TheFerret
TheFerret's Journal100,000 Human Capital Stock Units Have Perished; You Are Permitted a 5-Minute Grief Break (Ferret)
Greetings fellow human capital stock! I trust you enjoyed your holiday weekend, but it is now time to return to your unsafe workplaces, or, if you are too unhealthy to do so, to your nearest Soylent processing plant. I will round up the news with you, but only if you promise it won’t undermine your productivity, aka the only value you possess, you worthless serf.
(Yes indeed, this post can be found, with news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/100000-human-capital-stock-units-have-perished-you-are-permitted-a-5-minute-grief-break/)
Yes, we are all simply cattle to Shart House economic advisor Kevin Hassett, who really put a human face on the Turdmaggot Administration’s controversial Into the Meatgrinder With Ya, Pleb reopening strategy. It’s still adorable, if horrifying, that these clowns really imagine we’re going to die for their bank accounts.
Far be it from me to offer Team Treasonweasel advice, but maybe this particular moment in time, when your lethal incompetence is a massive, inescapable mound of raw, unprocessed dumbassery blocking out the very fucking sun, is not the appropriate point to be musing about conducting the first new nuclear weapons tests since 1992. I feel obligated to remind you twerps that you had real difficulties pulling off the goddamn White House Easter Egg Roll, so maybe leave the nukes alone until the grown-ups take over next January. If Wee Don wants to see ‘splosions so bad, he can fucking well rent Con Air.
Pornhub reports that traffic to videos of people fucking is way down, because America is instead jerkin’ it to the Entirely Deserved, Dignity-Annihilating Downfall of Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III. Jeff finds himself in the tragicomic role of Frankenbigot, helpless as the monster he created (well, endorsed and normalized, anyhow) ends his career and burns his legacy to so much hillbilly ash. Very few people bear as much responsibility for the raging turdnado that’s tearing through America as you do, Beau, and I hope the rest of your life is filled with hemorrhoids and paper cuts.
While an overwhelming majority of Americans support the mask-wearin’, social-distancin’ sacrifices necessary to contain the coronavirus (out of a desire to stay alive, and help others stay alive, which is partisan now, yay us), it’s the bleating nutjobs who snag all the headlines. Kentucky managed to round up the real crème de la outhouse of the Loser Terrorist crowd, who gathered in Frankfort to hang an effigy of Governor Andy Beshear from a tree, because they are terrorists and losers but mostly losers. My inner Chuck Todd* doesn’t want to take sides, but shitty white boys with lynching fantasies are cordially invited to gargle my ballsweat.
Bad news, Resisters...I know we’ve all been counting on framing the 2020 election as a referendum on the Marmalade Shartcannon’s myriad murderous failures, but now that the lead issue driving swing voters is a conspiracy theory about Morning Joe Scarborough murdering an intern a few years ago, I fear a second Turd Term is all but assured. Under normal circumstances, the shattered economy and astronomical unemployment rate would be significant, likely even dominating factors, but alas, I fear we are all bound for Scarborough Fair now, having been outwitted by the finest strategic mind this side of the leftover cheese dip you forgot about in the back of the fridge.
All of this is obviously very traumatizing for the deceased woman’s family, who will now be terrorized for the rest of their lives by rabid conspiracy theorists, like Seth Rich’s parents before them, to say nothing of Sandy Hook families. None of this matters to the Sociopath-in-Chief, of course, who would happily swap the misery of a few peasant strangers for a momentary distraction from his colossal fuckups.
Confident that he’d taken that whole re-election thing off the table with his wily ploy, Dorito Mussolini spent Memorial Day weekend shitposting like a meth-addled 4chan denizen and golfing like Nero Only Dumber and Less Talented. Big shout-out to Dr. Deborah Birx, I’m sure it’s just a dream come true to see your lifetime of expertise repurposed as a shield to allow a septuagenarian toddler to claim a little extra recess time.
And I see President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster is now flinging poo at North Carolina Governor Roy Cooper over the Republican National Convention, still inexplicably scheduled for August, on the “everything will be fine because reasons” theory of pandemic-fighting. Cooper is understandably concerned about opening Disneyworld Only for COVID-19 in his state, but you really couldn’t dig a mass grave large enough for the crowd Hairplug Himmler would happily condemn to death for the sugar rush of just one more Klan rally.
Naturally, numerous Republijag governors are now tripping over one another to host this human sacrifice demolition derby, valuing the fleeting approval of a rapidly-deteriorating narcissist who can neither write nor speak his native tongue over the lives of their own constituents. It’s like a game show where contestants compete for suffering, grief, and granite for tombstones.
Meanwhile, Presumably-Smilin’-But-We-Can’t-Tell-Cuz-He’s-Wearing-a-Mask Joe Biden has been proclaimed a sissy, a cuck, and an all-around girlyman by Strawberry Shartcake and his sad little cult of toxic-and-also-not-even-remotely-masculine masculinity. The source of Joe’s fatal wussiness is of course his insufferably prissy mask-wearing, because everybody knows real men don’t model safe, healthy behavior, they lick the insides of medical waste receptacles behind hospitals overwhelmed with coronavirus cases. I feel like Evolution is about to sit Dirtbag Machismo down for a long hard talk.
I see the Karenest Karen that ever Karened did the Karenest thing ever in the entire history of Karendom, committing attempted murder-by-cop against a black man who simply asked her to obey publicly-posted leash laws. Well Amy Cooper, that shitty, shitty thing you did cost you your job and your dog, but hey, at least you’re famous now.
And of course we passed the gruesome 100,000 COVID-19 deaths milestone this morning, prompting Donnie Deathcult to congratulate himself on all the fabulous presidenting he’s done this year, like a child demanding critical acclaim for the mural he smeared on the living room walls using his own diaper as a palette. He keeps trying to use the Obama/Biden response to H1N1 as a cudgel, somehow failing to understand that the comparison makes him look like a melted-in-the-microwave My Little Pony doll next to a couple of thoroughbreds.
Out of an abundance of concern for Bill at the Abject Horror Desk’s mental health during quarantine, I’m moving him off the Abject Horror Desk and into the newly-created Desperately-Needed Good News Bureau. Over to you, Bill!
Bill at the Desperately-Needed Good News Bureau: Thanks, Cap! This is so much nicer. Bigger office, too! Will I get a raise, you think?
Cap: Sorry, Bill, you don’t even exist. You’re just a device I use from time to time in my blog.
Bill at the Desperately-Needed Good News Bureau: So, no then? That’s okay, because I’ve got some Desperately-Needed Good News™️! Hey, remember back when Florida Republicans tried to work around an insanely popular ballot measure reenfranchising felons by imposing an unconstitutional poll tax? Well, it turns out unconstitutional shit can get struck down by a federal judge, just like my 7th grade civics textbook said! While the poll tax is no longer on the books, I am told it is enjoying its new home, up Ron DeSantis’ cheap authoritarian ass.
An intriguing rift arose in America’s most destructive marriage today, as Twitter slapped one of Fat Q*Bert’s lying anti-vote-by-mail posts with a big ol’ honkin’ fact check. Ruh roh, Shart-Shart, if you don’t have your disinformation platform, you’re just a confused, butthole-mouthed, old nitwit who doesn’t know how to dress himself.
Sigh. Even on a holiday weekend, these creeps can’t leave a poor put-upon chronicler alone. If it wasn’t for the beer, I’d be quite mad by now.
*I don’t really have an inner Chuck Todd, promise. Or at least, I better not. I didn’t order one.
This Week's News Has Been All Coronavirus and Buttholes, & I Am Very Tired (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Well, it was nice out today, so I got to write on the back porch, which is 15 feet from my bedroom, instead of in the living room, which is 10 feet from my bedroom, so it’s been pretty fucking thrilling over here, I may need to take some sort of rest cure to calm my nerves after all this excitement. Anyway, let’s see what exotic delights the news had in store for us this week...
(As usual, this post can be found WITH nifty nooz links, here: http://showercapblog.com/this-weeks-news-has-been-all-coronavirus-and-buttholes-i-am-very-tired/)
Weehands McNodick is a man of many fears. Powerful women. The truth about his (lack of) personal wealth becoming public. Stairs. But nothing, absolutely nothing sends beads of terror sweat running through his sherbet-tinged cake makeup as the thought of the American people voting in a free and fair election this November. Which is why he threw a tiny tyrant tantrum, threatening to withhold coronavirus aid from Michigan and Nevada over their expansion of mail-in voting, because Republicans want to make it difficult, even deadly, for us to exercise our right to fire their corrupt asses. Terrorizing swing state voters during a pandemic is some super-advanced campaign tactic that I’m just too slow and simple to understand, probably.
(The frosting on this particular cupcake was that Michigan had already received the aid in question, so Fat Q*Bert was basically trying to menacingly brandish a Wiffle bat.)
Bad news for the Bill Kristols of the world, with their dreams of restoring the GOP to the more civilized time when the rabid mob knew their place and the party served the whims of wealthy white dudes who gathered in drawing rooms to smoke cigars, drink brandy, and chuckle politely at racist jokes; the Oregon Republican Senate primary has been won by Jo Rae Perkins , a card-carrying Qnatic, not that they carry cards, maybe handkerchiefs soaked in pigeon blood and their own frothy excretions, who the fuck knows what these deeply insane people carry THE POINT IS one of them is a fucking Senate nominee now. Her campaign tried to walk back her pledge of allegiance to the terrorism-linked dipshit cult, but no, Jo Rae wanted it known that she is indeed nuttier than squirrel poop, and will not, if elected, behave like a rational human being. Anyway, my condolences, Bill, and fuck you for your role in all this.
Anyhow, our once and future foes, the charming NeverTrump assholes over at the Lincoln Project, released a new ad, taunting Tangerine Idi Amin for the way campaign manager/fecal remora Brad Parscale has latched onto his ass and engorged himself on the scraps from the no-doubt-overflowing-with-cold-cheeseburgers-and-stale-french-fries table. I dunno, fellas, is there even any more room under that spraytan-lotion-saturated skin?
Lindsey Graham is, of course, an absolutely wretched Senator, having betrayed his every oath and principle, but in his role as the Candycorn Skidmark’s loyal authoritarian lapdog, one could plausibly argue he is a Very Good Boy. Certainly he deserves at least a treat and a lil’ scratch behind the ears for preparing the Senate Judiciary Committee to harass who knows how many totally innocent people in order to help “Obamagate” grow from a silly hashtag into a full-blown silly conspiracy theory. Awwww...who’s destroying American democracy for a cheap gangster? YOU are, Lindsey, YOU are!
Still, there looks to be some competition for that coveted spot at the foot of Donnie Dotard’s bed, as Wealthy Wisconsin Thumb-in-a-Wig Ron Johnson is already abusing the Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs gavel to pass out subpoenas related to that long-ago debunked Burisma nonsense. Maybe these clowns can exhume J. Caleb Boggs, ask him what failed tactics he deployed when Smilin’ Joe Biden beat his ass in his first Senate race back in 1972.
Getting back to Obamagate for a moment, it turns out Mike “The Turkish Delight” Flynn’s was never actually masked in the transcripts in question in the first place, so we know he’s still a shitty little traitor, he’s just not the Hamburgler. Obamagate sure is fake as fuck though.
The always-classy Turdmaggot Administration decided to tell the brave servicepeople of the National Guard, “Hey, thanks so much for risking your lives during the whole ‘pandemic’ thing, as a reward, we’re cutting off your deployments exactly one day before you’d become eligible for retirement benefits, MAGA!” I find it’s kinda fun to imagine the riotous laughter from the rank-and-file armed forces if he tried to pull a military coup to stay in power.
And President Gas Station Urinal Cake pulled the United States out of the Open Skies Treaty, because hey, he’s on the clock, and there’re only a few months left to fuck up America as much as possible. Dumbass imagines he’s gonna negotiate a better deal, apparently having failed to notice that despite dozens of such promises, he hasn’t successfully negotiated shit in 3 1/2 years COUGHCOUGHNORTHKOREA.
Transportation Secretary/Testudine Bride Elaine Chao thought it was unfair that her department was still saddled with an independent inspector general when all the other capos, excuse me, “cabinet secretaries” got loyal stooges. Strawberry Shartcake figured there’s always room for one more during a good purge, and thus yet another investigation into yet another corrupt official disappears into thin air. Serving in the Turdworm Administration may require the sacrifice of all dignity and decency, but you have to admit, the benefits package is excellent.
Well looka here, it appears that just as Kelly Loeffler’s insider trading scandal was frolicking through the nation’s headlines, her wannabe oligarch husband made a big fat donation to a pro-Crotchrash super PAC, what an odd coincidence! Pretty awesome that you can apparently buy your way into the U.S. Senate, use your perch to corruptly enrich yourself further, and then dole out a share of your illicit gains to buy your way out of trouble. That’s a really good system sure to produce good governance, don’tcha think?
Lately we’ve been so focused on the importance of defeating Donald Trump because he is murderously incompetent that we’ve forgotten about the importance of defeating Donald Trump because he’s a white supremacist piece of shit, but the Shartcannon himself provided us a helpful reminder, musing on the superior “bloodlines” of famed anti-Semite Henry Ford, who I believe had something to do with automobiles in addition to all the Nazi sympathizing. This reminds me that Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops firmly believes his own genetics to be superior, in spite of his lifetime of failure, brain so feeble as to be thwarted by umbrellas, and silly little butthole mouth. Your genes are trash, old man. Look at your devolved fucking sons.
I see Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo has been jetting around the world on the taxpayer dime, courting Republijag donors ahead of a planned future run to reinstall treason and mendacity in the White House after four years of Joe Biden steam-cleaning the joint. It’s actually kind of adorable that Mikey imagines people will vote for a snarling, charisma-free lump of petty resentments. You’re Trump without the razzle-dazzle, bro, which makes you nothing but the kind of creepy old dude people ask to stay away from parks where children hang out.
Fun little deep dive in the Failing New York Times about how difficult it is to give the Adderall-Addled Assclown his intelligence briefings on account of how he’s a fucking moron. I particularly enjoyed the part where he tells experienced professionals with access to the most sophisticated intelligence-gathering operation in history to piss off because he heard something different from a retired golfer. In hindsight, it’s kind of a shame he didn’t know any retired golfers who thought letting a virus spread unimpeded for weeks while doing fucking nothing at all was a bad idea.
The Velveeta Vulgarian picked a Twitter fight with Michigan's Governor, Attorney General, and Secretary of State, because he is a cripplingly insecure manchild who is terrified of intelligent, powerful, women, and then proceeded to rapidly lose that fight in humiliating fashion, because he is an idiot who does not brain good.
Yet another study reveals Shart Garfunkel’s favorite snake oil, hydroxychloroquine, to be less of a “cure for coronavirus” than a “thing that will kill you if you take it to treat coronavirus.” Now, the rule of threes very clearly states that, after this one and BleachIsPartOfABalancedDietGate, Littlefinger will offer up one final moronically lethal solution to his devoted cult before the pandemic passes. Like, “swallow broken glass in order to make a little bottle in your tummy where you can trap the virus,” probably.
Well, Team Shart has a brand new turd blossom, as Ratfucker Sellout Karl Rove is now apparently advising the Committee to Re-elect the Taintfungus, because they keep a very powerful butthole-attracting magnet in the office, I assume. Seriously, there are hotdog factories with fewer buttholes than that campaign.
And now Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot, desperate to stop the polling hemorrhaging brought on by his catastrophic covid fuckups, wants to overrule governors and reopen houses of worship right away, public safety be damned. Attempted authoritarian power grab notwithstanding, it is certainly a novel strategy to head down the stretch towards November pursuing policies that will disproportionately kill off large numbers of your own political base. Like, when Jim Jones passed out the Kool-Aid, he didn’t expect the crew to keep doing his yard work afterwards.
I see Substitute Sarah Slanders Kayleigh McEnany gave away her shitsack boss’ bank account and routing numbers on live television this afternoon. Somebody should make a movie and call it “Idiocracy” or something.
Yeah, we’re havin’ a normal one, as the kids say. I guess it’s a three day weekend coming up, assuming time still matters at all, which I personally cannot vouch for. Anyway, coming in 2021 will be the SNYDER CUT of this blog post. It’s going to be much longer, and, y’know, awful.
On Propaganda, Portraits, Poison and...Potatoes? (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Well, things’ve been kinda rough lately, I won’t deny it. So I asked the orderly to loosen my straitjacket a little and maybe throw some hallucinogens in with my regular meds, and now I figure I’m good for at least another six weeks of quarantine, here in the Unitedish States of Asylum. Enough prologue! The news awaits!
(And yeah, if you want this post in living color, with nifty news links, click here: http://showercapblog.com/on-propaganda-portraits-poison-and-potatoes/)
So I think we’re on Friday Night Massacre IV: Massacre in Space! by now, as the Adderall-Addled Assclown decided that the State Department inspector general was getting a little too close to revealing Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo’s many misdeeds, and once again, nice work to whoever wrote the law allowing the crooks to fire the cops, that was some A+ thinking, pal. Anyway, seems our resident theocrat has been engaging in a wide range of criminal activities, from the petty (forcing staff to run personal errands) to the global (billions in illegal arms sales to the journalist-dismembering Saudi regime). In addition, had the IG been given time to properly investigate the Case of Who Keeps Microwaving Fish in the Foggy Bottom Break Room, well, I think we all know how that one would’ve turned out.
The fetid, oozing, pustules that pass for genes in the Trump family have been on full display lately, through the contemptible antics of President Crotchrot’s dirtbag sons. Turdwaffle, Jr. decided it would be fun to accuse Joe “Frontrunner” Biden of being a pedophile, before passing a jolly evening flipping through old photo albums of his scumfuck father partying with Jeffrey Epstein. Meanwhile, Eric mouth-shat some drivel about the coronavirus being a Democratic “hoax” designed to cheat Daddy of his precious Klan rallies, and heck, maybe just this once we should give the kid what he wants for Xmas, if only to compensate for the loveless childhood and malfunctioning brain.
Alaska Republican state rep Ben Carpenter isn’t the sort of fellow who’ll let others crap all over a departed third party who can’t even defend himself, which is why he apparently felt the need to ride gallantly to the rescue of...Adolph Hitler. “People want to say Hitler was a white supremacist. No!” protested Carpenter, as though the shitbag behind the Holocaust might be getting an unfair bad rap. Now, I’m not usually the advice-giving type, but lemme just say this: if you’re ever tempted to stand up for Hitler, you should not do that. Actually, that’s not quite right. If you’re ever tempted to stand up for Hitler, find the nearest public restroom, open all the stalls until you find the nastiest unflushed toilet in the joint, and stick your head in it until you drown. Just my two cents.
Trumpism is all about fooling some of the people all of the time, and thus, various Republijags waddled out onto the Sunday Shoz to enthusiastically regurgitate long-ago debunked propaganda, hoping that there are once again juuuust enough dipshit rubes in the Rust Belt to plunge America into four long years of corruption, failure, and hate. Ron Johnson proclaimed the entire Russia scandal to be the fakest of nooz, and I’m proud to say I am not yet so numb to the past few years’ atrocities that it isn’t still shocking to me, watching a sitting Senator side with a hostile foreign power that attacked the United States.
And Alex Azar no doubt scored some points with his Farthuffin’ Fascist boss, blaming the disproportionately African-American victims of COVID-19 for their own deaths, probably because there’s a cat poster in the room where the Cabinet meets that says, “Never forget: there’s ALWAYS a way to make shit racister, kids!” Peter Navarro claimed Hunter Biden got a billion dollars from the Chinese government, but asked if they could give it to him in dead babies instead of cash. Wilbur Ross says he saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus. These people are clowns.
Bilious Billy Barr may be on the hot seat after announcing he doesn’t see himself giving in to the inevitable wave of LOCK HIM UP chants targeting the 44th and 46th Presidents of the United States, Barack Obama and Smilin’ Joe Biden. The Redactor General went to say that “the criminal justice system will not be used for partisan political ends” on his watch, a statement which our fact checkers rated HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH YOU’RE SHITTING ME HE REALLY SAID THAT? AND DIDN’T GET STRUCK BY LIGHTNING? HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHHHH!!
Speaking of Obama, he gave a lovely, uplifting graduation speech last weekend, a much-needed breath of decency and inspiration for these dark days. Nebraska Senator Ben Sasse delivered a sort of unofficial Republican response, and it was...yikes, awwwwwkward. Sasse, whose desire to be president himself someday has, like most of his Republican colleagues, led to a total abandonment of all pre-existing principles in this Age of Shart, decided to take his inner dotard out for a test drive, with an eye on inheriting Cult45 from its current Turd Emperor somewhere down the line. Watching once-dignified conservative officials clumsily attempt to reinvent themselves as shitty insult comics will be amusing in days to come, anyhow.
My my my, Georgia Governor Brian Kemp sure is a tricksy one, isn’t he? Having already used every voter suppression tactic in the bag to slither into office in the first place, now he’s figured out a skeezy little scam to steal a seat on the state Supreme Court for a couple of years, without having to worry about what those pesky voters want. And hey, in two years, there might not be an electorate in Georgia, since Kemp and co. have also been doctoring coronavirus numbers in their effort to trick their constituents into sacrificing themselves for the economy. Don’t enter into any real estate partnerships with Brian Kemp, is all I’m saying.
Unsatisfied with the death toll (rolling steadily along towards a gruesome 100,000 now) bought with his incomligence*, the Velveeta Vulgarian returned to an old favorite, pimping the ineffective-and-indeed-dangerous malaria drug hydroxychloroquine as a COVID cure-all, claiming he washes one down every day with his morning glass of Lysol. Nancy Pelosi reminded him that, due to his age and general fatfuckitude, he is particularly at risk for the drug’s potentially lethal side effects, and America was all, “that was a sick burn, Nancy, but shhhhhhh let the bastard poison himself!”
And yes, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot is still throwing tantrums at the World Heath Organization, threatening to permanently pull U.S. funding (adorable that he thinks he can do anything “permanently,” isn’t it?), because he wants a target to blame, as political cover for his murderous bungling, more than he wants a vaccine that would save millions of lives. In hindsight, I don’t think that private e-mail server was as big a deal as it was made out to be, y’know?
The Manchurian Manchild is so pathetic, so insecure, so utterly, infinitesimally small, that he has hired Russia hookers to piss on 40 years of tradition, refusing to host a ceremony unveiling his predecessor’s official presidential portrait. In fairness, if I were a pudding-brained, butthole-mouthed, tiny-fisted, turd-gargling lout like Donald J. Trump (The “J” stands for “Jesus, I suck.”), I probably wouldn’t welcome the side-by-side comparison with a much better man either. When the time comes, I assume Diamond Joe will be gracious enough to display Littlefinger’s likeness, which I anticipate will be finger-painted by an imprisoned white supremacist working in the medium of his own smeared feces, inside the White House’s most presidential dumpster.
Well, Comrades, our years of sinister planning have finally paid off, and Operation: Jade Helm 2 - Spud Hawk Down is a GO! Though Hairplug Himmler has finally uncovered our dastardly plot to storm Virginia’s newly-unguarded potato fields, it shall avail him naught, for Agent Ralph Northam has successfully stolen the second amendment and disarmed the once-formidable Tuber Militias BWAH HAH HAH!
The Shart Administration declassified an old Susan Rice memo proving once again that "Obamagate" was just the previous administration behaving rationally, legally, and appropriately, which I guess must seem scandalous to a crooked cabal that spends its days trying to steal anything that’s not nailed down. “My god, they actually tried to serve the PEOPLE rather than themselves,” said Steve Mnuchin in a hushed whisper, as Ben Carson fainted in disbelief.
Ok friends, that’s all I got. I know it isn’t necessary to say this, but don’t swallow anything poisonous, no matter what the most powerful people in the world say. Stay safe, Resisters. (Seriously, don’t drink poison. Bye!)
*That’s “incompetence” plus “negligence.” My blog, my rules.
Shower Cap's Super Duper Pooper Scooper Roundup of Another Week in Hell (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Well, friends, I was worried for a moment that I was experiencing symptoms of somethin’ sorta serious, but then I remembered that my throat was only sore from screaming YOU’RE FUCKING KIDDING ME at the news all day, and my headache was likely the result of pounding my forehead against the wall in reaction to the latest idiocy, so I think I’m safe for now. So come, scream along with me!
(You want this post WITH nifty news links? Click here: http://showercapblog.com/shower-caps-super-duper-pooper-scooper-roundup-of-another-week-in-hell/)
Hey look, President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster, in a criminal act of such extreme lunacy and malice as would have ended most previous presidencies altogether, baselessly accused a political critic, Mornin’ Joe Scarborough, of murder, and not only wasn’t it headline news, you’ll have forgotten about it completely by the end of this post.
With coronavirus outbreaks ravaging prisons around the world, you’ll no doubt be delighted to learn Punchable Paul Manafort has been released to the safety of home confinement, to serve out the remainder of his sentence in the company of his beloved, hideous, ostrich jacket. I guess it was too much to hope that a wealthy white dude would actually be punished for committing multiple felonies, and, y’know...betraying his nation and all.
The Grand Wizard Grifter has been pressuring the CDC to undercount coronavirus deaths, blissfully deluding himself that this clusterfuck isn’t already miles past the point where he can spin the results as evidence of his mega-awesome leadership skillz. Old man, you’re trying to stuff the cat back into the bag, but the bag has since been filled with THE BODIES OF AMERICANS WHO DIED FROM COVID-19 BECAUSE YOU ARE SHIT AT YOUR JOB.
Iowa Nazi Steve King claims the House GOP is about to reverse his banishment from his old committee assignments, so that he can run for re-election as an actual Congressman and not just an unusually tacky ornamental paperweight. Kevin McCarthy denies this, proving the GOP has zero tolerance for such hateful rhetoric ASTERISK unless you occupy a high enough office to turn that rhetoric into white nationalist policy.
And Jared Kushner took a little break from causing the deaths of tens of thousands of Americans with his murderously incompetent/negligent (incomligent?) coronavirus response to casually toy with the idea of personally postponing the 2020 election, that America might remain his ill-maintained plaything indefinitely, will of the peasants be damned. Jar-Jar remains a walking caricature, a spoiled little rich kid, psychotically exalting in his power to pull the wings off of flies. The flies will be voting soon enough, little fellah; better start googling movers.
Speaking of the ever-growing legion of coronaghosts who will be haunting Kushner for the rest of his life and beyond, seems Kid Nepotism actually discouraged his Dotard-in-Law from ramping up testing, as recently as March, because he didn’t want to “spook the markets.” Obviously, the plan to do nothing while the virus spread worked wonders for the economy, as the 30 million newly unemployed will happily tell Jared straight to his weasel face, should he deign to walk among the serfs some sunny afternoon.
Republicans are really trying hard to make Obamagate happen, even though Obamagate isn’t gonna happen. (Unmasking is a big fucking deal in the world of lucha libre, but in the context of U.S. government officials with high-level security clearances? Not so much.) To be fair, if I were responsible for nearly 90,000 unnecessary deaths (and counting) and double-digit unemployment, I’d rather talk about totally made-up shit too. But I’d make it FUN made-up shit, like “Joe Biden wants to feed America’s precious livestock to griffins, the bastard. You gonna vote for a griffin-lover?”
Mike Flynn, you might wanna hold off on sending out those invitations for your They Corrupted the Entire American Justice System So I Could Walk Free party, Judge Emmet Sullivan wants to have a few words with you, words like “perjury” and “contempt.” At the very least, order a big enough sandwich tray to feed the authors of all the “friend of the court” briefs that’re coming, as well as the retired judge Sullivan appointed to probe Bilious Billy Barr’s belligerent bullshit.
Let’s check in with the rest of Th’Best People™️ real quick, shall we? I see Sharty McFly’s nominee to lead the U.S. Agency for Global Media is under investigation for skimming from his non-profit (no wonder Littlefinger likes him so much). And then there’s campaign aide Jenna Ellis, and her freshly-unearthed history of odious homophobia. Yuck. I suppose when you’re a white supremacist hate cult/crime ring/shitty ballcap wholesaler, these really ARE the best people you can come up with.
At the behest of the Koch puppets in the Wisconsin legislature, the Koch puppets on the Wisconsin Supreme Court overturned Governor Tony Evers’ stay-at-home order, and please excuse me for a moment, I have to call my stockbroker to tell her to move everything into Madison-area funeral homes and Sheboygan coffin manufacturers. Many Cheeseheads rushed straight to the bars to celebrate their great victory over Common Fucking Sense, toasting their own future diagnoses and deaths.
The way they’ve been behaving lately, you can’t help but assume the entire platform of of the Wisconsin GOP is a single plank, a literal 2x4, rotted and rank, with “There Are Too Damn Many People Alive in This State” painted on it in human blood.
Famed Insider Trader Richard Burr is surely peevish tonight, having learned the hard way that while you can’t get served in a restaurant anymore you can still get served a warrant...by the FBI! Plus they make you tip your whole dang cellphone! And for dessert, you have to step down from your post as Okay, y’know what? This is a bad gag. It doesn’t really work, but I committed to it, and now we’re all stuck with it. Frankly, we should all just be thankful I didn’t say anything like “would you like a side order of JUSTICE with that, Dick?”
Now, Burr is clearly a profiteering crook who has no business wielding the power of Starbucks shift manager, let alone a U.S. Senator, but as proud residents of a onetime superpower currently circling the drain of banana-republicdom, we can’t help but wonder if he’s facing not justice for his crimes, but retaliation for his work as Senate Intel chair. Ain’t no FBI agents seizing Kelly Loeffler’s phone, is all I’m sayin’.
A little while back, a court threw out an Emoluments Clause lawsuit against the Velveeta Vulgarian, a rare blemish on his record as the Michael Jordan of Losing Court. Ah, but defeat has been snatched from the jaws of victory, as the 4th Circuit Court of Appeals revived the case. Truly he is the GOAT...at losing in court.
For anybody looking for a whistleblower with a little more urgency, and, dare I say SASS than earlier, anonymous models, Dr. Rick Bright is your huckleberry. Rick told Congress some of the most horrifying shit I’ve ever heard, basically that instead of a coherent strategy to fight the coronavirus, we have a series of thumbs stuck up a series of random, often unrelated asses. Bright’s testimony reminded us that the mouth-breathing nitwit crooks running our country have no fucking idea what they’re doing, and don’t particularly care; the whole plan is still, after all this carnage, Wait For It To Go Away On Its Own*.
‘Course, some culture warriors don’t wanna wait for the miracle, they demand their freedumb right freakin’ now. Take for example the New York barber who refused to bow to the tyranny of the common good, and kept his shop illicitly open, a sort of Speakeasy Salon, only they served COVID-19 instead of moonshine. Naturally, the dude contracted coronavirus and spread it to God knows how many others. Let’s hope he’s held legally responsible for any harm he’s caused. And also that his dick falls off. It’s only fair.
And of course Texas Lt. Governor Dan Patrick remains (blood)thirsty to shove you out the door and into coronavirus mosh pits, excuse me, “sports stadiums,” but only after legally waiving your right to hold your corporate overlords accountable for endangering your life, of course. It’s REALLY important to Dan that a bunch of us die. I think that’s weird.
Well well well...seems Mitch McConnell was forced, on Fux Nooz of all outlets, to admit he lied about the Obama administration failing to leave a pandemic playbook for their inept dolt successors. It turns out watching Wrinkly Gamera admit defeat is...addictive. I want more. I want a camera on him as Senate seat after Senate seat flips from red to blue this November, as his treasonous cronies get fired, one by after another. Tillis. McSally. Gardner. Collins. Inject it into my fucking veins.
The Republican-controlled Michigan legislature surrendered to a tiny wad of shitty white boy terrorists, canceling a planned session, out of cowardice and, probably, kinship. Y’know, somebody needs to tell these overarmed toddlers it’s God, not Gretchen Whitmer, who passed out the micropenises.
Smilin’ Joe Biden promised he won’t pardon Tangerine Idi Amin, and will, in fact, periodically visit the skeezy creep in prison, to throw nickels at his little butthole face. As President, Joe will possess the power to skip ahead of the miles-long lines to throw nickels at Donald Trump’s little butthole face in prison. Pro tip: you’re gonna wanna bring your own nickels, cuz they'll totally run out.
Betsy DeVos is using loopholes to shovel million of coronavirus stimulus dollars towards private religious schools as part of her ongoing quest to make America’s youth just as stupid and mean as Betsy DeVos, only with fewer yachts. You can’t take your eye off these maniacs for one fucking minute.
BREAKING: Florida GOP CongressDolt Ted Yoho is really, really, really, really, REALLY fucking dumb.
...but I suppose a third-grade intellect is a boon in party headed by a cud-brained, pants-shitting doofus who spent his day not battling the coronavirus outbreak, but unveiling what he calls...and it’s embarrassing to even type it, the way it’s cringey to say “I’d like the Moons Over My Hammy” out loud at a Denny’s...the “super duper missile.” (A lesser man would’ve settled for a mere super missile, you see.) Regrettably, North Korea is already testing the Super Duper Missile Times Ten, so I fear we’re falling behind the curve.
Hey, remember that time Dorito Mussolini said Joe Scarborough probably murdered somebody? Toldja.
There’s more, of course. Donnie Dotard lied about some protesters, and got blackmailed by hackers, and probably flung poo at some reporter, but I need to run from this fucking week like it’s a burning sardine cannery, into the sweet, loving embrace of the weekend. Stay safe, see y’all soon.
*I am perhaps being unfair. Shart House press secretary Kayleigh McEnany unveiled a new, comprehensive coronavirus plan today, consisting of a Shiny Binder No One Is Allowed to Open. If viruses had knees, surely corona’s would be knocking right now.
Obamagate and Other Shitty Fairy Tales (Ferret/Shower Cap)
To fend off the boredom, I’ve purchased a small container of little green army men. I set ‘em up on a table, and I pretend they’re armed wingnuts, protesting stay-at-home orders. Then I pretend one of them has asymptomatic COVID-19, and I move him through the crowd, snickering to myself. In a week or so, I’ll start burying them, one by one, in the back yard. Yeah, I’m handling quarantine well. Anyhow, the news:
(And yeah, as always, you can find this post in living color, with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/obamagate-and-other-shitty-fairly-tales/)
With the publicly-acknowledged coronavirus death toll blowing past 80,000 and the actual body count almost certainly much higher, the Hairplug That Ate Decency spends his days re-tweeting conspiracy theories from Qnatic accounts, and using his bully pulpit to advertise his shitty golf courses. Stock up on canned goods, cuz we’re gonna be sheltering in place for awhile yet, is all I’m saying.
You’ve probably noticed the Velveeta Vulgarian pimping One America News lately, as an alternative outlet for the discerning MAGAt who finds the racist propaganda blatherings of Tucker Carlson and Laura Ingraham insufficiently batshitty. Following their latest “exposé” linking the pandemic to a massive conspiracy involving George Soros, China, the WHO, The Who, Bill Gates, the Clintons, the Trix Rabbit, Parliament-Funkadelic, and Carmen Sandiego, there can certainly be no complaints that their audience is underserved, lunacy-wise. Lordy. I bet the cafeteria at OAN sells nothing Bigfoot meat seasoned with chemtrail dust served in a little upside-down tinfoil hat.
Hang another ornament on the All the Ways the Shart Administration Fucked Up the Coronavirus Response tree, though it already sags under its burden, for we have learned that HHS actually TURNED DOWN an offer from a private company to manufacture millions of N95 masks, the kind that might have saved the lives of some of the medical professionals who died from COVID-19 due to the lack of sufficient PPE. Just...turned down the offer. “Nope, we’ll take the senseless, preventable deaths, but thanks for callin’!”
Look out, Obamagate is here and it’s going to take the Democratic Party down...just as soon as we figure out what the fuck it is! Taking his instinct for branding over substance to new heights, the Yammerin’ Yam accidentally put the hashtag before the scandal, and couldn’t even bullshit his way through a single answer when a reporter asked him just what the fuck he was blathering on about. Sigh. He doesn’t even TRY when he gaslights us anymore. I’m worried the magic has gone out of our relationship. Still, who needs an actual crime to accuse one’s predecessor of, when you have an army of rubes of bots to gleefully spread whatever turd happens to drop out of your mouth?
Amidst a coronavirus outbreak in the most secure office building on Earth (the roach-and-fascist-infested White House), with infections spreading through the Secret Service and even high-ranking aides, including Bride of Frankenbigot Katie Miller, Team Treasonweasel has finally implemented the very safety protocols, including regular testing and contact tracing, that they insist are mere frivolities for us peasant types, incidentally why aren’t you out there Dying for the Dow* right now?
Man, If this thing doesn’t off at least ONE of these bastards, I’m gonna be seriously let down. Like, Last Season of Game of Thrones let down. I mean, gimmie Larry Kudlow at the very least, who'll miss him?
The Carcinogenic Creamsicle is exempt from the Shart House mask requirement, of course, in light of the rapidly-congealing conventional wisdumb on the right that wearing a mask, aka “taking a simple, potentially life-saving precaution” is somehow “weak.” They even made a group of CEOs remove their masks before meeting with Mike “My Press Secretary Tested Positive” Pence. Cult45 really is sincerely convinced they can fight a culture war with a fucking virus, and we might just need to stay locked up on the sidelines until this shit plays out. Tell the beer vendor not to stray too far, I’m gonna need him.
It’s hard not to laugh at grown adults espousing this playground bully’s idea of toughness; as unimpressive as it seems to human beings, imagine how it looks from the virus’ point of view. Anyway, that all-important projection of strength gets a wee bit undermined when the doddering old twit flees in terror from a lady reporter armed with nothing save entirely reasonable questions.
Yes, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot, undaunted by the stinging memory of EverybodyMainlineLysolGate, resurrected the Daily Propaganda Spew on Monday, I guess because he missed humiliating himself on live television. I think he honestly believes his feeble “mission accomplished” proclamations will fool folks, probably because Got Your Nose worked on Eric as recently as last Thanksgiving. Anyway, CBS’ Weijia Jiang called him out for his casual racism, and then he panicked and called on Kaitlan Collins from CNN and then he panicked even harder and scampered away before the cameras could pick up his visibly-swelling adult diaper. I have never seen a weaker, more pathetic man in all my days.
Redactor General William Barr’s bullshit rationale for dismissing the case against Mike “the Turkish Delight” Flynn has rapidly dissolved into an aerosol-thin cloud of bullshit mist, revealed as disingenuous spin, just like his shitty dirtbag “summary” of the Mueller report. Of course, since Bilgy Bill finds himself in a “history is written by the winners, come and get me, cucks!” sort of headspace these days, it’s probably safe to assume he isn’t exactly shamed by his reputation as the willing enabler of our would-be führer. I for one really really really don’t want Barr writing the history of these dark days; for starters his prose style is dreary and pedestrian, and then of course there’s the fascism.
...still, the Flynn case may not be quite dead just yet...
Mitch McConnell operates essentially the same way Bilious Billy Barr does; he’ll giddily abuse whatever power he’s given, and delight in the time you waste poking holes in the nonsensical explanations he offers in the aftermath. It’s the power that matters; the excuses are just theatre. So when he stops just short of calling Barack Obama “uppity,” or belches up lies about the previous administration leaving Team Shitstain a dog-eared lingerie catalog instead of a pandemic playbook, don’t waste your emotional energy getting mad, that’s just what he wants. Redirect your efforts into sending him home, or at the very least to the minority. Flip him over on his back and watch him flail while we undo his life’s work. Laugh last.
A big part of the Republican “strategy” for tricking the American people into returning to unsafe working conditions so that the DeVos family doesn’t need to worry about opening up one of their yachts to boarders involves hiding the truth from us, like maybe if you plant posies on the mass graves nobody will notice the tombstones. Whether it’s Ron DeSantis covering up Florida’s death toll, or his Arizona counterpart, Doug Ducey, defenestrating the scientists who kept delivering news he didn’t want to hear, or even the federal government burying its own report showing an increase in COVID-19 cases throughout the country, these clowns won’t rest until they’re passing off roadside corpse piles as a sculpture garden.
Fake Doctor Rand Paul threw a hissy fit at Actual Doctor Anthony Fauci during a Senate hearing, bellowing that he doesn’t understand why we should let a few dead children piss all over his stock portfolio, answer me that, Mr. Smartypants! Fauci reminded Paul that people’s lives actually matter, a fact that the Rand and his colleagues would like us all to forget, or at least ignore. The enduring mystery of Rand Paul is how he gets through life without being punched more.
And Jay Sekulow spent the morning begging the Supreme Court to elevate his scumfuck grifter boss permanently above the reach of the law, so I feel less guilty about many of my more questionable uses of time during quarantine, though admittedly reorganizing my underwear drawer by Most Interesting Restaurant I Ever Wore These To was perhaps a bit much.
Well, that seems to be more or less everything, so I suppose I’ll go back to my army men. Oh look, one of them has spread coronavirus to my X-Men action figures, how adorable!
*™️ Trump/Pence 2020
This Week in Hell: A Cacophonous, Discordant, Symphony of Buttholes (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Another week trapped inside with nothing but the news to keep me company is like being locked in a pigs-feet-pickling factory that installed heat lamps for some reason. Boy, that is one clumsy-ass metaphor, but I’m worn out by this shit. Let’s plow through the news and get to our weekends, okay?
(And yeah, you can find this post, with nifty news links, on my humble site: http://showercapblog.com/this-week-in-hell-a-cacophonous-discordant-symphony-of-buttholes/)
Look, from now on, every couple of days, there’s gonna be another story about Kelly Loeffler’s laughably-open corruption, you’re just going to have to get used to that. I’m sure when the inevitable “Georgia Senator proposes bill to sell retired bomb-sniffing dogs to Loeffler Family Puppy Millz, Inc. for ten cents each” story breaks, we won’t even blink.
Texas Governor Greg Abbott isn’t your typical science-denying Republican goon! He fully understands that reopening his state’s economy will lead to a significant increase in coronavirus deaths; he’s simply decided that those deaths are a price he’s willing (to make others) pay. Yes, he’s doing this even as Texas’ COVID-19 numbers continue to grow. It’s like these jerks have gotten so used to lying their way out of every problem, they’ve lost the ability to acknowledge, let alone deal with, objective reality. “Maybe tomorrow never comes” has been a garbage strategy since day one of this shitstorm, but somehow it’s the only arrow in the Republican quiver.
Because he’s so broken he refuses to model good, safe, behavior for even ten fucking minutes, Dr. Donnie Dotard refused to wear a mask during his visit to...a mask-making plant, since nothing about this debacle is allowed to be subtle. Naturally, he couldn’t help but lie after the fact and insist he really DID wear one, but all those fake gnus reporters just didn’t see it, like he snuck away from the press, put on the mask, danced in the corner a little, just for himself, took it off, and came back smugly snickering about his big secret.
Despite pushback from those in his inner circle with a few residual functioning brain cells, President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster barreled forward with his lawsuit to destroy Obamacare, because if there’s one thing millions of Americans want, it’s to lose their health insurance right in the middle of a deadly pandemic. Populism is a machine that eats people and spits out tax cuts for billionaires, it would seem.
The very same political party that’s trying to steal folks’ health care has also announced at $20 million Curb Stomp Voting Rights Wherever We Possibly Can slush fund, as their devolution from an anti-choice, anti-worker, party into an anti-human-rights, anti-life-itself, death cult continues. You...you’re registered to vote this fall, right? Why don’t you go check. Seriously. I’ll be here when you get back.
The Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor installed a loyalist donor as Postmaster General, likely with instructions to order workers to pee on all the Amazon packages to spite Jeff Bezos. One more wrecking ball stooge to keep our eye on, one more American institution we’ll have to fight like hell to save for the future. Oh well, we’ve been battling these fucks for three years, we know how it’s done.
So, the CDC put together a detailed report on how to safely reopen the economy, because saving American lives is sorta the CDC’s job. Naturally, the Die Plebs Die Administration tried to hide that document where it would never be found*, because they’re still hoping to trick us expendable dopes into frolicking through the coronavirus-laced streets and dying for the Dow. Me, I’m taking the money I’m not spending on lattes and baseball games and decorative gourds, and feeding it straight into the campaigns of these murdering clowns’ Democratic replacements.
Treasury Secretary Mnuchbag apparently has nothing better to do in an economy that’s drawing more and more Great Depression comparisons every day than to get into a Twitter spat with one William Bruce Rose, Jr., better known as Axl Rose from Guns N’ Roses, proclaiming his superior patriotism with a Liberian flag emoji, in what sources assure me is, heaven help us all, real life. This has a very Jay-Gatsby-mud-wrestling-Liberace on the deck of the Titanic feel to it, no?
A new regular feature I’m considering is the Stochastic Terrorism Roundup (brought to you by MyPillow, the official pillow of Dumb Fucks Gettin’ Radicalized on the Internet). Let’s see...armed dickbag drove his SUV through a crowd of first responders? Yeah, that’s the act of a healthy mind. Oh, and an Oklahoma woman shot up a McDonald’s because she couldn’t consume her McHorsemeat in the dining room? Well, thank God we’ve preserved her second amendment right to throw murder tantrums.
Colorado Congressthug Ken Buck got caught attempting to pressure a state-level Republican official into illegally doctoring election results. Got caught on tape. It’s him. Case closed. Can’t seem to find a single Republican anywhere willing to muster even a half-assed, “golly, this should be looked into,” though. The party-wide consensus seems to be “of course we’re cheating to win, after fucking shit up this badly for this long, we certainly can’t leave our future in the hands of VOTERS! Those’re the people we’ve been getting killed!”
A Texas salon owner became the latest Kim Davis-y martyr for the cause of Freedumb, when she was briefly jailed for defying state orders and reopening her business, endangering the lives of her employees and customers. Naturally, Neutered Blowhard Ted Cruz had to fly down for a quick haircut/photo-op, because surely when one works their way up through Princeton and Harvard Law, even clerking for the Chief Justice of the whole dang Supreme Court, one dreams of spending one’s life groveling and pandering to the angriest idiots walking the face of the earth, hoping to win the temporary favor of their vile, bloated, Turd Emperor, aka the guy who publicly insulted your wife and father. You couldn’t pay me to be Ted Cruz.
Lead Buttpimple on the Committee to Re-Elect the Crotchfungus Brad Parscale compared his operation to the “Death Star” from the popular science fiction franchise “Star Wars,” which I assume means it’s a plot device that will be revisited over and over again until it becomes stale and meaningless. Anyway Bradkins, yes, the party we’re going to throw when your little scam finally explodes into a billion shitty pieces is absolutely going to be so fucking enormous as to require copious amounts of Ewok moonshine.
America got its hopes waaaaaay up when we learned a valet near Government Cheese Goebbels tested positive for COVID-19, but alas, Littlefinger appears to be uninfected for now. But maybe this is the last tantalizing tease before the writers decide to send ‘em home happy.
But then a Mikey Hairshirt staffer tested positive as well, so this sixth-grade-boy’s-idea-of-macho refusal to wear masks has led to basically all of the highest-ranking officials of the Poosquirt Administration getting exposed, which conveniently means we’re not obligated to mourn any of these unbelievable dumbasses. (The staffer in question seems to be Katie Miller, who recently joined ghost-of-an-Andersonville-prison-doctor Stephen Miller in unholy matrimony, and I’m certainly too dignified to make any comments about karma.) Anyway, there’s an outbreak in the most secure building on Earth now, but by all means let’s fill up the restaurants and stadiums and meat-packing plants.
In an effort to make Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s abuse of pardon power seem like the rule-of-law-shredding equivalent shoplifting a roll of Life Savers, Redactor General William Barr dropped the case against treasonous shitmaggot/former National Security Advisor Mike “the Turkish Delight.” Flynn. Yes, the case where Flynn pleaded guilty. Twice. This crooked cabal is claiming for itself the power to commit large, sinister, Straight Outta Frankenheimer federal crimes, without consequences.
Shit, y’all, this one is fucking BAD, even by current standards, a real contender for the eventual All Time Top Ten Anti-Democratic Outrages of the Turd Reich. But don’t let the bastards grind you down, friends...lord knows they’re trying to. We could certainly use a Jack Ryan or a James Bond or a Captain America to save us from these wannabe autocrats, but all we’ve got is us, and a rapidly-approaching election. It was enough in 2018, and it’ll be enough again this November. Tick tock, you buttsniffing weasels.
Hey, raise your hand if some otherwise-respected denizen of your social media feed shared that goddamn “plandemic” video this week. Yeah, these are dangerous times, with everyone trapped inside, wandering the world wide web for seemingly endless hours, and sadly, the rabbit holes and fever swamps aren’t usually marked with clear signage. Not to go all Smokey the Bear on you, but only YOU can prevent friends and family from descending into conspiracy-theory-spewing madness. Push back on that shit.
Well, the unemployment rate hit a who’s-ready-to-meet-the-21st-century-version-of-John-Steinbeck-esque 14.7%, and suddenly the Velveeta Vulgarian’s “Who better to fix the economy than the drooling nitwit who smashed it to bits with a sledgehammer?” re-election pitch seems like a loser to me, but then, I rarely hang out in Appalachian diners, so what do I know?
Shart Garfunkel told Fux n’ Fiendz he “learned a lot from Richard Nixon,” and America wept to discover that it’s only Tricky Dick that’s managed to penetrate that lump of rotten nougat Trump calls his skull, and not Dr. Fauci, or any of the other qualified professionals trying save America from his delusional bumbling. Economics, epidemiology, basic human decency, all beyond him...but summa cum laude from the Nixon School for the Corrupt and Malicious. Awesome.
In super-comforting news today, the President of the United States, the fellow tasked with steering the ship of state through these tumultuous waters, does not seem to understand how one can not have a disease on one day, and then have it the next. That’s the level of abstract thinking that completely derails him. Holy fuck. Anyway, maybe when this guy confidently proclaims that all our problems will just go away on their own, we should maintain a wee bit of skepticism.
Woooooo...this week kinda got to me, friends. I think I’m gonna tune out for the weekend, wring my brain out, detox for a bit. Stay safe out there, Resisters, I’ll see y’all soon...
*Underneath the President’s Daily Brief, right on Hairplug Himmler’s desk.
Why Are You Even Reading This, Instead of Dying For the Economy? (Ferret/Shower Cap)
When we tell the stories of these batguano-coated days to our grandchildren, the sudden appearance of murder hornets is when they’re gonna roll their eyes and tell us we’re full of shit. Fuck ‘em. They weren’t there. We had to live through all this crap:
(Hey, wouldn’t this post be cool with lots of nifty news links? Find it here: http://showercapblog.com/why-are-you-even-reading-this-instead-of-dying-for-the-economy/)
Many have pointed out that President Crotchvoid seldom expresses sympathy for the tens of thousands of American victims of the COVID-19/Golfin’ Thru February Team-up, but boy howdy he sure was delighted to see his murderous chum Kim Jong-un up and about after a rumored secret demise. If social distancing ends before the Shart’s much-anticipated firing, expect him to invite his lil’ buddy over to pose for a brand-new challenge coin, embracing tightly atop Otto Warmbier’s grave.
Crews are working around the clock, blast-cleaning the Lincoln Memorial in hopes of removing the stench of authoritarian propaganda, experimental hair tonic, and overcooked steak farts that persistently lingers following Tangerine Idi Amin’s sad little Fux Nooz “town hall” staged right at Honest Abe’s disapproving feet. Addressing a fearful nation amidst a crisis with no end in sight, the doddering old jackass whined that Lincoln had it good compared to poor, put-upon, Donald J. Trump (the J stands for Jeez, I Wish Somebody WOULD Treat Him Worse Than Lincoln JUST KIDDING, SECRET SERVICE), because accountability = assassination when you’re a narcissistic talking scrotum tumor.
Speaking of Lincoln, guess who’s under Orange Julius Caesar’s skin (having burrowed through half an inch’s worth of congealed spray-tan lotion to get there, ew) today? A conglomeration of Never-Trump Republicans calling themselves the Lincoln Project, that’s who! Their brutal new ad “Mourning in America,” (GET IT?) prompted a presidential meltdown the likes of which we haven’t seen since...well, since he told us all to chug Lysol a few days ago; times are strange. Anyway, it seems Dr. Dotard understands the Streisand Effect about as well as he does international trade, or the mysterious mechanics of the wily umbrella.
Possibly the single most ‘Murican thing ever occurred in Michigan, when a lady didn’t like it when a security guard at the Family Dollar said her daughter needed to wear a mask, and so she went home to fetch her family, who proceeded to shoot the guard to death. Fuck, that’s awful. Also it’s a perfect, bloody, metaphor for the way the deranged selfishness of a rage-filled minority with demented ideas about “freedom” is getting the rest of us killed.
The Turdmaggot Administration has banned Dr. Anthony Fauci and the other members of the coronavirus task force from testifying before the House, because they really think they can hide 70,000+ corpses under the rug in the guest room. Honestly, you almost can’t blame them for pursuing the Lie Until the Problem Goes Away strategy that’s served them so well these past three years, but this is getting embarrassing. Watching Jar-Jar assure us this whole COVID-19 thing is as good as whipped is like watching two fifth-graders in a trench coat trying to buy tickets for a Tarantino movie. (Incidentally, Kid Nepotism’s crappy hair metal cover band, Jared Kushner and the Inexperienced Volunteers, will be opening at Klan rallies ‘round the country, sooner than is probably safe!)
Operation: Coronavirus? What Coronavirus? continues on other fronts as well, with a giddy new stooge nominated to take over the principal deputy inspector general post at Health and Human Services from Christi A. Grimm, who mistakenly believed her job was to inform the American people of the truth about Sharty McFly’s failures rather than covering them up with scratch-n-sniff stickers. We’re about a week away from Eric n’ Junior breaking into hospitals to scrawl NUH-UH in crayon on all the death certificates.
Meanwhile, leaked documents reveal the Why Won’t Those Expendable Serfs Leave Me Alone to Golf in Peace Administration’s own models project 3,000 coronavirus deaths daily by June, on account of the whole “suicidal reopening of the economy” thing. The good news is, these clowns have found an alternate model that believes all deaths will magically stop by the end of next week, based on the world-renowned Just Making Shit Up school of epidemiology.
Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo says he has just oodles and oodles of proof that the coronavirus was concocted in a Chinese laboratory as part of a failed attempt to duplicate McDonald’s secret Big Mac sauce, only you can’t see the proof because he left it at his girlfriend’s house, you wouldn’t know her, she goes to another school and her parents are real strict so she isn’t allowed out much. Naturally, every other intelligence agency in the world disputes this, but hey, if we’ve got to destabilize the global order to keep the same 25% of the American electorate perpetually inflamed with racist hatred, so be it.
Meanwhile the Shart Administration keeps skipping international meetings to coordinate the global response to the pandemic, because it’s America’s turn to bring snacks, and Donnie Two-Scoops remains a cheapskate at heart. Also because he’d rather maintain his asinine Pin the Blame on the World Health Organization posturing than actually find a vaccine or a cure for this little bastard. Fuck, y’all, just once, ONCE during this shitshow, I would like the President to do something in the interest of the United States and her citizenry. Leave us a little mint on the pillow, SOMETHING.
Well, the GOP’s 2020 campaign strategy is coming into focus, and I confess, I’m curious to see how DIE FOR OUR DONORS looks on a shitty red ballcap. See, Republicans are tired of all you filthy takers, thinking your lives “have value” or “mean something.” You disposable peons are failing in your duties as profit centers for the über-wealthy! You’re not out there working for barely-livable wages, you’re not buying shit, and now you’re saying you deserve bailouts more than our precious corporations? Hell to tha no, peasants! Like they say in The Shawshank Redemption, “Get busy dying!”
Yes, failing to understand that the sole reason they haven’t been dragged into the street by angry mobs is that our side is too smart to gather in crowds right now, the Republican Party has decided to lean into their Turd Emperor’s catastrophic failures, embracing a controversial I Mean Yeah There Are Things We Could Do To Save Lives, But They’re Hard And We Don’t Wanna strategy to “fighting” the coronavirus. Chris Christie, for example, demands Americans accept massive numbers of non-Chris Christie deaths. And Hairplug Himmler himself, a man who is afraid of stairs, tells us we need to be “warriors,” willing to lay down our lives that he may be reelected, and enjoy the sweet, sweet, legal immunity of his office for four more years.
...it ain’t exactly the St. Crispin’s Day speech, y’know? No, like the overwhelming majority of Americans, I do believe I shall remain snug in my thoroughly-disinfected apartment for the time being, thank you very much.
For his Senate confirmation hearing as DNI, Rabid Froth Fountain John Ratcliffe cosplayed a normal human being and promised he’d be a very good boy and not at all a willing accomplice in Dorito Mussolini’s ongoing quest to decimate American democracy for personal profit. (I was particularly impressed that John-John got through the whole session without flinging a single fistful of his own poo at the wall; as his previous performances on the other side of congressional hearings demonstrate, such restraint is difficult for him.) You creeps can’t fool us with this shit; we remember William Barr. One day he’s all, “the rule of law is super rad and I am all for it!” but once he’s in office, it’s more, “the Constitution clearly states that we’re allowed to imprison migrant children in your basement if you voted for Hillary.”
Anyway, fantastic news broke while I was drafting this piece: the coronavirus is winding down! Man, I can’t wait to go to restaurants and movie theatres and clown orgies and coffee sh-hang on, I think I may’ve read that wrong. Yes. I see my mistake. It’s the coronavirus TASK FORCE that’s winding down. The one operating out of the White House. Like, the official government response team. To the pandemic. Um.
Full disclosure, I have no government experience, I lost the only election I ever stood for*, but this seems kinda like throwing the parachutes out the window two minutes after the plane runs out of fuel, like getting your foot caught in a bear trap and gnawing off your hands, like some third thing I’m too drunk to come up with right now. Basically it’s really fucking stupid, is my point.
Fuck. And people wonder why I drink. I mean, people don’t actually wonder why I drink, I was just trying to transition into the last paragraph. And hey look, it worked, here we are. Stay safe out there, Resisters, can’t have ya gettin’ sick, we need every vote come November!
*Vice President of the high school drama club. It was close, but I refused to pander and become a puppet of Big Improv.
Well, We've Arrived at the Point in the Pandemic When Alex Jones Starts Eating Ass. (Ferret/SC)
TGIF, right? Assuming it really is Friday, I certainly can’t tell anymore. TGI...Sometime, I suppose. I am reasonably certain time still exists, if only because I periodically see commercials for television shows that haven’t happened yet. Well, let’s round up (what I assume is) this week’s news, ‘kay?
(As always, find this post, WITH nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/weve-arrived-at-the-point-in-the-pandemic-when-alex-jones-starts-eating-ass-ahead-of-the-models-too/)
Honestly, I’m surprised you’re even reading this; I assumed everybody was still at the Turdwaffle Administration’s Mission Accomplished COVID-19 is Our Bitch Now Please Pay No Attention to the Mounting Death Toll party. Yes, desperate for better headlines after the whole “What you should drink is BLEACH” thing, the Clowncar Full of Rectums currently squatting in our executive branch is trying a new communications strategy, based on demanding compliments for the successes that exist only within their own minds, led by the Velveeta Vulgarian himself, praising his own genius atop an ever-growing mound of corpses, chewing on an Adderall-crusted ribeye, overcooked to the point where its taste is indistinguishable from that of the tongue of a well-worn sneaker. I bet it totally works, kids.
Boy howdy, the Wisconsin GOP hates voters like Cap’n Crunch hates Soggies. It wasn’t enough to attempt to steal a state Supreme Court seat by forcing an election during a deadly pandemic, no, now that their murderous little scheme has backfired, the defeated Rethuglican Justice, Daniel Kelly, has decided to unrecuse himself from a shamelessly partisan voter purge case, so he can spend his lame duck days stealing voting rights from a couple hundred thousand of his fellow citizens. Hey, whoever set up this system where a turd like Kelly is allowed to literally take revenge on an electorate that rejected him, nice work!
Unable to to fathom how his polling numbers have plummeted amidst the mass graves and food lines, Shart Garfunkel threw a sad, sorry, tantrum at his weaselly shitbag campaign manager, Brad Parscale, proving once and for all that there is no loyalty among crotchfungi. Littlefinger even threatened to sue Parscale, for making him lie and golf his way through February while the coronavirus tap-danced from sea to shining sea, I guess.
“I’m not fucking losing to Joe Biden,” Donnie Dotard is said to have whined, adult diaper leaking down the legs of his ridiculous, ill-fitting, balloon pants. Shithead, you’re not only fucking losing to Joe Biden, you’re going to fucking die in prison, and Americans are going to fucking build a stadium-style piss trough on top of your fucking grave.
To Mitch McConnell, the entire Turd Reich has operated essentially like a wingnut Play-Doh machine; he feeds it atrocity and treason and failure, and it churns out lifetime appointments for scumbag right-wing judges. To that end, he’s calling the Senate back into session. Will the upper chamber be considering legislation to deliver us from the crisis that’s crippled the nation? Nope, this is all about gettin’ that judicial jagoff assembly line running again, ensuring Yertle’s regressive worldview will plague America for decades to come. Hey Founding Fathers, nice job on that whole “Senate” thing, I am totally loving the tyranny of the white nationalist minority!
A really fun thing that’s happening right now is that the Marmalade Shartcannon keeps trying to extort individual states (mostly the blue ones, isn’t that a zany coincidence?) if they want any federal help with this little ol’ coronavirus kerfuffle, which you may have heard about here and there. Yeah, it’s awesome that the President of the United States treats the Treasury like a wad of bills he gets to keep in his front pocket, to be doled out as he sees fit. Also awesome that, having received the Senate GOP’s stamp of approval for his Ukraine scheme, he feels totally comfortable pursuing similar tactics with his OWN FUCKING CONSTITUENTS.
Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s top domestic policy advisor, some skeevy-looking twit named Joe Grogan, has been forced out, apparently because somebody finally woke up and noticed, “say, we’re awful at pretty much everything, but holy fuck we are absolute shit at domestic policy! A despised tax cut benefiting the wealthy, repeated attempts to steal health care from millions, and now we blew up the entire fucking economy? Golly, maybe it’s time for a change.” Ya think?
Florida seems to have stumbled onto a game-changing trick in the battle against COVID-19; they’re keeping their death tally low by preventing the state’s medical examiners from releasing their data, how clever! Maybe they can sneak the extra bodies up to the border and dump ‘em in Georgia when nobody’s looking! Reached for comment, Governor Ron DeSantis would only say, “la la la la I can’t hear you,” with one index finger lodged snugly within each of his ears.
33 search warrants tied to Roger Stone’s arrest and eventual conviction were unsealed, and holy fuckballs, Rog, I don’t even own 33 shirts! How much crime does one creepy old dude have to commit to merit THIRTY-THREE separate warrants? Aside from all the treason n’ stuff, it seems Stone operated 200 fake Facebook accounts, which he used to talk about how awesome Roger Stone is, demonstrating the pitiful fragility so common in Fat Q*Bert’s closest associates. If feel like I wouldn’t be nearly as mad these days if the criminal cabal that’s hijacked my beloved country weren’t so cringingly pathetic.
Speaking of Strawberry Shartcake’s inner circle of bumbling crooks, newly-released documents which in no way exonerate Mike Flynn are being wildly spun as completely exonerating Mike Flynn. What, you didn’t expect these goons to suddenly turn honest this close to the finish line, didja?
Vice President Michael Pants now threatens retaliation against the reporter who blew the lid off NotWearingAMaskToTheMayoClinicGate, likely because he imagines a juvenile-yet-fascist assault on the free press will earn him a few stale french fries from his Turd Emperor’s dinner table. Maybe even a half-eaten Egg McMuffin, if he’s lucky. That Mike fancies himself a religious man remains baffling and hilarious; I wonder if, during his childhood, maybe somebody slipped the book jacket off a Bible and onto a copy of a Nathan Bedford Forrest biography, and gave it to him, and he just never figured out the difference.
Heavily-armed shitty white boy terrorists briefly occupied the Capitol in Michigan, demanding reparations for all the money they’d wasted over the years on so-called “miracle penis enlargement” cures. Naturally Hairplug Himmler sided with the terrorists (who are distinguishable from “protesters” by their tactical gear and FUCKING FIREARMS), even echoing the thug-praising language from his disastrous post-Charlottesville speech, because the self-awareness gene has skipped a few generation in the Trump family.
(Incidentally, mere hours after the protests, the Governor extended the state’s stay-at-home orders, because A) she actually cares about saving her constituents’ lives, and B) it’ll take more than a gaggle of spittle-drenched LARPers to intimidate Gretchen Fucking Whitmer.)
Individual states are still smuggling in medical equipment and hiding it from the feds so that Jared Kushner can’t confiscate their shit to then hand over to private companies to sell to the highest bidder, and I’m starting to think maybe we’re not operating at maximum efficiency here. We reached out to deceased railway baron Cornelius Vanderbilt to ask if this was any way to run a railroad; he said “Fuck, no.”
Like many of you, I’ve been suffering from decency envy these last three years, looking longingly at our neighbors to the north, but man, Canada’s really rubbing our noses in it now, announcing a ban on military-style assault weapons. Look, we get it! You’re a functioning democracy that hasn’t collapsed into a kakistocracy serving only a rage-filled dipshit white supremacist minority, LA-DEE-DA! (Y’all don’t happen to have a sofa a fake superhero could crash on for a few months, by the way?)
As though we don’t have enough to worry about already, now Alex Jones is stumbling around, threatening to eat strangers’ asses. PUBLIC SAFETY NOTICE: If you discover Alex Jones eating your ass, you should freeze immediately; Jones’ vision is based on motion. Wait for Jones to leave the room, then contact animal control. DO NOT ENGAGE ALEX JONES YOURSELF, HE’S IN AN ASS-EATIN’ MOOD!
Kayleigh McEnany made her debut as Shart House press secretary, promising the assembled reporters, “I will never lie to you,” before immediately lying to them about a whole bunch of shit. Structurally speaking, I should’ve put this paragraph above the last one. This is kind of a let down after the whole ass-eating thing, isn’t it? Whoops.
Ok, Resisters, enjoy your weekend, if indeed this be the weekend. Don’t forget, until Alex Jones is apprehended, wear both a mask and a buttguard while in public. Safety first.
Dissecting the Conservative Brain During the Age of Coronavirus (Ferret/Shower Cap)
So, how’re you holding up under quarantine? Is your family driving you mad yet? Are you beginning to entertain Saw film fantasies about your spouse/parent/child/roommate? Feel free to discuss your grotesque, labyrinthine, plots in the comments; don’t worry, superhero blogger/client confidentiality rules apply. In the meantime, the real horror is, as always, the news.
(Find this post, in living colors, with nifty news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/dissecting-the-conservative-brain-during-the-age-of-coronavirus/)
Looking through my outline for tonight’s piece, I noticed that the headlines from the past few days have laid bare many of the deficiencies of the modern Republican mindset. Therefore, it’s THEME NIGHT here at Shower Cap’s blog, as we will pick through the conservative brain, looking for ticks and explanations, while we wait for the scientists to distill their anti-COVID serum from Diet Mountain Dew and Tom Hanks’ blood.
We’ll start with the low-hanging fruit. When last we met, Doctor Dotard had just prescribed a sunshine and bleach cocktail for the corona that ails ya, and sure enough, MAGA nation treated America’s poison control centers and emergency rooms to a surge in “is it ok if I swallow Clorox?” calls and even “whoops I swallowed Clorox without asking first” visits. So the first observable trait of the conservative mind is that it just doesn’t work very well.
The Daily Propaganda Spew itself seems to be a casualty of InjectLysolDirectlyIntoYourEyeballgate, as Weehands McNodick’s handlers have finally convinced him to back off before he accidentally tells his followers they can treat COVID-19 by pounding their foreheads with the claw end of a hammer. I’m sure he’ll still waddle out to bellow and whine from time to time, but for now it appears America’s longest, shittiest, and most dangerous clown show is more or less cancelled.
Many of the more regrettable powers wielded by Hairplug Himmler are those delegated to him as commander-in-chief of the United States Armed Forces. Deprived of the Klan rallies he so desperately needs to keep his fragile ego inflated, he’s un-canceling West Point’s graduation ceremonies, and ordering 1000 cadets back to serve as his captive audience in obviously unsafe conditions while he rants about his media coverage and Hillary Clinton getting debate questions in advance. Seems like a piss-poor reason to risk lives to me; anyone who dies because a deranged game show host felt like using them as a self-aggrandizing prop for an hour or so is gonna be the laughingstock of Valhalla. At any rate, here we see another fundamental trait of the Trumpian brain: homicidally sociopathic selfishness.
Team Shitmaggot petulantly attempted to order CNN reporter Kaitlan Collins to give up her front row seat in the Shart House briefing room and switch with a reporter in the back (both refused, yet another tally mark in Littlefinger’s miles-long L column), a near-perfect manifestation of the mashup of authoritarianism and pettiness at the heart of this demented worldview. It was like if Mussolini and a middle manager at the Comcast call center had a kid.
Meanwhile Arkansas Senator Tom Cotton helpfully demonstrated the long-term effects of allowing your mind to fester for years in a simmering stew of self-righteousness and prejudice. In Tom’s hate-warped brain, it actually seemed like a good idea to go on Fux Nooz to demand that American universities cease teaching Chinese students science. That happened. In the real world. “Shakespeare and the Federalist Papers” are still okay though, but I think we need to follow up with the Senator’s office, get some clarification. Is a business major permissible, or can we afford the risk to America’s strategic stockpile of shift management techniques?
Now, Tom’s dumbshit proposal is of course hellaciously racist, but please don’t ignore the fact that it’s also gobsmackingly stupid. This dolt is a U.S. Senator. This is an idea he had that he felt was good enough to share with the whole world on live television. He thinks mom should stick this one to the fridge with her best magnet. Lord. Tells you everything you need to know about Cotton and the malicious twerps who platform him that all they have to offer during this global crisis is a little more fuel for the fires of hatred, while countless Asian and Asian-American health care professionals risk their lives daily.
Famed Arizona Republiclown Kelli Ward has figured out how to dupe the lamestream librul media, proposing Operation: Trojan Nurse, in which astroturfed anti-quarantine protesters would clothe themselves not in Confederate flags, but the garb of health care providers! Wow, and you totally woulda gotten away with it, Kelli, if you hadn’t POSTED YOUR MASTER PLAN RIGHT ON FUCKING TWITTER, and also if this flock of rectal boils could actually pass for medical professionals, and wouldn’t get tripped up by the first reporter who asked “so which side of the body is the heart on, Doc?” The conservative mind is not as clever as it believes itself to be.
Meanwhile Kim Jong-un has become Schrödinger’s Dictator, somehow both alive and dead, and also, mysteriously, existing on some levels of reality as a strawberry cheesecake Jell-O pudding cup. This story does not, as you will note, fit neatly in with the blog’s theme, which upsets no one more than me, I assure you.
But I can get right back on track with the tale of Audrey Whitlock, a leader of the North Carolina cell of the Your Life For My Haircut crowd. Audrey is throwing quite the little tantrum that she was forced to quarantine after testing positive for COVID-19, painting herself as a modern-day George Washington willing to (make you) die for her right to spread contagion throughout her community, potentially killing her neighbors over an impulse trip down to the corner shop for some vape pens and an Almond Joy. This gets to heart of a key aspect of the Republican psyche, the perversion of the very concept of liberty, where your “freedom” to indulge your slightest whim is more important than your fellow humans’ lives.
So, let’s take a look at that perversion on the macro level. Now, Republicans are really in a pickle these days. Their whole November strategy, basically “Lookit This Sexxxy Economy Who Needs Decency or Democracy Anyhow,” ran into the coronavirus buzzsaw, because asking the 26 million newly-unemployed if they’re better off than they were four years ago suddenly seems like a shit plan. Now, a functioning brain would say, hey, let’s emulate New Zealand here. Let’s ramp up testing. Let’s enforce strict, universal, lockdown policies as long as we have to, and then, once we’ve got shit under control, we can ease back into something resembling normal life, in a careful, orderly, fashion. Let’s stay safe and save lives.
Ah, but this is not how the Republican mind works! Long-term planning eludes the conservative almost completely. Sacrificing comfort today to ensure a better tomorrow simply does not register as a viable possibility. The cost TODAY is all that matters. And that’s why the GOP, in its giddiness to push the serf class back out the door and into potentially lethal working conditions, isn’t focused on procuring the testing or protective equipment needed to keep people safe, but rather on shielding employers from liability for the inevitable ensuing avalanche of infections. Yes, they know we will get sick by the millions if we go back to work now. They don’t care about that, they care about your boss getting sued for putting your life in danger in the first place.
Indeed, the Velveeta Vulgarian announced today that he’ll sign an executive order compelling meat packing plants to remain open, creating a zone as free of legal consequences for the owners as it of PPE for the rank-and-file workers. And yes, you’re not dreaming, this is already an industry that’s been hit hard by the coronavirus, with outbreaks in numerous plants leading to shutdowns. There’s no mandate to create safer working conditions, of course, just Git Out There and Work Till You Die, Peasants. Now I see Iowa Governor Kim Reynolds proclaiming that any plebs who don’t feel like showing up for work in the hot zone will be ineligible for unemployment, since they value their own worthless lives more than her precious economy. Guess which political party Kim’s a member of?
Politico reports, “tens of millions of pounds of American-grown produce is rotting in fields as food banks across the country scramble to meet a massive surge in demand,” because the Republican commitment to moronic axioms like “government is the problem, not the solution,” means they can’t, or won’t, use the powers of government to help the American people even when government is the clear, best, or even ONLY FUCKING SOLUTION. This is Shitty Wonderland, my friends; Lewis Carroll has switched from opium to basement-lab meth. I would very much like to leave.
Above all else, the Trumpian mind is consumed at all hours by nagging resentments, leaving little room for stupid cuck shit like “doing your job as President of the United States.” That’s how you wind up with our own Adderall-Addled Assclown, shuffling around in the midst of the pandemic whose spread he enabled at every turn, unmoved by the massive list of vital, life-saving, tasks he’s still fucking neglecting all these weeks later, instead devoting his time to screeching into the void his longstanding grievances about journalists and their unjustly-won “Noble Prizes.”
Someday, some intrepid adventurer will risk their life attempting scale the colossal mountain of evidence that Tangerine Idi Amin knew about the dangers of the coronavirus weeks in advance of doing anything about it, opting instead to golf and lie while the little fucker spread throughout the populace. Now we’ve learned the intelligence community was screaming DO SOMETHING, YOU MALODOROUS SCATMOUND in the President’s Daily Brief as far back as January. But you see, the President doesn’t LIKE reading, and therefore 59,000 Americans (and counting) had to die. Again, his momentary displeasure > your life. We passed 1,000,000 officially documented cases yesterday, by the way.
Vice President Mike Pants took himself a little field trip to the Mayo Clinic, pointedly refusing to follow their requirement that everyone wear a mask, and if some enterprising viral beatniks happened to hitch a ride on Mikey Hairshirt back to his place of business, wouldn’t that just be a shame? Here we see the Veep valuing the approval of his Turd Emperor over his own health, or the health of the millions who (tragically, inexplicably) look to him as a role model during this outbreak. Mike was never too bright to begin with, and now his brain is just full-on broke.
And now Government Cheese Goebbels wants to tie coronavirus relief funding to immigration policy, his latest stab at blackmailing states into abandoning sanctuary city laws. You see here that the Trumpian mind is incapable of learning, returning to the corrupt quid pro quo well even after getting impeached for such behavior just a few short weeks ago.
(Oddly, there do not seem to be any such strings attached to the $96.1 million bailout his big donor buddy (a dude named Monty Bennett, I guess because “Beaufort Whitecastle” was taken) snuck through a loophole in the PPP fund intended to help small businesses.)
In conclusion, the Early 21st Century Trumpist Conservative Republican Mind is a dark and damaged thing, a diseased clump of misfiring neurons incapable of empathy, logic, or even simple math; it is, in short, the mind of a Giant Burning Asshole. I certainly hope none of y’all are locked up with one right now. Which brings us back to Saw. And with that, I sign off...stay safe out there, Shower Captives!
You Know What They Say: A Bleach Enema a Day Keeps the COVID Away! (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Well, the shelter-in-place orders are getting extended, and human civilization is a rapidly-fading memory. But we can still gather ‘round a campfire digitally, dammit, and we don’t even need to wear masks! So pour yourself a tall, frosty, glass of bleach, and let’s look back on another week in Hell.
(Hey, wouldn’t it be cool to see this post, only WITH nifty news links? Why, click here: http://showercapblog.com/you-know-what-they-say-a-bleach-enema-a-day-keeps-the-covid-away/)
Like most folks, I spend very little time thinking about the mayors of cities where I don’t live. But after Las Vegas Mayor Carolyn Goodman's breakout media tour this week, I’m starting to wonder if I’m not missing out on some restaurant-quality lunacy. Like, maybe Cleveland is run by some flat-earther who only travels by unicycle? Did Fargo perhaps elect a semi-retired rodeo clown with a penchant for public nudity? Shit, for all I know, the Mayor of Topeka is a macaw that lives on Nutter Butters and Listerine. What’ve all you zany municipalities been holding out on us, huh?
But you’ve all got a lotta work to do if you wanna catch up to Goodman in terms of raw batshittiness. Offering the good citizens of Vegas up as a “control group,” she wants to turn the Strip into a COVID-19 playground, and if a few thousand people get sick and die, well ya gotta go sometime, right, but Carolyn will not be joining you in the petri dish, thanks for asking, she has a family, and that family matters, unlike all those sacrificial plebs. I feel like volunteering your constituents for potentially lethal experiments is unwise politically, but ultimately, I am simply a drunken goofball wearing a luchador mask, so feel free to ignore me.
While Hairplug Himmler’s haphazard coronavirus response has been filled with blunders and contradictions, one aspect has been depressingly constant: purging the government of qualified professionals with actual medical and scientific expertise. He threatened to fire a leading CDC official, blaming her public warnings for a stock market dip, because you can always pretend the Dow Jones is soaring when your head is firmly buried in the sand. And Dr. Rick Bright, the dude who was in charge of the federal agency working on the coronavirus vaccine, got shitcanned for the high crime of refusing to pimp Littlefinger’s bullshit hydroxychloroquine miracle cure. Oh well. I’m sure developing vaccines is super-easy work and pretty much anybody off the street could do Dr. Bright’s job. I hear Alex Cora is available.
Meanwhile, to replace all those stupid cuck doctors and scientists, Alex Azar hired a labradoodle breeder to head up the coronavirus task force. Now, at first glance, that probably seems like a joke, what with the delightful specificity of the word “labradoodle,” but no, this is real life, and here in the real world, the immunologists with years of experience are out, and the labradoodle breeders are in. Hope you weren’t planning on leaving the house any time soon, we’re gonna be here awhile. We are, dare I say it...labradoomed.
There are so few pleasures available to us in these godawful times, but watching Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s craven Republican enablers get flung under the bus for their obsequious attempts to please him is certainly at the top of the list. In the case of Georgia Governor Brian Kemp, they filled the bus up with elephants and cartoon anvils first, and then threw him under it. See, Kemp figured if he was the very first governor to reopen his state’s economy, his Turd Emperor would pat him on the head, maybe even let him sleep at the foot of the bed, in Lindsey Graham’s spot, for a night or two. Alas, there was no head pat, only a steam-powered taint punt, delivered live, in prime time. Maybe Brian can console himself with an I Got Hundreds of My Constituents Killed and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt kinda thing.
Most of this blog targets Republicans, and that’s because they fucking well deserve it, but in the interest of fairness, I think it’s important to call out Democrats when they falter. Therefore, it is with a heavy heart that I draw your attention to the Lovecraftian horror that is Senator Mark Warner’s tuna melt recipe. Honestly, we need bipartisan investigations here. Dems, we MUST be better than this.
Mitch McConnell looked upon the economy that his party had created, with its shuttered storefronts and 26 million newly unemployed, and declared that it was good enough! He further proclaimed that he favored states going into bankruptcy over any further “blue state bailouts.” (And yes, he said this from the perch he’s earned from decades of leeching blue state cash for his old Kentucky home. Shame is dead, did you miss that meeting?) Andrew Cuomo responded by asking Yertle just where, precisely, on his wrinkly ol’ shell he would like his second asshole torn, though he did not wait for an answer before commencing said tearing.
Like the goober sitcom husband who buys his wife the power tool/talking fish plaque/dog butler statue that he himself wanted for her “birthday present,” Fat Q*Bert announced that U.S. military planes would conduct flyovers in as many as 30 cities, allegedly to show support for medical professionals, at the cost of more than $60,000 per hour, billed to all us chump taxpayers, of course. That money could pay for a whole lotta much-needed PPE, but PPE won’t fluff a demented old asshat’s ego, so y’know...hope you enjoy the window-rattling roar of jet engines while you risk your lives, health care workers!
Anyway, the big story is that basically every public figure, news organization, and household cleaning supplies manufacturer had to spend the day frantically shouting PLEASE DON’T DRINK BLEACH YOU WILL DIE because of something the President of the United States said on live television, in case anybody is interested in traveling back in time to 2016 to slap one of those “how bad can things possibly get?” types.
Yes, Dr. Dotard, still desperately searching for the medical equivalent of Daddy’s Money Bailing Him Out of Trouble, casually suggested that maybe mainlining Lysol, chugging Clorox, or shooting Tilex directly into your fucking eyeball will cure COVID-19 so everybody can get back to golfing and/or paying taxes so their grifter President can profit from golfing.
So here we are. It seems like only yesterday we were laughing at Sean Spicer’s sad little crowd size lies, and now President Jim Jones But Dumber stands at his bully pulpit and tells Americans to swallow poison. Since SWALLOWING POISON is a partisan issue now, I guess I’m prouder than ever to be a Democrat, but somebody should formally add that shit to the party platform, alongside distressingly-necessary entries like “Democracy is good” and “Nazis are not, in fact, very fine people.”
Shart Garfunkel further suggested ultraviolet light as another magical corona-b-gone solution, which is equally stupid, but at least a little less dangerous. I say that now, but I certainly won’t be surprised if a handful of “Florida man hospitalized with shattered UV bulb up his ass” stories popped up over the weekend.
The Candycorn Skidmark tried to lie his way out of YouShouldDrinkBleachGate by claiming he was simply playing a hilarious prank on the White House press corps, and no one even pretended to believe him. These are the consequences for lying about stupid shit like “Yo-Yo Ma called me up yesterday just to say he wishes he could play the cello as good as me,” you bloated twit.
Uncanny Valley Centerfold Stephen Miller is passing the time in quarantine by phoning up his dirtbag white nationalist pals to fantasize about using the pandemic as an excuse to further increase immigration restrictions, and between this and the bleach thing, the Turdmaggot Administration’s commitment to whitening America cannot be doubted.
So, one of the biggest reasons we’re looking at a body count of 50,000 and rising, with no end in sight, is that the Marmalade Shartcannon blindly accepted, and indeed dutifully parroted the Chinese government’s lying propaganda, refusing to prepare while the COVID-19 tiptoed through America’s tulips from coast to fucking coast. And now it turns out, he owes TWO HUNDRED AND ELEVEN MILLION DOLLARS to the state-owned Bank of China? And the bill’s due in 2022? I’d say there should be laws against this sort of thing, but of course there already are, it’s just that the GOP is too gleefully corrupt to enforce them.
Hilariously, the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus’ current general election strategy is to paint Smilin’ Joe Biden as...weak on China. Not sure Mr. “You’ll get your money, President Xi, anyway, what was it you wanted me to say on TV? I tried to write it down but I forgot, I’m basically illiterate” wants to pick that particular fight, but I am happy watch him try.
The Failing New York Times took a peek behind the curtain at the Shart House, offering us a little taste of the Lifestyles of the Dumb and Narcissistic in this age of coronavirus. Basically the Offal in the Oval is either bellowing his way through the Daily Propaganda Spew, or obsessively watching coverage of himself on television, which he then goes on to whine about at the next DPS, like a shitty, spray-tanned, ouroboros, choking on its too-long necktie.
There’s probably more, but my God, the weekend is so close I can fucking taste it. I need that weekend, folks. Need it. Neeeeeed it. Stay safe, and I’ll see y’all next week!
PS - The meme in tonight’s post is not one of my own making, which is my usual policy. Found it on the Tweetymachine, and I don’t know who to credit for it, but thanks, whoever you are, I owe you a beer!
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