. I fucking hate it here. Once this shit is all behind us, I intend to leave a lengthy Yelp review, I’ll tell you that right now.
But hell, while we’re all up anyway, let’s poke around in this Jurassic Park-sized turdpile. It’s not the most pleasant way to pass time, but nobody can call it boring.
Just to set the stage a bit, our poor, Covid-battered nation just celebrated its six millionth confirmed infection. I’m told the milestone patient was presented with a gilded ventilator and two free tickets to Shit I Forgot, Nobody Can Go Anywhere. Still, it’s gonna be zero cases soon. Any minute now, I promise. Right now, six million, with no end in sight, but zero soon. Two weeks. Would I lie to you?
So, the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, (Or ODNI, which is what Jawas say, right?) decided that now would be an appropriate time to halt in-person congressional briefings on foreign election interference, certainly an unconventional choice smack dab in the middle of an election the Russians are absolutely interfering in, according to our intelligence agencies.
Why, it’s almost as though DNI John Ratcliffe is the Louis DeJoy of the intel community, a reckless stooge dutifully carrying out his Turd Emperor’s command to corrupt or destroy whatever is necessary to maintain his tiny-fisted grasp on power. I liked it better when public servants served the public, instead of just one extremely shitty dude.
One of things that’s so strange, and so exhausting lately, is that generally speaking, it really is THAT BAD. Like, I had some bizarre, extremely specific fears at the start of this shitshow, and 2020 has blown them out of the water. 2020 openly taunts my 2016 fears. My 2016 fears were Classic Universal Monster movies, and 2020 is an ominously malodorous wastepaper basket filled with ideas cut from the Saw franchise for being too fucked up.
Because, yes, shit has finally turned violent, in a less scattershot manner than it’s felt like up to this point, anyway. Last week, a radical Trumpist committed an act of terror on American soil, killing two, and our ruling party has chosen to view that incident not as a tragedy, but as a most welcome opportunity to reverse their faltering political fortunes. The violence has been embraced, celebrated, and encouraged.
So it came as no surprise when a caravan of Trumpers drove into Portland, Oregon, firing paintballs and gas at people. It certainly came as no surprise when their provocations turned deadly. I mean, it’s fucking horrifying, watching news footage from an American city and likening it to images you remember from civil wars in third world countries, but surprising? Alas, no. Hey, somebody ask Susan Collins real quick if she still thinks the old fuck learned his lesson?
I guess there’s some really catty gossip about Melania in a new tell-all book from a former friend. Anyhoo, back to America’s shiny new sectarian violence problem:
It’s certainly been super fun watching segments of the right offering the Actually the Murders Committed by the Child Soldier Were Good take; normalizing political homicide is obviously the sort of thing that takes place only in extremely healthy societies.
So-called “Christian” charities have been raising funds for the young terrorist, and ok, I admit I’m an atheist, but I have retained some residual morality from the Sunday school lessons of my youth, and I’m sure I’d remember a bit where God went, “Blessed are the heavily armed teens who’ve been radicalized online, for they do murderously uphold institutional white supremacy.” I’m willing to be fact-checked on this one, however.
And if I may be so bold as to segue over to a story about an ever-so-slightly different corner of the conservative donorverse, it turns out the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus has been, for quite some time now, accepting donations from known Nazis. Just to clarify, since I dabble in hyperbole here in this humble poo joke blog, yes, I am talking about literal, actual, card-carrying Nazis. Ok, I don’t know if they have physical cards. Everything’s digital nowadays, you probably just have to give your number at the register. But NAZIS is the point I’m trying to make here.
Anyway, those are two not-at-all related stories about the infrastructure financing Trumpism, from which no conclusions or inferences can be drawn, surely.
But it’s not just Hairplug Himmler’s bigotry and violent rage that’ve infected the entire conservative movement, the fascist tactics have trickled down as well. Look at Congressman Duke-Without-the-Baggage, excuse me, Congressman “Scalise,” who shared a doctored video in an attempt to smear Joe Biden, because nothing says “moral high ground” quite like misleadingly editing the technology-generated voice of a renowned health care activist suffering from ALS.
When it comes to fatal flaws, Fat Q*bert is Every Single Tragic Figure in Greek Drama Plus Shakespeare Passed Out in a Meth Lab, but few of his shortcomings have been as destructive as his pathological need to replace inconvenient truth-tellers with ass-slurping yes men.
He sidelines experts like Dr. Fauci in favor of festering ass pimples like Peter Navarro and the sheep-fucking MyPillow Guy, and that, dear friends, is how the richest, greatest country in human history finds itself brought low by a pandemic we absolutely could, and should have handled.
Now he’s bringing some herd immunity nitwit onto the team? Fucking WHY? It’s not like this shit is a mystery, other countries have figured out things that work. Let’s do those things, not the thing that is understood to kill millions of people. Like, hey, the toilet’s clogged, we should plunge it. “No, we should KILL MILLIONS OF PEOPLE instead.” Wait, what? No. NO. We should definitely at least try plunging it first. Right? RIGHT?
Ah, but then, the latest bit of viral madness to hit the always voracious right-wing misinformation market is the idea that COVID-19 isn’t really that dangerous, cuz the folks dying from it aren’t perfect specimens, fresh off the assembly line, they have underlying medical conditions. Like, sure, we’re looking at a 200,000-corpse mass grave after just a few months, but honestly, every one of them was just about to crumble to dust, so what’s the big deal? This “argument” seems sociopathically unhinged to me, but I’m told things look different when you’re in a death cult.
Anyway, so we’re in this zany place where the incumbent President has decided that inciting violence is good for him politically, and that’s both terrifying and weird, as far too many things are these days.
But we’re actually rather fortunate in our perpetually-underestimated presidential nominee here. For reasons that continue to perplex me, a lot of people seem to believe this is Joe Biden’s first rodeo, and folks, maybe you didn’t notice, but they named the ice cream stand at the rodeo after Joe Biden.
While Twitter-blind pundits spat out their breathless think pieces proclaiming Gameshow Göring had cleverly outflanked his opponent by, let me remind everyone, STOKING TERRORIST VIOLENCE, Joe strolled casually out to the lectern with that “I got this” energy we’re all growing to love and trust, and, just like at the DNC, he gave precisely the speech he needed to give, like he’s been doing for decades, I don’t know why this hasn’t sunk in yet.
“Do I look like a goddamn antifa generalissimo?” asked the incredulous former Veep, with more that a dash of sass. “I’m Joe Frickin’ Biden, America’s scruffy-but-lovable granddad, now come on in, take your shoes off, let’s get you some hard candy and health care.”
“Now, near as I can figure it, Dotard, your whole dumbass reelection strategy is to blame me for all the shit you fucked up. It’s Joe Biden’s fault your shitty loser cult is so violent? Do you need another cognitive test, old man? And before you even ask, I’m not the guy who shit in your diaper, either.”
Having been so thoroughly outmaneuvered, yet again, by the Biden Campaign, Team Shitweasel’s response, bafflingly, has been to screech JOE DIDN’T DENOUNCE ANTIFA I BET HE LOVES ANTIFA SOMEBODY TELL JILL HE’S GONNA ASK FOR A DIVORCE SO HE CAN MARRY ANTIFA!
And holy heck, we are adrift in Shitty Wonderland now, friends; we’re only gonna float further and further away from reality. Reality is where the coronavirus lives, y’see; Strawberry Shartcake doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance of winning reelection in reality, so he’ll be spending more and more time in...in wherever the fuck he was during that batshit interview with Laura Ingraham.
Watching him sit there, belching up the kind of garbage that typically comes out of background characters’ mouths in 50’s movies set in extremely non-politically correct mental institutions, just pure gibbering horseshit about how Portland, Oregon is a burning portal directly to Hell, overrun by satanic hippies who collect teeth from all the cops they butcher, you just wanted to grab him and force him to identify a drawing of a horsey, right then and there, in front of the world, because you knew there’s no fucking way he could have.
He goes on to rant and drool about the dark forces controlling Joe Biden, and even Ingraham is trying to get him to shut his fool mouth when he starts prattling on about a plane filled with sinister Librul Super-Rioters, which turns out to be from some squirrel-poop nutty Facebook conspiracy theory, anyway, vote for me, your crazy uncle from Olathe who doesn’t know how to filter information on the internet.
Still, while I’ve supported Biden for months, now that I know he’s just a figurehead for a shadowy cabal made up of ninjas, floating little fat people, and Snuffleupagus, I’m having second thoughts.
Getting back to the Manchurian Manchild...look, obviously you’re in complete control of the narrative when you’re denying, unprompted, that you suffered a series of mini-strokes. Still, every time he opens his mouth these days, he draws attention to the mysterious extinction-level event that’s clearly targeting his brain cells. Honestly, how many rambling monologues about wily Antifas wielding bags of soup do we need to hear before folks finally invoke the 25th Amendment?
Like, he’s tickled by this little dumbfuck metaphor he’s hit upon; he keeps comparing cops who shoot unarmed black people to golfers that choke on a putt. I swear to you, this is real, he’s really said this shit, out loud, in front of cameras, more than once. He also keeps on threatening the suburbs with the fearful specter of...Cory Booker, GOSH I WONDER WHAT THAT’S ALL ABOUT?*
And now we learn the Turdmaggot Administration won’t participate in the international effort to develop and distribute a coronavirus vaccine, aka the Single Most Important Thing in the Entire Fucking World, because he still thinks he has a shot at passing the buck for his catastrophically botched pandemic response to China and WHO. So, for the sake of a flimsy bit of bullshit transparent to all but the most devoted cultists, he cut the American people off from one of the best shots at a vaccine.
That’s how little he values our lives, folks. Every MAGA hat reads like “Cattle For Slaughter” to me. Fucking rubes.
Friends, I know I left some shit out tonight, but this is beyond all endurance. I need to spend the rest of the evening rocking back and forth on my kitchen floor, muttering “just soup for my family, kind sir, soup for my family” until I pass out. I don’t know why I need that, but I do. Stay safe out there, chums. Oh. The Action Guide. Don't forget the Action Guide!
http://showercapblog.com/shower-caps-fascist-flushing-2020-senate-action-guide/
*It’s racism. I wasn’t really wondering. I apologize for my dishonesty.
RNC Week in Hell: Who Knew American Carnage Could Be So Boring? (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Life has been grating and unpleasant for quite some time now, so whoever decided we needed a solid week of the drooliest maniacs in the world, reciting their Mad-Max-by-way-of-Tucker-Carlson’s-White-Power-Hour fanfic, mid-meth overdose, in prime time...that was a bad idea, and you should feel bad.
(Find this post, in living color, with news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/rnc-week-in-hell-who-knew-american-carnage-could-be-so-boring/)
Yes, the Raving Nutcase Congregation was extra frothy this year, filling the vomitoriums with spittle and lies. The biggest falsehood, of course, was that the pandemic is a just state of mind, maaaaaaan, and there’s nothing wrong with the economy, pay no attention to those millions of unemployed folks, or that looming foreclosure crisis, No, trust us, everything that glitters is gold, and LOOK AT ALL THIS FUCKING GLITTER!
Larry “So consistently wrong about everything he prefers Dylan’s born-again period” Kudlow led the charge, referring to the decidedly-still-killing-fucktons-of-us pandemic in the past tense. Y’know, waiting ‘till November to learn precisely how many Americans can be fooled all of the time is, I admit, sorta interesting, but it’s also pretty motherfucking stressful.
One really fun game to play during the Rabid Nitwit Carnival this year was Count the Hatch Act Violations, though it spiraled out of control pretty much immediately, winding up in sort of a Guess How Many Jellybeans Fit Inside This Humvee place.
Now, here’s where George W. Bush might ask, “Is our political reporters learning?” and the answer would be, “no, George, they is not.” Surely there’s nothing America needs less right now than a beltway-blind pundit class casually pondering whether it matters much that a norm-crushing would-be dictator feels perfectly comfortable pissing on the laws governing our elections, with the whole world watching, because his docilely corrupt political party is going through a rebellious, fascism-curious phase as it faces permanent minority status.
Ten days before the election, we’re gonna get a push notification from CNN breathlessly announcing that Joe Biden used a private e-mail address to wish his second cousin happy birthday, and James Comey will decide he can no longer conceal the secret that one time Vice President Biden ate the last iced maple long john and blamed it on Tim Geitner, and we’ll suddenly notice we’re trapped in Groundhog Day But it Lasts Four Years and the calendar says 2016.
There was also a whole a bunch of “you’ve heard Donald Trump is a white supremacist monster well if that’s the case how come he has THESE THREE BLACK FRIENDS?” kind of stuff, which naturally meant that he skeezily conscripted an immigrant nationalization ceremony into his self-aggrandizing reality show without the participants’ knowledge or consent, which, yeah, that’s pretty much the single most white supremacist way to try to prove you’re not a white supremacist.*
What else? Each of Hairplug Himmler’s devolved-looking spawn shuffled out to give identical “I cannot tell you a single story about my hideous dad that would evoke any emotion even resembling love” speeches. Rudy Giuliani just punched himself in the balls for twenty minutes, screeching “STOP PUNCHING ME IN THE BALLS, JOE BIDEN,” while the Children of the Candy Corn** nodded somberly, vowing to avenge the senseless damage inflicted upon that incest-stained groin by...Joe Biden? Somehow? Chronology is not this particular subculture’s strong suit.
Following yet another tragic police shooting of an unarmed Black man, unrest flared up again, and Republicans, because they are psychopaths, gleefully pounced when shit went off the rails and turned violent, because they believe they can get the electorate to forget about the pandemic that’s still killing 1,000 of us every single day, after six fucking months, but then it turned out the bloodshed came at the hands of the most perfect imaginable product of Tangerine Idi Amin’s Easy-Bake Stochastic Terror Oven, and the wingnut feeding frenzy was called off, alas.
Yes, another shitty white boy terrorist, a fucking seventeen-year-old man-child, radicalized online, decided it was finally time to give in to his deranged cowboy fantasies, and he went out a-huntin' for human beings. Oh, the official story is something about protecting property, or preserving our western cultural heritage wink wink or restoring ethics to gaming journalism, but the truth here is the warped little shit went looking for trouble, positively horny to find an excuse to end some lives, and it’s well past time to stop fucking around and be honest about this Trumpist/gun nut/white nationalist movement and its murderous intentions.
While most of the headlines this week have been devoted to the Republican death cult’s high priests, let’s check in on those laboratories of kakistocracy, the states! Over in Missouri, the Republijag-controlled House advanced a bill legalizing the practice of giving guns to children without their parents’ permission, and like, how does any collection of human beings decide to do something so head-explodingly fucking stupid? I’ve encountered enough nutjobs to believe someone would go, “It’s too goddamn hard to put firearms in the hands of other people’s kids in this COMMUNIST NANNY STATE, by gum!” but who the fuck responds to that insanity with, “By Jove, I think he’s onto something!”
Meanwhile, up in Alaska, the Republicreep Attorney General, Kevin Clarkson, resigned over a truly stomach-churning series of texts sent to a junior state employee, clearly trying to get into this poor woman’s pants in the cringiest PLEASE HAVE DADDY ISSUES I CAN EXPLOIT way imaginable. Gross gross gross.
A Russian military vehicle rammed a U.S. armored car in Syria, inflicting concussions on several American soldiers, in what Vladimir Putin snickeringly insisted to his Personal Pet President was a traditional Slavic gesture of respect, dating back centuries, honoring the rammed vehicle’s nation’s commander-in-chief for his sexual prowess and enormous Electoral College victory. Vlad then played the pee tape one more time and told Littlefinger he’d better haul ass and get those sanctions lifted if he wants any of that sweet foreign meddling in his re-election campaign.
This seems like a good time to point out that there are a couple of ex-Trump DHS officials out there these days, waving their arms, shouting to anybody who’ll listen about that unique blend of criminality, sociopathy, and brain rot that makes Gameshow Göring such an immense threat to the nation. There’s something extremely potent and frightening about these warnings, about hearing, “My job was protecting the homeland and I’m telling you the greatest threat to the homeland is the motherfucking President.”
And they’re not wrong. The Treasonweasel Administration, for partisan political purposes, pressured the CDC into changing their coronavirus testing guidance. They pulled this shit literally while Dr. Anthony Fauci was under general anesthetic for a surgical procedure. Everyone involved understands this will lengthen the coronavirus crisis and get Americans killed, but fuck them serfs, the point here is to trick juuuuuuust enough voters into thinking shit is under control. And so now you start thinking of all that medicine delayed by their sabotage of the Post Office, and what can you conclude except that they will kill as many of us as they have to to retain power?
Getting back to the Reckless Narcissist Conflagration, the fourth and final night featured the Mother of All Hatch Act Violations, a defiling of the People’s House which I suppose was designed to make Weehands McNodick appear presidential, to which I say, there is not enough lipstick in the world for that particular pig.
In keeping with Operation: Piss on America’s Leg and Tell Us It’s Raining, the event was light on masks and social distancing; hey, keep fuckin’ that chicken, you crazy death cult, you.
Anyway, after hours of whinging victimhood, the main event finally arrived, an interminable teleprompter speech from the Adderall-Addled Assclown himself. Normally, the only reason anyone could possibly have to watch someone read aloud this badly would be to determine if they’re ready to graduate the second grade, but I guess this is how we pick our presidents now, awesome.
In the end, it was mostly just boring. And America noticed. All those carefully-crafted lies Stephen Miller sweated over ‘til the latest coating of spray-on hair streaked down his sunken face were ultimately for naught, because we’ve seen this one before, and it sucks. The ratings were shit, is what I’m saying, especially compared to the exciting new ingenue taking the political world by storm, he’s America’s Decency Sweetheart, he's Handsome Joe Biden, and he absolutely spanked Fat Q*bert at his own game.
You probably saw the headline today where the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs said he sees “no role” for the U.S. military in the electoral process, and you thought, “oh, that’s kinda comforting to hear, and actually addresses a very specific fear I’ve been having, life sure is fun here in 2020!”
If it seems like The Bastards are stepping up their efforts in their ongoing war to grind us down, it’s because they are. But the good folk of this great country are rising to meet the moment. An unprecedented labor strike led by the athlete activists of the NBA, boiling over into other sports as well, grabbed the world’s attention more than any of the RNC’s snarling diatribes. And it’s already yielded results, in case you need a lil’ inspiration in these shit-encrusted times.
And there’s no evidence the Shart Campaign’s panicked attempt to paint Joe Biden as the General Sherman of the Suburbs is landing. I mean, don’t take your eye off these motherfuckers for a second, but there’re a lot of reasons to believe we’re in a darkest-before-the-dawn scenario here.
So if you’re in a fighting mood, this is a great time to check out Shower Cap’s Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide! (http://showercapblog.com/fascist-flushing-2020-guide-house/ ) Adopt a race or two, we’ve got a great team down there on the front lines. As for me, well, whenever you happen to be reading this post, it’s five o’clock somewhere.
*Heh. While I was writing, another almost identical story broke. These pathetic frauds.
**Toldja I’d use that one a bunch.
Shitty Evita and Other RNC Lunatics (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Look, I’m not saying quarantine is getting to me, but lately I’ve taken to writing EAT ME on everything in the fridge, because at some point, something has to make me magically grow right out of Shitty Wonderland, and I’ll wake up safe in my bed, right? RIGHT? C’mon, pull up a toadstool, we’ll go over the news:
(As always, find this post, in living color, with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/shitty-evita-and-other-rnc-lunatics/)
You’ve seen the shiny new Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide, right? It’s got all you need to know about the closest races for the U.S. House and Senate, and if you dig this weird little poo joke blog, I think you’ll find the Guide useful and amusing. Check it out, and pitch in if you can!
http://showercapblog.com/fascist-flushing-2020-guide-house/
But if you can’t, don’t worry about it; times is hard, y’know? The whole dang point of the Democratic Party is helping folks when they’re struggling; we’re not like Arizona’s Participation Trophy Senator, Martha McSally, who literally begged her supporters to starve themselves so they could send her flailing campaign more money. Yes, the very same Martha McSally who opposed expanded unemployment benefits for the filthy takers thinks you should “fast a meal” so she can stay in Washington, with her boot on your neck. Can’t make this shit up.
Well, a little while back, when we first heard Melania was redoing the Rose Garden, we knew it’d turn out shitty, and sure enough, it turned out shitty. I’m mostly just grateful she didn’t drop a couple of gold toilets amongst the bushes and call it a day; remember, it can always get worse with these jerks.
So, Lil’ Donnie Dotard rang the bell in the town square, and when we all came running, he squeaked, “Scandal! Shame! The dastardly Democrats have stripped God from the Pledge of Allegiance,” and we went, “oh, it’s only the turd who cried wolf,” because he was lying again, of course, and so we joined hands and danced in a circle around him, chanting, “You don’t know how to run against Biden!” because in this scenario we’re all little kids, was that unclear?
This is what passes for strategic brilliance in that Adderall-addled brain: an easily-debunked lie that makes him look like, well, like someone who needs a basic cognitive test. Still, in MAGA nation, this will be accepted as gospel truth, and if you don’t believe me, try asking that old high school chum who posts Q memes what he thinks, but only if you’re willing to get an earful about Godless Joe and his heathen antifa hordes.
Of course, here in the real world, the only folks I see taking God out of anything are wearing red ball caps that say Made in China on the tag. Recent polling reveals fifty-fucking-seven percent of Republicans find the coronavirus death toll, well over 180,000 as I type this, “acceptable,” and if you haven’t heard Jeff Foxworthy’s ”You Might be in a Death Cult if....” routine, this is pretty much the whole thing.
Such a horrifyingly passive little word in this context, “acceptable.” Anyway, one of things I like best about Joe Biden is how he doesn’t ask me to die for him. Or even skip a meal!
I guess there are secret recordings of Sharty McFly’s sister talking about what a turd-gargling rat bastard he is, and...I confess, I don’t get why anyone expects this to change anything. There are millions of people saying the same things right this very minute. Donald Trump’s flaws are wildly agreed upon; indeed, none of us have been granted a moment’s respite from them for four years. There are people who care that the President is an amoral psychopath, and there are people who don’t; we’re just waiting see how many of each live in Wisconsin.
The House of Representatives returned from recess to pass, with surprising bipartisan support, a bill designed to rescue the United States Postal Service from an executive branch hellbent on sabotaging it from within in order to undermine the coming election. Boy, that sentence’ll surprise a few kids in the history classes of the future, won’t it? “Wait, wait, I tuned out around the moon landing, who did what to the Post Office, now?”
Or maybe they’ll ask, “what’s a Post Office?” before leaving their offerings at the feet of the Ivanka statue outside the school. You’ve checked to make sure you’re registered to vote, yes?
Anyway, the bill now heads to the decency graveyard Mitch McConnell calls his desk, a reminder that it’s crucial to take back the Senate this fall, and have I mentioned I’ve got an Action Guide for that?
Also, I guess the Postmaster General doesn’t know what it costs to mail a postcard, but he still gets to hang onto the power to sabotage a crucial piece of electoral infrastructure, endangering the health of rural Americans and veterans, and crotch-stomping already pandemic-battered small businesses, collateral damage Louis DeJoy and his wannabe dictator bosses do not give a single fuck about.
Cool country we’ve got here. Very first world. Not at all a shithole.
So, President Crotchvoid called himself a little press conference over the weekend to pimp his latest untested coronavirus miracle cure, (Hydroxychloroquine...now with Splenda!) but fortunately, the grown-ups in his administration got out ahead of him and he wound up sulking away after a couple of softballs from friendly propaganda outlets.
Really looking forward to the night before Election Day, when he’ll proclaim via tweet that he discovered a Covid cure himself by mixing the drinks at the soda fountain at Chuck E. Cheese, also Q is totally real and all Democrats are pedophiles SLAY THEM MY UNHOLY CHILDREN OF THE CANDY CORN!*
New York Attorney General Letitia James sued the Shart Organization; apparently they’ve been lying about the size of the Velveeta Vulgarian’s financial assets, inflating or deflating them willy-nilly, like Eric’s high school girlfriend, to suit their fraudulent schemes. Y’know, once the law is done catching up to these cheap career crooks, I hope they’re not allowed to serve their many sentences concurrently. See, you gotta think ahead, folks.
You’ll no doubt be shocked to learn that George and Kellyanne Conway are shitty parents, though they may have finally been scared straight by their teenage daughter’s sudden, publicly-declared pursuit of legal emancipation. Anyway, this all feels like a Tennessee Williams acid freakout, and I’d like to move on to literally anything else now.
So I guess Jerry Falwell, Jr. likes watching the pool boy fuck his wife, and between this and the recent Ben Shapiro news, one has to wonder if any prominent conservative male has ever actually sired a biological child. When you go to Republican picnics, you meet a lot of kids with mom’s personal trainer’s eyes, y’know?
Celebrity Punch Receiver Richard Spencer thought he’d be a clever little ratfucker and endorse Joe Biden, as though there’s some great, culture-wide uncertainty as to which side the Nazis are on here. Smilin’ Joe wasted little time telling Spencer where he could shove his endorsement, noting of Dickie Boy’s most famous public interaction that there was a very fine person on only one side of that fist.
Anyway, it’s Republican National Convention week, though one wonders what the point of a convention is, when the GOP has finally, formally proclaimed, “Platforms are for Falwells, we’re a cult of personality now!” Shit, that’s the one thing these gaslighting shitweasels are willing to be honest about, and if that doesn’t elicit a mad cackle from your weary ass, I don’t know what will.
I decided to skip the first night of the proceedings, because I don’t hate myself, but luckily, any sense of FOMO I may experience doesn’t extend to watching angry white people screaming. Sorry, Metallica.
But looking at a few video clips today, wooooooooooo...as many others have pointed out, it looks like we found the kink in the cocaine supply chain. And as for Junior’s odious mate, the clearly-never-hinged-in-the-first-place Kimberly Guilfoyle, I mean, if there’s a swingable “I just want to see my high school drama teacher play Medea on meth and I’ll vote for whoever gives me that” demographic out there that none of us know about, she certainly sewed it up.
Oh, and everybody call child services on RNC speaker Abby Johnson, who posted a video to YouTube welcoming all the future racial profiling her adopted biracial son has to look forward to under the white supremacist police state. Someday, that poor child is going to find that video, and even the fucking Conways won’t have any advice for Abby and her deeply warped definitions of love and fairness.
A mob of maskless wingnuts violently stormed Idaho’s special legislative session, demanding immediate coronavirus infection, or something equally stupid, who gives a shit, because being asked to be a fucking adult in the name of public health is tyranny, apparently. Of course, it’s actually the rest of us chumps, with our silly sense of civic duty, who are trapped beneath the tyranny of this tantrum-throwing, covid-spreading minority, right? Oh, how that irony sends twisted little giggles echoing down the hallway of this apartment I STILL CAN’T FUCKING LEAVE.
I can’t leave, but I can have beer delivered, and for tonight at least, that will have to do. I really would be grateful if you’d check out that Action Guide, friends. See you soon, stay safe out there.
http://showercapblog.com/fascist-flushing-2020-guide-house/
* Holy fuck. “Children of the Candy Corn.” How did that take me almost four years?
If Anyone Needs Me, I'll Be Living Vicariously Through the Post Office Agents That Busted Bannon (F)
Say, that DNC sure was a nice change, wasn’t it? Like pressing a cool cloth on America’s fevered forehead. A cloth damp with decency. And yea, alongside this cloth shall we offer the Barf Bag of Restoration, that the nation might purge herself of her Nazi loser infestation. Anyway, I’ve got a whole blog filled with stupid shit like this, so read on IF YOU DARE.
(Get all this Cappy goodness, with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/bannon-vicariously/)
Hey, before we get on with the usual chroniclin’, I am delighted to announce the launch of Shower Cap’s Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide! We did a lot of good with the 2018 version, and we’ve been working hard to get this new one up. Lots of beloved Blue Wave freshmen to defend, plus a killer crop of challengers looking to swell their ranks. And don’t sleep on the crew working to take the Senate back!
God knows it’s more important than ever to pay attention to the fight for Congress, with the likes of Play-Interrupting Hategeyser Laura Loomer winning Republican primaries. Like, abominable ideology notwithstanding, Loomer is only even known for saying so much vile shit she got banned from social media, and then whining about it a whole fuckin’ bunch. That’s it. That’s the whole goddamn resumé. Does she even have a job? Have we already come to the point when shared bigotry is the sole trait Republican primary voters seek in their candidates? Fuck.
And then there’s the GOP’s gobsmackingly dangerous gambit to revive their ailing coaltion with an infusion of Vitamin Q. Watching that frothy mob of death cultists swarm over the rotting corpse of the Republican Party must be difficult for our NeverTrump chums, but I’ve seen enough zombie movies to know we need to set this fucker on fire (figuratively, calm down) before it gets up and starts chasing us again.
And now we’ve got the Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor himself pimping these terrorist loons, because ONCE AGAIN somebody out there said, “well at least it can’t get any worse,” and God heard you. See, because these demented freaks hold him up as some paragon of pure, holy goodness*, and since How You Make Donald Trump Feel About Himself is the only metric the doddering old twit uses to make decisions, we suddenly find ourselves perched on a tightrope over a live volcano. My compliments to the chef, that was a really nice touch on your America-wrecking indoctrination scheme.
Since 2020 insists on dropping gobs of hippo shit rolled in broken glass on us every moment of every day, I have come to believe we must take our pleasures wheresoe’er we might find them. Eating your favorite meal from your favorite restaurant out of a styrofoam container on a park bench. Snagging the last 12-pack of Dr. Pepper at the store. Kanye West failing to qualify for the ballot in swing state after swing state.
It’s the little things, y’know? Things that make you go, “life is still good,” or “hot diggity damn, democracy might just survive the fucking winter.”
And I’ll take all the good news I can get on that front, because Government Cheese Goebbels is doing everything in his terrifyingly substantial power to ratfuck the Constitution to death. And I don’t know if that means physically fucking the Constitution with, like, live rat dildos until the Constitution has been pulverized to dust, or copulating with rats until the Constitution dies metaphorically, presumably for esoteric supernatural reasons, I agree the first one makes more sense, but I don’t want to stand in the reader’s way; you are free to visualize what you like.
ANYWAY.
It really looks like the big series finale will hinge on whether or not our heroes overcome the insidious bureaucratic fuckery of the dastardly Postmaster General, to ensure a free and fair election, so that the American people can peacefully overthrow the Hemorrhoid Emperor who brought blight and plague and unceasing fucking TWEETING down upon their beloved homeland. We don’t get any Avengers to fight this one for us; we’ve gotta be the Avengers, I call Captain America, obviously.
Now, this DeJoy bastard knows his future holds honey bunches of jail if the rule of law returns to America, so fucking of course he won’t reinstall the sorting machines, or reverse the policies that’ve slowed the mail so damn much, no matter how many baby chicks or U.S. veterans die. There are a lot of reasons why I hate Donald Trump, but his insistence on killing so many of us, it...it’s gettin’ to me, y’know?
In fairness, “holy balls we need to cheat as hard as we possibly fucking can” is certainly a clear-eyed assessment of the Marmalade Shartcannon’s electoral prospects. Look, we’re Democrats, I understand we’re going to live in fear of the Magical Political Powers of Populist Dumbfucks for the rest of our lives, but seriously, the Yammering Yam decided, for no reason even approaching sanity, to demand a boycott of an American company that provides thousands of jobs in a win-or-die-in-prison swing state. Honestly, if I was Bill Stepien, I’d spend my time driving from precinct to precinct, smashing voting machines by hand.
...which is probably the backup plan if the Post Office shit doesn’t work out.
Or maybe it’s just to sit, pouting and cross-legged on the Oval Office floor, refusing to leave, and we have to call his mom, and it’s this whole embarrassing THING. Certainly Substitute Sarah Slanders Kayleigh McEnany isn’t ruling out the possibility, carefully reserving her scumfuck boss’ imagined right to unilaterally end the great American experiment.
Look Kayleigh, if we get to see you crooks dragged from the White House, wailing and clawing at the furniture, ultimately tossed into the very square you desecrated with your fascist police action like the wet sacks of trash you are, so much the fucking better.
Hey speaking of trash, if it isn’t our old friend Steve Bannon gettin’ his treasonous grifter ass arrested, and though he briefly escaped custody when his gin-soaked flopsweat caused his handcuffs to slip off, he has been arraigned and released on a $5 million bond, paid entirely in cash, the bills coated in a pus-like film, reeking of the dying biological emissions of some hideous, other-worldly lizard creature.
The arrest came from the very office Bilious Billy Barr recently failed to decapitate, utilizing, I kid you not, the elite operatives of the U.S. Post Office. And like, WE SEE YOU, WILLIAM. We see you sneaking around, corrupting our institutions; you uncorrupt those institutions right this second, Mister! Then go to your room, and by your room I mean prison. Forever.
Now Lou Dobbs is stumbling around, blitzed on hydroxychloroquine, screeching about the Deep State, but I’m sittin’ back, grinning like the cat that got the canary, slow-clapping for the well-timed W for the hard-workin’, suddenly-symbolic USPS.
The GOAT of Losing in Court further cemented his legacy with a pair of judicial nut-punches to the effort to keep his piss hooker budget, excuse me his “tax returns” secret. Can you imagine where we’d be right now if the Individual Wonder had put half the effort into combatting the coronavirus outbreak that he puts into running out the various prosecutorial clocks through procedural dawdling?
It’s wildfire season once again in California, meaning once again President Gas Station Urinal Cake is puffing out his chest and threatening to abandon countless suffering Americans, because they refuse to take his sage advice on (sigh) raking the ground in the forest. I must confess, when his malice collides with his imbecility like this, he achieves truly spectacular things in the field of anti-competence. The ability to approach a problem and not just fail to solve it, but to make it so much fucking worse, it’s...breathtaking.
And then Joe Biden strode confidently out before the cameras for the most important speech of his long life of service, no doubt grinning to himself, since he was about to effortlessly obliterate the opposing campaign’s entire strategy. “Sleepy and senile, am I?” Joe whispered, to no one in particular, before snapping the trap shut, dancing over the atom-high hurdles his opponents had, in their wisdom, strewn in his path.
Handsome Joe has, of course, always been a big-game player, and he rose to meet the moment, because that, dear reader, is how Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. rolls. He showed a weary America a good, strong, kind, capable man, ready to send the fascist roaches scuttling back to their dark corners, ready to restore decency, and move the country forward.
No wonder Hairplug Himmler responded with sad little squeaks about ordering law enforcement to monitor/menace polling places. Try it, old man. Call up your buddy Vlad and smuggle his whole fuckin’ army over in the dead of night. Won’t be enough.
Anyway, we’ve got the traditional white grievance ritual known as the Republican National Convention coming up next week. I can’t tell who’s actually speaking, I assume all the line-ups I’ve seen floating around the internet are spoofs or memes, they can’t possibly be real...oh fuck they’re totally real aren’t they?
Well, that’s all I got tonight, Shower Captives, hope you get a little rest in this weekend. Don’t forget to check out that Action Guide when you get a chance, and spread it around if you find it useful, we’re real proud of it. Stay safe out there!
*WHAT THE LIVING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? DO YOU HAVE FUCKING EYES?
It's the MyPillow Guy's World, We're Just Begging God for Sweet Release From It (Ferret/Shower Cap)
After all these weeks trapped in my apartment with no company save my own, one thing I’m increasingly certain of: that turtle I kept in a shoebox back in third grade must’ve fucking hated me. ‘Course, the turtle didn’t have the unceasing madness of the 24-hour news cycle to keep him company...lucky bastard.
(You want this post, in living color, with nifty nooz links? I got you: http://showercapblog.com/its-the-mypillow-guys-world-were-just-begging-god-for-sweet-release-from-it/)
Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s first Katrina was Hurricane Maria, when he abandoned thousands to suffering and death, because in addition to their lack of clout in the Electoral College, they had the audacity to be non-white. But since we’re all trapped in his new Katrina Wrapped Inside Another Katrina With Extra Katrina on the Side, we barely even noticed the additional mini-Katrina unfolding in Iowa, where thousands remain without power following a derecho storm that hopped on 2020’s Let’s Fuck America’s Shit Right Up bandwagon. Regrettably, your federal government is in more of an “ignoring problems and hoping they go away on their own” place than a “fixing shit” place, Iowa, but please keep sending tax money.
Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo tried to strong-arm the United Nations Security Council into extending sanctions on Iran, but the world simply said, “gonna pass on that one, champ,” because it’s tough playing strongman without, y’know...strength. This was an unprecedented, deeply humiliating repudiation of U.S. leadership on the global stage, and you’d probably wonder why the fuck Team Turdmaggot forced the issue at all, if the last three and a half years hadn’t taught you at every turn that they are cud-brained buffoons who don’t understand anything about anything, hopelessly out of their depth at essentially all times.
Fat Q*Bert’s brother died, in what felt like the universe’s latest desperate attempt to reveal to the American electorate the seeping, moldy, wildebeest turd their President possesses in lieu of a soul.
Joe Biden offered simple, sincere condolences to his rival, as any halfway decent person would, but it came off like trolling, on account of how everybody knows Littlefinger is incapable of feeling human emotions. Indeed, the callous bastard went golfing (why should one death stop his fun when 175,000 haven’t?) before offering such a deranged, self-centered, eyeblink of a eulogy that you’re starting to think the writers are hitting this whole “narcissist” thing a little too hard, aren’t you?
Seems the Manchurian Manchild is desperate for one last face-to-face meeting with Papa Putin before his imminent firing, because he sure as shit doesn’t want anybody listening in on that particular conversation. Can you imagine the advice he’ll be seeking? “But I tried tear gas, everybody got mad at me! What if use napalm?”
Sources say Sharty McFly has further requested that Vlad bring a custom-made luggage set to this meeting, including at least one trunk, postmarked for Moscow, with sufficient ventilation to facilitate the escape of unusually-potent experimental hair tonic fumes, please contact Dr. Ronny Jackson for the precise dimensions; tell him Meadows sent ya if you want the real numbers.
Once upon a time, in a world with different rules, one Hilldawg Rodham Clinton committed the Gaffe of the Century, the notorious “basket of deplorables” comment, which scored an unprecedented 106 Bidens on the Gaffometer. Anyway, Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet once again expressed his unrepentant loathing for millions of Americans, urging his dirtbag followers to leave “Democrat cities” to “rot,” and nobody cares, because the president’s homicidal hatred for most of his constituents isn’t newsworthy anymore, it’s a simple fact of life now.
So, COVID-19 keeps running rampant through the United States, because the incumbent president still believes it’s in his political interest to pretend nothing particularly serious is occurring, and because I was naive as the newborn foal, I thought that was as bad as shit could get.
I forgot about the grifters, you see.
Yes, the world’s most famous con man remains the world’s easiest mark, and now the fucking MyPillow guy is whispering in Doctor Dotard’s ear about the latest bullshit miracle elixir he oh-so-coincidentally just purchased a financial stake in. Look, I know the grownups have been exiled and the Oval Office is just a blanket fort made out of Klan robes these days, but can we please set up just enough gatekeeping to prevent the pandemic profiteers from setting federal policy? Like, we can all laugh along as Anderson Cooper takes this freak down on live television, but the joke’s on us, MPG’s the one with access. Sweaty creep could probably get a city in Europe nuked, if he buttered Donnie up just the way he likes and it wasn’t one of the big ones.
Former DHS Chief of Staff Miles Taylor cut an anti-Trump ad targeting the elusive The President Shouldn’t Be a Psychotic Toddler demographic, sharing super-fun stories like one where Dorito Mussolini tried to cut off wildfire aide to California because they didn’t vote for him. Why yes, I am writing this from month six of quarantine during a pandemic that spiraled out of control because our leadership initially viewed it as a “blue state problem,” why do you ask?
Hey, speaking of which, across the country, we’re doing this weird thing where schools try to re-open in unsafe conditions, leading to coronavirus outbreaks and, inevitably, swift re-closings, a truly demented ritual that’s apparently necessary because our country’s conservatives require periodic human sacrifices to prove that scientists aren’t playing tricks on them. I hate it here.
Folks, the stove is still hot. Nobody turned it off. We don’t know how to turn it off, actually, soooo...like, it’s going to be hot the next time you try to touch it, too, so it would be awesome if we could just skip that step. For once. And maybe join the ranks of the non-stove-fondling nations of the world; they can go to movies and shit and I confess I am growing envious.
Sing a dirge for the Resistance, for President Crotchrot, with a single stroke of his wee pen, made all his political woes disappear! Susan B. Anthony has been pardoned, and thus all the “suburban housewives,” as he refers to them, have swung swooning back into his tiny, inadequate arms, for women are simple creatures, who can surely be distracted from the INESCAPABLE FUCKING PANDEMIC by meaningless, misguided symbolism. I believe “checkmate, libtards!” is the phrase you’re looking for.
Somebody in the Shart House finally realized that photographs of kidnapped mailboxes and headlines about elderly veterans waiting anxiously for their life-saving, Trump-delayed medications would be counterproductive to the re-election effort, and thus PostStooge General Louis DeJoy pledged to cease the democracy-wrecking fuckery he’s been perpetrating. I imagine the avalanche of lawsuits had something to do with DeJoy’s sudden evolution on postal efficiency, but we’ll be hearing from him, under oath, soon enough.
Still, forgive us if we don’t take your word for, well, fucking anything, Louis. We’re gonna need you to put all those mailboxes and sorting machines back, by the way, it’s not really a “dang it ya caught me, sure is a shame all that electoral infrastructure got destroyed” sort of scenario; you’re staying after class to clean up your fucking mess.
Well, the Democratic National Convention launched to great acclaim by our covid-adjusted standards. Bernie Sanders and John Kasich are best friends now, they’re opening an artisanal ferret food shop together and everything, and of course a Michelle Obama speech emits enough goodness and hope to light a million lanterns in these dark times, which was just what we needed.
Across the River Styx, the RNC is taking shape. The big news is that white nationalism’s suburban dynamic duo, Captain Nimby and Privilege Lass, will be speaking, because pointing firearms at Black people is how one ascends to national prominence in the Republican Party these days. Gross.
A new report issued by the Republican-controlled Senate Intelligence Committee confirmed the Shitgeyser Campaign colluded with th’Russians to attack an American election and steal the White House, meaning the Republicans on that committee fully understood the extent of Donald Trump’s treasonous crimes when they voted to acquit him of a separate-but-similar set of treasonous crimes in his impeachment trial. Like, honestly, I’d almost rather they suppressed the fucking report; this feels like waving a bunch of senatorial middle fingers tauntingly in objective reality’s face. For the love of all that’s holy, fire these enabling clowns.
On top of the more sinister, treacherous details, the report also informed America that Weehands McNodick sent Putin this sad, cringey, submissive-as-fuck letter congratulating him on “winning” Time Person of the Year. Can we impeach him for embarrassing us this hard? Shit, even if I could travel anywhere, how would I show my fucking face?
Ok folks, that’s enough for one night. Enjoy yourself some DNC goodness, you deserve a few nights to fantasize about the decency the future holds. And did I mention the ol’ Action Guide is coming back soon? Soooooooon...
Civil War II: The One Over the Post Office? (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Oh wow, things sure are zany these days. Zany zany zany. There’s this zany fascist destroying American democracy from the inside out, which is totally wacky and not at all terrifying. Well, I sure hope I’m not living through the Constitution’s dying days ha ha ha lots of jokes in this very funny political comedy blog tonight hoo ha.
(Get all the laffs, in living color, with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/civil-war-ii-the-one-over-the-post-office/)
On the ratfucking front, Jared Kushner has been illegally coordinating with Kanye West’s spoiler campaign/public meltdown, which I guess is more important than fighting the coronavirus outbreak, right, Jar-Jar? Yes, this ridiculous plot will likely shift only a tiny handful of votes, but that’s how they pulled it off last time: a leaked e-mail here, a Comey letter there, two scoops of plump, juicy Russian interference...no reason to let ‘em get away with anything, says I.
Seems Hairplug Himmler’s Ambassador to the U.K. is a sexist, racist shitbiscuit who uses his office to further the Grand Wizard Grifter’s personal financial interests. Folks, the world would’ve ground to a complete halt if this crap happened under Obama, and Mitch McConnell would be leading a Brooks Brothers Torch-n-Pitchfork Mob to the White House right now. Today we’re all, “Fucking of course they’re all bigots, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to save the motherfucking Post Office from Nazis, don’t bother me with this shit!”
Yeah, this Post Office thing is doubleplusungood, Resisters. That tiny, malignant brain that can’t comprehend trade or NATO or umbrellas has drawn a thick line, in half-chewed crayon, from VOTE BY MAIL MAKE ME LOSE BIGLY straight to ME AM IN CHARGE OF MAIL, GOODY and it’s clear now he’ll do anything he can get away with to hinder, or even remove our right to vote him out of power.
We’ve been hearing for a while now about the changes ordered by the Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor’s new Poststooge General, directives that massively undermine the institution’s efficiency in the name of...increasing efficiency, take a bow, Mr. Orwell. His flunkies have removed vital sorting machines from mail processing centers, without even offering an excuse, because of course there is none; they’re simply destroying the Postal Service’s capacity to carry out its duties, in order to make it harder to safely vote during a pandemic.
Monologuing like a halfwit Bond villain, Gameshow Göring couldn’t help but brag about his scheme, confessing that he is indeed obstructing the USPS funding needed to administer a fair election, and that he intends to keep on doing so. Take another bow, Mr. Orwell. You may want to just stay out here ‘till the end of the blog, honestly.
In the event you were wondering how quickly a cornered fascist desperate to dodge legal comeuppance would escalate his authoritarian attack on America’s voting infrastructure, the answer is Holy Fuck I Didn’t Think He Could Move That Fast. Because before you could even register your outrage at the unprecedented fuckery already perpetrated, the Treasonweasel Administration started literally stealing our motherfucking mailboxes.
It turns out that whole disappearing-folks-off-the-goddamn-streets thing was a test run for an operation targeting not people, but mailboxes. Yes, those big blue collection bins are being removed, in broad daylight, from Oregon to Montana to New York. By your government. To keep you from voting.
The Post Office is literally crying for help, warning us that it may already be too late to fight the sabotage. No jokes here, friends, this is really bad shit. We’re in danger. It’s happening here. Can’t say I’m a fan. Anyway, fight it with every breath in your body.
Also...he wasn’t doing shit about the coronavirus before, but now that he understands that the more out of control it gets, the easier it’ll be to steal our right to vote, holy fuck we’re in trouble. It was one thing when he just didn’t care how many people died, y’know? Meet the new Legion of Doom: Donald Trump, COVID-19, and Kanye West.
(This space intentionally left blank to allow the reader time to scream JESUS TITTYFUCKING CHRIST HOW DID IT COME TO THIS at the top of their lungs, for however long is necessary.)
Shout out to Senator Ron Johnson for providing comic relief on our descent into fascism, cloddishly confessing that yes, he is indeed abusing the power of his post for his Turd Emperor’s political benefit. Fuck, RoJo’s Russian disinformation-laundering is too treasonous for even his Senate Republican colleagues, who never met a Trump crime they wouldn’t enable. You’re like Nazi Dogberry, Ron; you truly put the ‘idiot’ in ‘useful idiot.’ PS, what the FUCK, Wisconsin, you had RUSS FEINGOLD.
Against a grandmaster of political chess like Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot, Smilin’ Joe Biden is hopelessly outmatched. Yes, while the hapless Dem nominee offers plans to contain the coronavirus outbreak and rebuild the economy, it is Littlefinger who shrewdly reads the electoral tea leaves, understanding that while a crippling pandemic and depression-level unemployment may snag a headline or two, 2020 is destined to be a Showerhead Pressure election. And Mike Pants is shrieking about meat. Let me just say that I understand how these assclowns came to the conclusion that they’d need to cheat to win.
And yeah, the coronavirus is still beating the living fuck out of the United States of America, so mercilessly as to cry out for Jim Ross commentary. 1,485 deaths this last Wednesday, the most since May. School reopenings are, tragically, going exactly as everyone knew they would. None of this is a surprise, of course; we continue to behave in a manner that is fully understood to facilitate the virus’ spread, because idiots are in charge. Public officials should be capable of learning, y’know? Public officials should be unwilling to sacrifice their constituents’ lives to an obviously deranged con man’s ego. I guess that’s a lesson we needed to learn the hard way.
You’ll never believe this, but before the denizens of the right wing media jagosphere could teach themselves to pronounce “Kamala,” they launched a coordinated racist birther attack on our shiny new Vice Presidential nominee. I don’t know if this can get any clearer at this point: it’s a white supremacist death cult against the rest of us. I know which side I’m on, and I know they can’t beat us without cheating, but...holy fuck are they cheating.
The Fascist Farthuffer’s Former Fixer, Michael Cohen, certainly knows how to launch a marketing campaign. Like, he’s coming to the Defenestrated Shartworld Accomplice Tell-All genre kinda late, and on top of an already-competitive market, you’ve got the Senate GOP dropping atomic turds on a battered and brutalized economy, so budgets are tight, and basically, if you’ve got piss stories, you wanna lead with ‘em. I mean, I wouldn’t give you any money if you put a gun to my head, ya cheap thug, but I applaud your moxie.
I know you’re numb to the phenomenon of the institutional GOP failing tests of basic human decency, but like, they didn’t have to break out the good china for Frothy QAnon Believer/Holy Fucking Shit Really and Truly About to Be a U.S. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene. An immediate presidential endorsement? A warm welcome from Minority Leader McCarthy? What, in the end, do you useless cowards STAND FOR? Fuck it. Sanity is partisan now, I guess.
An amazing, long-sought moment of clarity in the Briefing Room, when a reporter finally asked Dorito Mussolini, after all the carnage wrought by his insidious dishonesty, after 170,000 deaths with perhaps as many yet to come, does he maybe regret lying to us so fucking much? Is there a shred of recognition anywhere in that Adderall-saturated, garbanzo-sized brain that he’s caused all this needless suffering by stealing a job he was never qualified to take on? If you had it to do all over again, would you maybe spare the world the cancer of your “leadership?”
...and the dead, empty confusion in his eyes, like “what is this ‘regret’ of which you speak? Next question!” Just...like, are there worse people? Surely five or ten, somewhere on Earth, right? We didn’t really make the single most terrible human being out of billions the President...did we?
The Government Accountability Office found that the Goebbels Boys over at DHS, aka Chad Wolf and KKKen Cuccinelli, were appointed to their “acting” posts illegally, meaning the police state crackdown in Portland was ordered by basically a couple of crooks who broke into a distressingly-powerful Cabinet office and just started pushing buttons. I feel like the country deserves a few more safeguards before jackbooted thugs in military gear get dispatched to disappear American citizens into unmarked vehicles...like, I know Biden’s to-do list is already substantial, but FUCK.
Anyway, yeah, I’m spending most of my time these days worrying about the Post Office, which is definitely not how I imagined my life would turn out back in the glory days of theatre classes and Miller Genuine Draft. Well, the beer’s better now, anyway...
Kamala Harris Provides Welcome Relief From an Otherwise Butthole-Heavy News Cycle (Ferret/Shower Cap
You’ve probably noticed that I always start this blog with a little paragraph that goes, “golly, things sure are nutty,” but for real, It’s come to organized looting and surprise tornadoes up by me, so if I’m a little late posting this week, know that I’m probably frog-and-locust-proofing my place, just in case.
(This is the part where I post a link to my website, where you can get this post with links: http://showercapblog.com/kamala-harris-provides-welcome-relief-from-an-otherwise-butthole-heavy-news-cycle/)
Because the Shart of the Deal is worse at deal-making than anything else (impressive when you recall he’s failed at everything from casinos to putting on pants), stimulus talks with congressional Democrats collapsed, and so he tried to plug a few of the thousands of new leaks springing in our already-battered economy with Hubba Bubba and a handful of probably illegal and certainly ineffective executive orders.
And since President Crotchrot is a blundering, gaslighting sack of Adderall and malice, we had to spend a few days sussing out the difference between what he said he did, what he thinks he did, and what he actually did. He claims, and likely believes, he saved the economy with a stroke of his no-doubt-custom-made-so-as-not-to-overtax-his-wee-baby-hands pen. What he actually did was unilaterally slash unemployment benefits for millions of worried, suffering Americans, and assault Social Security by deferring, and promising to completely eliminate, the payroll taxes that fund it. Mr. President, please quit helping so hard.
Anyway, a depressingly large chunk of the news these days is of the Still Batshit After All These Months variety, because pounding nails into solid stone with your forehead is the new American way, apparently. For example: there is still no national testing/tracing program, and therefore there is still zero chance of getting the coronavirus outbreak under control. Everything’s still bottlenecked at that one roadblock. Yes, still. No, it doesn’t make any sense. This is Hell, are you new?
Yes, Republicans are still quite insistent that schools reopen, though they are curiously less interested in creating the conditions that would make reopening safe. “97,000 kids caught COVID-19 in just two weeks? Well, nothing’s risk-free in life!” they offer, sort of a jaunty way to demand parents risk their children’s lives to maintain the flimsy papier-mâché facade of normalcy the GOP frantically hopes will hold up ‘till November, so they can...hold onto power and keep gettin’ kids killed, I guess.
Meanwhile, Brian Kemp’s First Theory of Coronavirus Spread in Schools fell apart almost immediately, though conservative scientists* had initially been optimistic that a policy of suspending students for documenting unsafe conditions would trick covid into looking elsewhere. Anyway, just like at every single preceding point during the motherfucking pandemic, the virus did indeed spread in the environment where experts told us, in advance, from experience, it was likely to spread, just fuckin’ FANCY THAT.
Betsy DeVos would surely be out there herding kids into pens like John Wayne in a cattle drive film, were she not cowering safely in her mansion. You’ll notice our plutocrat overlords only chuckle condescendingly when we ask them to share in the risks they demand of us; ain’t nobody pushing Barron Trump into a cramped classroom packed with adorable little germ factories, as you may’ve noticed.
And naturally, the Marmalade Shartcannon keeps on illegally using his office to campaign. Whensoever the whim strikes him, he summons the White House press corps to test out his latest desperate attack on Smilin’ Joe Biden. I’d be angrier about the lawlessness if this tactic didn’t reliably blow up in his little butthole face every single goddamn time, whether he winds up scampering away in terror when a female reporter fact-checks him, over an Obama accomplishment he’s been taking credit for for years, or earning himself a fresh new round of cognitive testing by rambling about WWII ending in 1918. We’re getting a steady supply of, “Hey, everybody should drink bleach!” clips for our ads, is all I’m saying.
And after botching two separate Republican National Conventions, Weehands McNodick wants to give his nomination speech at Gettysburg? Fuckin’ proceed, bro! It’s not like you’ll look about half an inch tall in Lincoln’s shadow or anything. Be sure to double-check the dimensions on that Stonehenge replica before you send it to the shop, though!
Gettysburg. Lord. Between this and the unseemly begging to be added to Mount Rushmore, it’s like he’s trying to rub his withered, syphilitic genitals on as many national symbols as possible on the way out...the Liberty Bell is under guard, right?
And Tangerine Idi Amin is still furiously clawing the U.S. Postal Service to shreds, because if he has to interfere with the delivery of life-saving medicines to rural areas in order to deprive Americans of their right to peacefully remove him from power over his catastrophic failings, well, I think we’ve established by now that stupid cuck shit like “the senseless, preventable suffering and death of thousands” will not be a factor in any presidential decisions until next January at the earliest.
Bilious Bill Barr got a tattoo on his ass that reads “Accuse the other side of that which you are guilty,” above a drawing of a MAGA hat-wearing mob tossing the Constitution onto a roaring bonfire, which he’s enjoyed showing off in a series of media appearances smearing the Black Lives Matter movement and the left generally with a meaningless hodgepodge of tired buzzwords designed to spark fear in the white and weak-minded. You just know Billy scribbled his bucket list on the back cover of the hardback copy of Mein Kampf he got from his shitsack boss last Xmas, don’tcha?
And you know Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot is watching the news from Belarus with lust and burning envy; this is the shit he had in mind when he ordered his patchwork Gestapo onto the streets of Washington, D.C. and Portland, but all he got was universal backlash and a couple of temporarily-disappeared protesters. But if you’re looking for a preview of the 2022 midterms under Trump...
The very same Republican Party that for weeks stayed passively perched atop their own thumbs as COVID-19 killed tens of thousands suddenly discovered their capacity for outrage when college football conferences started making the inevitable decisions to cancel their seasons. “NO! MAKE UNPAID GLADIATOR KIDS FIGHT IN THE PLAGUE PIT FOR ME!” screeched Gym Jordan and a bunch of other raging, spittle-flecked, white dudes, honestly, I can’t tell any of them apart anymore.
And I don’t know whether to be angry at the deeply warped priorities, or flabbergasted at the apparent inability to extrapolate. Like, how did this catch you off guard? It never occurred to a single rational human that college football could be played under these circumstances. If you wanted your precious television program, you had every opportunity to join the rest of us in all that mask-wearing, social-distancing, and sheltering-in-place we were up to while y’all were busy spreading disease in the name of freedumb. Maybe if you get your shit together and stop being fuckheads, we can have nice things again next year. It’s up to you.
Good news, I found a GOP House candidate who isn’t a drooling QAnon follower, though it must be said Madison Cawthorn, the Republican running in North Carolina’s 11th congressional district, recently went on a fashionable vacation to...excuse me, that should read, “went on a FASHY vacation” to fucking HITLER’S SUMMER HOUSE, posting pics on social media documenting his childlike delight at finding himself walking in the führer’s footsteps. It must please Steve King, as he rides off into his own personal Nazi loser sunset, knowing there’s a fresh generation of white nationalist Republicans waiting to replace him.
Ben Shapiro has been called the greatest conservative mind of his generation, but it seems there are some, um, shall we say “gaps” in his expertise. While throwing a puritanical tantrum over the lyrics to Cardi B’s WAP, Benjy casually let it slip that his doctor wife told him, “Wet pussy? Oh my, that only happens when something is very, very wrong medically,” and the minute I stop laughing about this, you’ll know I have died.
And hey, it’s finally official: California Senator Kamala Harris is the next Vice President of the United States of America! Mike Pants has already requested the VP debate moderators provide him with a pillow to cry into during commercial breaks, in addition to investing in padding to render the knocking of his knees inaudible to the home audience.
Oh man, I haven’t been able to post two such delightful stories back-to-back since I launched this silly ol’ blog! Shit, I better check out and run away before I get a push notification announcing a draft for the coming war with NATO. Stay safe out there, friends!
*There’s no such thing, made ya look.
We Have Always been at War With Thighland; Joe Biden Has Always Been at War With God (Ferret/SC)
I’ve started sleeping with my head in the dryer, in an effort to keep the sensation of following the news going 24/7. Honestly, it didn’t do the trick at first, but then I added some bricks and an opossum from the dumpster out back to the dryer, and I have to say, the effect is stunningly similar.
(Get this post, in living color, with nifty nooz links, here: http://showercapblog.com/we-have-always-been-at-war-with-thighland-joe-biden-has-always-been-at-war-with-god/)
So, I guess we’ve got to talk about Kanye, which I have attempted to avoid. Like, the whole point of this lil’ blog of mine is to write mean shit about the rat bastards who’re fucking up the world; to be frank, all I have here is a hammer, and yes, everything sure does look an awful lot like a nail as a result.
But I’ve got way too many mental health issues in my own origin story to mock a guy who’s clearly in a lot of pain, and whose problems are only being exacerbated by the global spotlight. But it must be said, desperate Shartworld operatives are now conniving to get West on the ballot in juuuuuust enough states to siphon off juuuuust enough votes to plunge the country into four more years of white supremacy, concentration camps, and plague, and those folks? The bottom-feeding bureaucrats trying to force our democracy through loophole after loophole until it’s warped beyond recognition? Those folks get the hammer.
Donald Trump is a man of many fears...empty stadiums...the public revelation of his actual net worth...stairs...but nothing streaks his spray-on tan with more terrorsweat than the grinning visage of Joseph Robinette Biden, Jr. See, from Wee Don’s point of view, our Joe is the relentless movie monster, steadily advancing in the rear view mirror no matter how fast you drive or what you throw at him; a folksy inevitability, lumbering forward, ever forward, taking aim with steely, inhuman focus at the one thing you value: the legal immunity granted by your office! (Thunder, lightning, ominous music)
And he’s literally LAUGHING IN YOUR FACE as you hit him with your campaign’s best remaining shot, and, okay, admittedly, that shot is, “The Vice President is afraid to take a cognitive test! YES, the one our guy bragged about, with the drawings of horsies and hippos! Biden’s too scared to...he’s...c’mon, man, this gig sucks, I’m just trying to not get fired, okay?”
Anyway, Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops is so scurred of the Boogeyjoe that he won’t come out of the residence, so his campaign cleverly doctored a bunch of images to make Biden look like as big a Bunker Bitch as the Dotard himself. Since they can’t lay a finger on Real Joe, they’ll just invent an alternate Joe, the Biden of Earth-2, who does not tend to his toenails in a hygienic manner, and lives in Bernie Sanders’ closet as his personal gimp. Expect these techniques to accelerate as the clock runs out; in six weeks you’ll be explaining to folks back home that sorry, the auxiliary nipples you saw on Joe's forehead in that Trump ad are, alas, fake news.
Another proposal to un-sink the Shartanic is, I kid you not, adding even more bigotry to a stew that’s already 95% David Duke’s spittle. It’s amazing anybody imagines the problem here is “we’re not scaremongering hard enough about transgender athletes,” but hey, money certainly flows freely in the right-wing griftosphere.
In the latest postmodern Frankenstein update, Twitter and Facebook attempted to rein in the monster of their making, taking down one of Hairplug Himmler’s posts for coronavirus disinformation, with Twitter even blocking his campaign’s account until the lie was completely removed.
By the way, the lie that sparked this social media spanking was that children are “almost immune from this disease,” the disease being COVID-19, you may have seen something about it on the news. A rather significant lie, really. Less of a blaming-a-fart-on-the-dog sort of fib, and more along the lines of an Oh, You’re Trying to Trick People Into Endangering Their Kids’ Lives, Why the Fuck Would You Do That kind of thing.
My point is, all the disingenuous tantrum-throwing about ”free speech” here is in service to protecting Gameshow Göring’s first amendment right to tell child-killing lies. Like, why would you even go looking for that hill, let alone die on it?
Republicans on the Senate Judiciary Committee paid the penalty for their erroneous belief that former Acting Attorney General Sally Yates is someone to fuck with. I confess I don’t understand why the GOP imagines their bullshit talking points will stand up in the harsh light of objective reality, but that certainly explains their coronavirus response, doesn’t it?
Life under the Turd Reich was a fuckin’ grind before the goddamn pandemic, but these last few weeks have been like one long doomscrolling thumb death march, and every fleeting bit of good news has brought SUCH SWEET RELIEF, right? It’s been like crawling through a David-Lean-in-IMAX desert, and this fuckin’ NRA story is like reaching the top of that last dune, a split second before you drop dead, and finding an oasis with a water park and a strip club. Oh, New York Attorney General Letitia James is suing to dissolve the National Rifle Association, you say? I mean, I suppose I’d rather see those death merchants destroyed over the oceans of blood on their hands, but if we can get ‘em on corruption, hey, Al Capone still died in prison.
A recent survey conducted by People Magazine discovered that the six sexiest words in the English language are “Deutsche Bank complied with the subpoena,” following news that the world’s most glamorous money launderers have merrily turned Fat Q*bert’s records over to prosecutors in New York. See, unlike congressional Republicans, DB understands Littlefinger deserves no loyalty, for he will give you none in return. Ask Jeff Sessions about that one sometime.
Fuck, between the NRA thing and the Deutsche Bank thing, I say this calls for a celebration, why don’t you swing by with some brews, and we can OH RIGHT that might be fatal, I forgot about the crushing reality of life during a pandemic for a minute. But you can’t, you literally can’t escape it, which is why all these flailing attempts to get people angry at Joe Biden for skipping Lyin’ Eyes when he drives with the Eagles’ Greatest Hits CD on or whatever bullshit they’re trying this week is doomed to failure; it’s a coronavirus election, Dotard, and if you didn’t want a coronavirus election, you should’ve done something about the FUCKING coronavirus when you had the chance.
Ok, Resisters, we need to have a serious talk. Loose lips sink ships, y’know? Everything was going precisely according to the long-term deep state antifa Jade Helm plan; Joe Biden would take the oath of office, and at the end of his inaugural speech he’d start chuckling to himself and say, “I can’t believe you fools fell for that ‘restore the soul of the nation’ shit! I’ve come here to DESTROY GOD!” and then he’d whip out the Infinity Gauntlet and erase Real ‘Murica with one snap of his cognitive-test-fearing fingers.
But NO, somebody leaked the whole scheme to Government Cheese Goebbels, and he blabbed it all over television the other day, so now God’s totally gonna see Joe coming. You guys, at this rate, we’re NEVER gonna take God out, and if that’s the case, what’s the whole Soros-funded white genocide jihad been for, huh?
A forthcoming book informs us the Manchurian Manchild’s military advisors would deliberately withhold military options from him lest his malfunctioning walnut brain plunge the planet into World War Dumbass and while there are certainly valid questions to ask regarding the constitutionality of the Pentagon treating the president like an unusually stupid toddler, THANK GOD the Pentagon is treating the president like an unusually stupid toddler.
Jerry Falwell Jr. is on an “indefinite leave of absence” from Liberty University following some extra-marital naughtiness he chose to share on Instagram, and I think it’s useful to view these extremely common stories not as the hypocrisies of Christian leaders who fail to live up to their own loudly-professed beliefs, but rather as the entirely ethically consistent acts of the high priests of a white supremacist hate cult masquerading as a legitimate religion. Y’see? It all kinda tumbles into place.
Call forth the Keeper of the Scroll of Words the President of the United States Does Not Know How to Pronounce; yes, I know we just called him forth the other day for the Yosemite thing but he knew what he was getting into when he took this job, which we remind him he is lucky to have in this economy. What ho, Keeper! We do hereby call upon thee to inscribe upon thy scroll, in thy fanciest calligraphy, the word “Thailand,” for he did say “Thighland,” no seriously he totally did, there’s video and everything.
I see Putin’s starting to get anxious, since the party’s breaking up and Dad’s due home any minute now, so he’s fucking around in our elections again. Vlad, I hope that case of PBR was worth it, cuz until your troll farms figure out how to make memes that cure COVID-19, this election is pretty much meddle-proof. We don’t care if Hunter Biden killed Jeffrey Epstein with Vince Foster’s femur, we just want to leave our fucking homes.
Talks over the next coronavirus stimulus bill broke down, because Republicans feared the Democrats’ proposal would alleviate too much human suffering. I guess we have to do that thing now where the markets finally realize, “oh right, these idiots really are that maliciously insane” and wipe out a few billion dollars worth of wealth before we do the thing everybody already understands needs to be done. Shitty, self-indulgent, predictable theatre, only instead of applause, the audience dies destitute.
Well, that’s enough to carry us into our “weekend,” I think. If anybody has any spare time to work up a plan to destroy God...I mean, we need a new one now, soooooo...
PS, I guess while I was writing this post, I missed another creepy little press conference/Klan rally where Strawberry Shartcake said he’d do Obamacare by executive order. You see why I drink.
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