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Member since: Fri Mar 24, 2017, 06:48 PM
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Marjorie Taylor Greene Week Leaves Me Longing For Infrastructure Week's Simple Incompetence (F/SC)

I almost hesitate to yank away the warm, fuzzy blanket of Biden-y normalcy, but shit remains deeply cray. In fact, we’re witnessing a disturbing number of (admittedly weak-minded) public officials carefully, deliberately choosing the crayest available options from a buffet well-stocked with sane alternatives, and while I appreciate that cult deprogramming is difficult, just...just give us a fuckin’ break, man.

(You want this shit in color? With all kindsa informative links n’ shit? Click here: http://showercapblog.com/marjorie-taylor-greene-week-leaves-me-longing-for-infrastructure-weeks-simple-incompetence/)

About nineteen seconds after I got last week’s post up, news broke of YET ANOTHER criminal attempt by then-President Gas Station Urinal Cake to overturn the 2020 election and seize power as a dictator. This one involved some cut-rate DoJ stooge bureaucrat* called Jeffrey Clark, and his Gohmertian plot to end American democracy using some idiotic, made-up procedural trick. Like so much of the news from the Transition Period That Would Not Motherfucking Die, that story read like an episode of the West Wing scripted by Tom Clancy with a railroad spike through his brain.

You read this crap, and you realize this shitty little Clark twerp got it into his head that HE was going to be the one to deliver the nation to Donald Trump on a plate, and the new Führer would be grateful, and appoint him Minister of Justice for the entire Thousand Year Reich, and folks, THIS is how it happens here. Because skidmark-souled men like Jeffrey Clark and Mark Meadows and Matt Gaetz and Gym Jordan will happily enable the Turd Emperor’s every crime in exchange for the crumbs of power that dribble from his sphincter-like mouth.

Now, given recent events, you would think the GOP would practically strut down this gift-wrapped, candy-coated, lovingly-dipped-in-nectar-and-ambrosia off-ramp that appeared magically before them. Honestly, it seemed unfair to me, that, having milked that pissant proto-fascist for three Supreme Court justices and a massive tax cut for their oligarch masters, the Republican Party was gifted such a perfect opportunity to wash their hands of him forever. He committed an act of unforgivable treason. They were free to walk away, squeaky clean, righteously indignant even.

But I guess when the moment actually comes, and you’re staring in disbelief at the thrift shop clerk who isn’t willing to go above a buck fifty for your sweaty, mayonnaise-stained death cult robes, it’s hard to let go. Sure, you lost both houses of Congress and the White House, and transformed into an authentic 21st century American Nazi in the process, but remember that summer you spent chanting “lock her up” alongside your fellow rage-warped white mediocrities? It was like Grease, only with less singing and also everybody was a racist loser.

So instead of letting the fever break, the Texas state Republican Party incorporated a QAnon slogan into their official branding. The Hawaiian sub-sect of Cult45 elevated a “comicsgate” creep to the position of vice chairman, only to be caught off guard somehow when he used official party social media accounts to pimp Q trash. In Arizona, Kelli Ward’s band of turd-gargling maniacs censured Cindy McCain, Jeff Flake, and Governor Doug Ducey for the high crime of refusing to help overthrow the United States government for a totalitarian game show host.

Unwilling to be out-crazied, the Oregon GOP proclaimed, via barely-legible feces smears on their meth dealer’s living room wall, that the Capitol riot was a “false flag” operation, designed to make Hairplug Himmler and his Legion of Losers look bad, as though any assistance is required on that particular front.

I suppose it shouldn’t surprise anyone that a party/cult/malodorous wad of freaks so devoted to enshrining bullshit as gospel would also require a few false idols to worship, and Tom Cotton and Madison Cawthorn certainly haven’t been shy about stealing whatever valor is necessary to hoover up the slavering throng’s deranged adulation.

Speaking of MAGA nation’s deplorable role models, child soldier Kyle Rittenhouse has been banned from associating with white supremacists, because even after murdering two human beings, he’s out on bail, partying with white supremacists, yet another perfectly reasonable decision rendered by our not-at-all racist justice system.

I see the vanquished Velveeta Vulgarian briefly toyed with the idea of starting a third party, a No Willards Allowed death cult of his very own, but then he remembered that half the jurors in his pending impeachment trial are members of the party he was attempting to threaten. (The threats will resume promptly after acquittal, of course, but I think we can throw in the towel on the GOP learning that lesson by now.)

Marm-a-Lago is reportedly hemorrhaging members, by the way, because I guess the atmosphere around a toppled tyrant isn’t exactly festive. Yeah, I’m told Eva Braun’s attempts to spruce up the ol’ bunker ultimately went unappreciated, too.

Ted Cruz naturally wants to change the subject from the bloodthirsty white supremacist mob he incited, so he instigated a “Twitter feud” with affable film personality Seth Rogen, sliding effortlessly from agitating for the violent overthrow of the federal government to the mewling victimhood that defines his increasingly embarrassing “brand.” Like, we know Ted aspires to higher office, but seriously, what is his plan to make the public forget that he is literally the most pathetic, bottom-feeding weasel in American politics? Hypnotism?

Look out, Arkansas, Sarah Huckleberry Slanders is back, and she’s bringing her dimestore autocrat incompetence to YOUR Governor’s Mansion! I don’t know what to even say; the contract between a Trumpist politician and their voters runs a little something like, “I will enrich myself while exacerbating every problem that lands on my desk, but in exchange for the measurable decline in your quality of life, I will lie to your face about who’s to blame, allowing you to bury your head in the sweet, soothing sand of resentment,” and honestly, the base seems more than happy with these terms.

So, Rudy Giuliani is apparently getting sued for not only every dime he’s worth, but everything he possesses of any value, down to those precious memories of backseat incest from his bygone youth, back when he could scarcely dream he’d someday wind up as the single slimiest colon polyp in a cancerous fascist invasion of American democracy.

Since the American right refuses to self-regulate, I feel like these Dominion lawsuits might be our best shot at seeing actual consequences for the, y’know, the months-long disinformation campaign that culminated in an armed coup attempt. The Senate somehow lacks the courage to convict Government Cheese Goebbels for whipping up a lynch mob to murder his enemies, but should a precious Corporate Entity become collateral damage to the terrorist fallout of your Big Lie, all mercy will be denied ye.

I’m not saying it’s a good system, I’m saying I want to see Rudy squeezed like a zit, and I’m willing to subscribe to any streaming service that can deliver that shit.

Mitch McConnell finally consented to allow Democrats to run the Senate they won, though I’m sure he still follows the new Majority Leader around all day like a lost puppy, threatening to filibuster Schumer’s second slice of pie or some shit. Chuck earned that pie, Buster, by skipping straight to reconciliation for the big Biden coronavirus stimulus bill. Fool us once, shame on us, won’t get fooled again, fuck you, Yertle, stand in the corner and whine while we help the people you failed, eat shit forever.

Forty-five Republican Senators voted to give themselves a Get Out of This Vote I Don’t Want to Explain to the Electorate Back Home Free card, cuz impeaching a former President is...unconstitutional, yeah, that’s the ticket, everybody knows the founding fathers envisioned the lame duck period as a time when the outgoing incumbent, as a reward for his service, is formally elevated above any and all laws, free to hunt serfs for sport should he so choose. As a treat.

The state of Oklahoma is, hilariously, attempting to return the hydroxychloroquine stockpile they foolishly dropped a couple million bucks on last year. There should be punishment for buying two million dollars’ worth of hydroxychloroquine on Donald Trump’s advice, if only that you’re stuck with two million dollars’ worth of hydroxychloroquine instead of two million dollars. I’m told the Oklahoma attorney general is also kicking himself for throwing out the receipt for those sixty thousand bottles of bleach he bought from Target.

In many ways, this was Marjorie Taylor Greene Week, because it seemed like you couldn’t refresh your feed without discovering some shocking new depth to that loon’s seemingly limitless reservoir of awful behavior. The Vainglorious MTG is a slur-spewing, school-shooting-survivor-harassing wonder of science: with the intellectual capacity of Tommy Tuberville, the casual bigotry of Steve King, and her own unique strain of whatever fungus has been chewing on Alex Jones’ brain, she’s some sort of hideously sewn-together hybrid Republican, and she clearly misinterpreted the old Jews in Space bit as a rather ominous threat.

Ok, the preceding overstuffed paragraph contains Thursday’s Marjorie Taylor Greene news. Take a deep breath, use the restroom, maybe make yourself a snack, because we’re about to move on to Friday’s Marjorie Taylor Greene news.

Like the part where she unleashed so much maskless spittle on a Democratic colleague during a hallway confrontation that Congresswoman Cori Bush has been forced to relocate her office to protect her staff. Or the video Mother Jones unearthed, of MTG calling for terrorist violence (I know, I know, throw it on the pile). Or her demented quest to force Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib to re-take their congressional oaths on Christian bibles, based on one of her many delusions.

Congratulations, Minority Leader McCarthy: this insane Nazi lady is the face of your caucus. Oh. Excuse me, sir, I didn’t mean to disturb you...I just figured since Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot fled Washington in defeat and disgrace, there would no longer be any need for you to orally polish his hemorrhoids, let alone fly all the way to Florida for the opportunity, but...I suppose after four years, you must get to like it down there. Apparently.

See, that’s why it’s REALLY Marjorie Taylor Greene Week, because the institutional Republican Party has gazed upon the roaring-blaze-in-the-dumpster-behind-Mengele’s-place their party has become, and decided, “we should probably put that fire out, sure, but look at how prettily it burns!”

Screw Reagan, skullfuck that race traitor cuck Lincoln, hell, there isn’t room for LIZ FREAKING CHENEY in this tent anymore, non-bathsalt-guzzlers need not apply! To pass the time as I worry about what all this means for the future of my beloved country, I plan on working up a slasher flick pitch where Mitt Romney and Lisa Murkowski have to escape a Panhandle fundraiser for Matt Gaetz, when the donors go savagely insane after ingesting generic Russian meth from the open bar.

But Joe Biden wore a Rolex to his inauguration and he owns a piece of home exercise equipment, so y’know, America’s two political parties exist in a state of perfect ChuckToddian equivalence.

SOME WEEK, HUH? And that’s not even factoring in the stock market madness. But yeah, I think we’re gonna try this once-a-week schedule for now, folks. Might pop up with an extra entry now and then, if the poonami suddenly surges, but we’ll see. Stay safe out there, friends. May your future contain vaccines and adult beverages.

*Or is it “bureaucrat stooge?” I defer to the experts. 

Wait, Not All the News is Soul-Crushingly Horrifying, What the Fuck is Going On? (F/SC)

While shit remains generally cray, it must be said shit is substantially less cray than at any point in recent memory, and with numerous decrayification initiatives already underway, and new ones launching all the time, we may yet live to see the day when shit is merely endearingly eccentric. For now, the news:

(For links n’ color n’ god knows what else, click here: http://showercapblog.com/wait-not-all-the-news-is-soul-crushingly-horrifying-what-the-fuck-is-going-on/)

Well, for the first time in four years, the President of the United States isn’t a resentment-driven bigot manchild with a stale, maggot-chewed raisin for a brain*, and the Vice President isn’t afraid to be alone in a room with a member of a different gender, and malignant cable news pundits are no longer setting federal policy, and I can’t speak for y’all, but personally, I’ve spent the last few days experiencing a degree of exuberant bliss seldom witnessed outside shampoo commercials.

Joe n’ Kamala rolled up their freshly-inaugurated sleeves and got straight to work, cuz the Augean stables ain’t gonna clean themselves, folks. Stephen Miller’s pained shriek shattered windows for miles in every direction as the new administration announced a 100-day pause on most deportations, and the end of Big Stupid Wall construction. New oil and gas leases/drilling permits on U.S. lands and waters have also been paused, and the unceasing fire hose of fascist disinformation has finally, finally been shut off in the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room. This paragraph contains more good news than any six blogs I have written to date.

We’ve rejoined the World Health Organization and the Paris Climate Agreement and I think Luxembourg is willing to receive our diplomats again. Don’t tell Mike Pompeo, I wouldn’t want to interrupt his “swagger” time, when he dresses up in costumes and goose-steps around the backyard.

Reviews have not been universally positive, of course. The novel coronavirus which causes Covid-19 is reportedly incensed that the Biden Administration is rezoning the pandemic’s playground, which before Wednesday stretched, unobstructed, from sea to shining fucking sea. Still, how can you look at the dog-tired-yet-joyful relief on Dr. Fauci’s face and not share his optimism that, after months of a death cult’s mad mismanagement, we’re finally on track to get this shit under control?

Biden’s inaugural speech was lovely and inspiring and unifying, but science has yet to discover any substance or energy 21st century conservatives can’t wring victimhood from, and this was no exception. Joe was all, “White supremacists are bad! Terrorists are bad!” and Republicans were all, “Stop saying mean things about us,” and we went, “A-HA, you’re telling on yourselves,” and honestly, Rand Paul’s probably arguing in caucus meetings that it’d simplify things if they’d all just put on the damn hoods and be done it.

Meanwhile, there is no joy in BrainwashedDipshitRubeville, mighty Q has struck out. Again. Just like literally every single other time that demented loser cult promised anything at all, from mass arrests of child-trafficking liberal satanists to a coupon for a free soft drink with qualifying chalupa purchase. I’m told this experience has been quite traumatic for some of these creeps, to which I say, “Fuck you, when I found out the Easter Bunny was my dad, I got over it in about 40 seconds, and I was five.”

Speaking of the pathetic mewling of vanquished deadbeats, it appears the Proud Boys are throwing their loudest shitfit since Mom announced they’d have to pay for their own Hot Pockets and Capri Suns from now on, because Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot left them to rot in prison while merrily dispensing pardon after pardon for his rich chums.

Golly, what do you do when your Turd Emperor turns out to be just another run-of-the-mill normie cuck? I guess you could try getting a life, but I imagine one doesn’t label oneself a “proud” “boy” unless that particular ship sailed long ago.

Seems the Frothing HateYokel Caucus figures that “two weeks after we incited a white supremacist mob to storm this very building in search of Democrats to murder” is the appropriate moment in time to attempt to smuggle firearms onto the House floor. Look, Congressman Harris, it’s members of YOUR party who stand credibly accused of collaborating with bloodthirsty insurrectionists, so you’re going to need to figure out some way to manage whatever fears you have of Steny Hoyer tackling you without your precious weenie substitute.

Meanwhile, Marjorie Taylor Greene, freshly revealed as both a Sandy Hook AND 9/11 truther, in addition to her previously-disclosed delusions, has embarked on a fool’s quest** to impeach Joe Biden over crimes alleged by the elves that live in the fillings of her teeth. No, I don’t think John Boehner regrets retiring, why do you ask?

Mitch McConnell, never comfortable in the role of lawmaker, returned to his more familiar post as the fossilized mammoth turd obstructing the road to progress. Still, Wrinkly Gamera’s early demand, that Senate Dems unilaterally disarm, and abandon the threat to nuke the filibuster before a single legislative battle has even taken shape, has been rebuffed by shiny new Senate Majority Leader Chuck “I Am Unwilling to Publicly Reveal How Many Fucks I Have Left to Give at This Time” Schumer.

I see the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus funneled millions of dollars, through shadowy shell companies, to many of the very seditionist turdnozzles who organized the terrorist attack on the Capitol earlier this month. Before long, we’re gonna find out Eric n’ Junior were down in that crowd, passing out meth and zip ties, aren’t we?

And as for Hairplug Himmler, so recently the cancer gnawing away at our minds and our hearts and our souls every motherfucking minute of every goddamn day, well, he’s...gone. Can’t even tweet.

I confess, while I’d long fantasized about the shackles snapping into place around those tiny, inadequate wrists the very moment Smilin’ Joe finished his oath, this is even better; diminished to nigh-nonexistence by his doomed criminal efforts to overturn his landslide defeat, Little Donnie One-Term slunk away to Marm-a-Lago, barely noticed, following an early morning sendoff attended by his loser family and about half a dozen of the clingiest remaining Trumpworld dingleberries, those lacking the brains (or, more likely, the options) to jump off the swiftly sinking Shartanic. Nowhere to hide from the loserstink he emits as though he were comprised of pure, radioactive Losernium. Perfect.

As expected, he issued a final round of largely appalling pardons, really rubbin’ the founding fathers’ noses in the powers they handed him. (In all fairness, boys, while I’m generally a fan of your Constitution, it appears y’all left some shit out.)

He also signed one last executive order, undoing his own earlier EO, establishing lobbying limitations and other ethics rules for his appointees, and god only knows why I’m writing this blog instead of sending Nigerian Prince emails to the drooling marks who actually fell for that “drain the swamp” shit.

So, a lot of folks have been asking what the big change in management means for Shower Cap’s Blog, and...the truth is, I'm not sure.

Trumpism clearly isn’t going anywhere, as the poo-flinging asylum Kevin McCarthy calls his caucus clearly demonstrates, so I imagine I’ll still have plenty to write about, but...maybe not quite as frequently as in the days of the Turd Reich. I kind of assume that as normalcy takes hold of the federal government, the ol’ Cap Signal (just a regular spotlight, but you hold a bottle of MGD in front of it) may sit idle for days at a time.

So maybe these posts will become a little less frequent. Once a week seems likely, but we’ll see how the headlines shake out. I’m gonna play it by ear for now.

Sign up for updates on the main page, follow @CapShower on Twitter, and we’ll figure it out. You certainly haven’t heard the last of me, and hey, just as my latest comic book, MINE, works its way through our poor, beleaguered postal system, work has begun on a new project, which looks to be extra fun for an audience of dedicated Resisters.

More on that soon. For now, stay safe out there, and why not take this weekend to celebrate our victory in the 2020 election for the 842nd time?

*Do maggots eat raisins? Nobody fact-check my shit, okay?

**No other kind is available to her, for obvious reasons. 

The Turd Reich Falls! (...Directly on the MyPillow Guy's Head, Apparently) (F/SC)

Figured I’d give y’all a little somethin’ to read while you’re waiting for the clerk to restock the champagne shelf. (Yer own fault for waiting until the last minute, there was always gonna be a rush) Anyway, the end of America’s first openly fascist presidency is, in my humble opinion, pretty rad. Let’s talk about it.

(If you want this post with color n’ news links, GIT IT: http://showercapblog.com/the-turd-reich-falls-directly-on-the-mypillow-guys-head-apparently/)

I know we were just laughing at Betsy DeVos and Elaine Chao, but they’ve got nothin’ on HHS Secretary Alex Azar and his feeble stab at a Far Far Better Thing moment of his own. Shit, Mel Gibson might just need to make a movie about Alex, such was his valor in submitting that o-so-principled resignation, effective the day his enabling ass was getting fired anyway. What next? Will Ben Carson burst through the doors, twenty minutes into Joe’s first State of the Union, proclaiming he’s Finally Had Enough of Donald Trump’s Lies™️?

Online misinformation about voter fraud in the 2020 election dropped 73% in the aftermath of Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops’ social media ban, and I love everything about that sentence except the part where we gave that dime store dictator a platform to pour his poison into our ears, all goddamn day long, in the first place. Still, sure is fun watchin’ him shrink into nothingness without a stage to bellow from, innit?

I’ve spent much of the past few days cackling to myself over the delectable catch-22 facing President Crotchrot in his upcoming second impeachment trial: nobody but Rudy Giuliani is dumb/crazy/treasonous enough to represent him legally, but Amerikkka’s Mayor can’t take the gig because he’s a witness in the trial, having done his level best on January 6th to incite the assembled Loser Legion to seek “trial by combat.” (Golly, how does Wee Don keep getting into these WACKY predicaments?)

On the other hand, the argument could be made that the public is being cheated out of the spectacle of Trenchmouth McCousinfucker’s planned defense, which was to involve “proving” his widely debunked litany of voter fraud lies, since that went so well the last time he tried it. Not that doing so would provide a legal justification for terrorist insurrection, of course. Like, if you incite a violent mob to storm an Arby’s, the objective tastiness of the curly fries is not a valid excuse for bludgeoning the manager to death with a fire extinguisher. Am I going too fast for anyone?

I’m pleased to report I’m still sickened by the news of the “pardon market” that’s sprung up in these lame duck days of the Turd Reich. Four years of flooding the zone with shit, you gaslighting bastards couldn’t wear out my capacity for outrage at your shameless corruption, though nobody can say you didn’t try really fucking hard. Anyway, you’re about to find out it’s less fun begging for pardons than passing ‘em out like candy.

Meanwhile, the federal prison system continues to swell with the ranks of the blockhead brigade that stormed the Capitol a few days back, in hopes of making Louie Gohmert’s Dumbest Wish come true. That girl who stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop with the intention of selling it to the Russians got arrested. Did I mention the mob contained a girl who stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop with the intention of selling it to the Russians? I don’t think I did. So, this girl stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop, with the intention of selling it to the Russians, but now she’s in jail, with all the other “patriots.”

Of course, now that most of the clowns have been rounded up, we’re starting to see arrests of the scarier, more organized militia types. And with rumors growing of lawmakers begging their Hemorrhoid Emperor for pardons over their roles in this stupid, yes, but inescapably violent coup attempt, I don’t think any of us have screamed our last WHAT THE LIVING FUCK at a breaking news push notification, y’know?

I always knew Lindsey Graham would go down groveling, and hoo boy, he did not disappoint. Bet he sneaks into Melania’s luggage and winds up curled in front of the fireplace down at Marm-a-Lago, hoping everybody just assumes someone else invited him.

I see the Taintmaggot Administration chose their final Martin Luther King Jr. Day in office to release one last wheezing asparagus fart of institutional white supremacy, unveiling the so-called “1776 Report,” a Stephen Miller shitfit poorly disguised as a “rebuttal” to the New York Times’ 1619 Project. Complied by a particularly subpar gaggle of Trumpist mediocrities who, like the Fates of yore, share a single brain cell which they pass between themselves, the report serves, at the very least, as a tidy little debunking of the very notion of white supremacy, because if this tripe is the best y’all can come up with...yikes.

Here in the midst of one of the pandemic’s worst stretches yet, Hairplug Himmler actually tried to lift Covid-related travel bans. Now, there’s no possible logical reason to do this, unless you happened to be a vengeance-crazed septuagenarian toddler looking to add a few final turds to the gargantuan dookie mound you’re already leaving for the next guy, an unlikely scenario, yes, but surely we’ve all been trapped in Shitty Wonderland long enough to expect this sort of thing by now.

Honestly, it seems the lone remaining conservative value (outside of bigotry, of course) is spite. Whether sneaking unqualified loyalist hacks into the federal bureaucracy or implementing mischievous little last-minute regulations, you certainly can’t accuse Team Skidmark of passing up any opportunities for pettiness; I suppose you have to do something to fill the hours you’re not spending fighting the damn coronavirus, right?

We learned freshman Congressfreak Marjorie Taylor Greene’s devotion to wackadoo wingnut conspiracy trash runs even deeper than previously known; she claims the Parkland shooting was a “false flag,” perpetrated by the insidious likes of Nancy Pelosi and Hillary Clinton, to prevent Real Muricans like Marjorie from pouring meth and gunpowder on their morning bowl of Cocoa Puffs. If Kevin McCarthy really wants to keep this skeevy creep in his caucus, give her committee assignments and such, I say PROCEED.

As we reflect on Tangerine Idi Amin’s legacy, here on the eve of his departure, I think it’s important to be truthful. Fair. Balanced. He may not have been any good at managing the economy, or negotiating international agreements, or creating jobs, or building walls, or running casinos, or convincing his own wife to share his bed, but you have to admit, he had a real talent for getting Americans killed. 400,000 Covid deaths in less than a year is, you must admit, an eye-popping achievement. It’s a matter of perspective; he may’ve been the American public’s deadliest enemy in decades, but he’s the best friend a novel coronavirus could hope for.

Of course, the lying lamestream media suppresses the voices of these patriotic viruses, which is certainly a better explanation for the last-minute plunge in Shart Garfunkel’s approval ratings than any intrinsic American distaste for the violent overturning of presidential elections by the dumbest white dudes in all creation.

While I’m optimistic, we all know it’s far from certain the Velveeta Vulgarian will ever face justice for his many crimes, so, as a fallback plan, I’m looking to harvest as much schadenfreuderrific glee as I can from the category 5 shitstorm bearing down on that MyPillow fella’s pudding-filled head.

See, Mike Lindell threw his support, extremely publicly, behind a fascist coup...a week after it failed, and now he can’t figure out why national retail chains no longer want to sell his Nazi loser pillows, because I guess you don’t have to be Sun Tzu to make it big in the bedding game.

Even better, facing the same defamation lawsuit threats that have already sent multiple right-wing media outlets scrambling to issue obsequious retractions, Lindell defiantly, foolishly screeched COME AT ME BRO, and dude, worry not...they will. Coming in 2022: MyPillow, a subsidiary of the Dominion Voting Systems Corporation!

In short, like every single news cycle for the last four-plus years...shit be cray.

...but tonight, this river of monkey crap is washing right over me, because the next time we meet, Shower Captives, Joe Biden will be the President of the United States and Kamala Harris will be the Vice President of the United States, and I feel like I’ve been camped outside Tower Records waiting for this particular album to drop for oh, about four motherfucking years, give or take a century.

After an emotional farewell speech in his home state of Delaware, Smilin’ Joe packed up and headed back to our poor, besieged capital, ready to take power, with an eye on healing, progress, and cleaning up the various mile-high shitpiles left by his disinterested predecessor.

He’ll have help. Just in time, the Secretary of State in Georgia officially certified Ossoff n’ Warnock’s Senate wins, (so the Georgia GOP can move on with planned voter suppression efforts, don’t take your eyes off these fucks for a minute) so Mitch McConnell’s reign ends tomorrow as well. If one can overdose on glee, I’m gonna.

Determined to go out like a loser, Donnie Dotard refuses to attend the inauguration, and he can’t seem to give tickets away for his own going away party. And now begins the phase of his life where every knock on the door might just be law enforcement, come at last to take him away. That’ll be fun. For us, anyway.

I’m sure there’s plenty more last-minute fuckery out there, but y’know what? Tonight, let’s forget all that crap and get good n’ fucked up on HOPE. I haven’t looked forward to a tomorrow like this in...some time, folks. Stay safe out there. 

This Week in Hell: Bad Things Happen to Bad People, FINALLY (And the MyPillow Guy Was There) (F/SC)

It’s fascinating, looking at how folks’ politics evolved and changed over the last four years. Take me, for example: I used to consider myself primarily a gun control voter, but now the only thing I care about is shortening the interminable motherfucking lame duck period. This shit has to stop. I’m worried it won’t. The election was what, 15, 16 months ago? At least? WHY ARE WE STILL HERE?   

(For color n’ links n’ shit, click here: http://showercapblog.com/this-week-in-hell-bad-things-happen-to-bad-people-finally-and-the-mypillow-guy-was-there/)

Well, Sharty McFly went and got himself impeached again, I see. Wasn’t paying close attention, but I assume it had something to do with the whole “inciting a white nationalist mob to murder my enemies, I can’t lose power, I just can’t, you have no idea what Deutsche Bank’s bill collectors are capable of when your fingers are already tiny and fragile” thing.

(I think I’m supposed to praise the 10 Republicans who voted for impeachment this time, after enabling every other crime and atrocity, but I won’t do that, because I possess both a memory and standards.)

Y’know, for a dude who’s wasted his entire life on an obsessive crusade to prove to his dead, evil father that he’s not a loser...I mean, holy balls did Donnie Dotard ever miss that target. I’ve never seen so much concentrated losing in a such a short period of time, it must be like experiencing 100 years of Cubs baseball condensed into a single crotch punt. Lost the election in slow motion, re-lost it some 60-odd times over in every courtroom in America, and then, just when it looked like he’d still get to slip away to a life of comfort and influence, decided to strap Louie Gohmert’s Worst Idea to his own scrotum and let it drag him balls-first to bottom of the fucking sea, ensuring all the books to come end with a “and then, yeah, he pulled a Hitler,” chapter.

Seriously, if you harbor any ambitions towards being crowned the biggest loser in human history...give up. Seat’s taken.

We’re told Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot finds himself “isolated” in the aftermath of his fascistic blunder and the subsequent avalanche of consequences. Success, they say, has a thousand fathers; a failed fascist coup is an unlovable loser kid with a sphincter for a mouth I can’t stand the fucking sight of him just ship him to military school for Christ’s sake you said you were on the pill, Mary.

After years of watching clowns like Gym Jordan and Matt Gaetz shit themselves screeching about deep state plots to make Donald Trump forget how to pronounce Yosemite, it’s actually quite jarring to hear accusations that would feel similarly at home in a Tom Clancy novel, only from serious people, with legit national security credentials, who wouldn’t make such allegations lightly. People like New Jersey Congresswoman and former Navy helicopter pilot and federal prosecutor Mikie Sherrill.

Sherrill leads a group of more than 30 House Democrats in requesting some dang investigations, because it seems as though some of her unity-seeking colleagues across the proverbial aisle maybe kinda sorta gave some of the January 6th insurrectionist terrorists a reconnaissance pass through the Capitol in the form of a Friendly Ol’ Tour for Th’Folks Back Home, on...January 5th, though such tours have of course been suspended during the pandemic.

Even in an era overflowing with fucked-up shit, that is some FUCKED-UP SHIT. Like, as someone who already believed the House Republican Caucus contains three or four dozen of the very worst people alive, I still never imagined they could collaborate with terrorist seditionists in a plot to violently overthrow the government...but I tell you, friends, you look at the Lauren Boeberts and the Marjorie Taylor Greenes and the Madison Cawthorns and HELL YES you make those creeps go through metal detectors before you let them on the floor.

Because the more we learn about this riot, the scarier this moment in time feels. Like, I’m certainly grateful for the sugar rush that accompanies each Seditious Clod Arrest, if only for spicing up my doomscrolling, but this wasn’t all drooling fuckwits in stupid costumes stealing office furniture; that mob contained trained combatants using military tactics against law enforcement.

So I do believe I’ll take a pass on the unity n’ healing until we’ve worked this stuff out, thanks.

With his world collapsing around him, banks and cities cutting ties with his fascist loser family business, and law enforcement closing in, Hairplug Himmler, bless his rotten, festering heart, still made time to instruct his dwindling inner circle, “hey, nobody pay Rudy!” because fuck the one guy who’s still willing to atomize his reputation for you, right?

Course, now the Shart House is trying to walk that story back, because Giuliani is the closest thing to a lawyer they can find willing to defend Littlefinger at the impeachment trial. Fuck it, he’s gonna outlive us all. When President Tiffany activates the Doomsday Machine after misinterpreting a TikTok, all that’ll survive is roaches and Rudy, stumbling through the charred remains of Four Seasons Total Landscaping, demanding 20 grand a day from the molten dildos.

A new inspector general report says the Crotchmaggot Administration’s “zero tolerance” policy was exactly what it appeared to be: reckless malice perpetrated by gleeful bigots who heaped accidental atrocities on top of the ones they were shooting for intentionally, because they never in their wildest dreams imagined they’d be handed the naked power of the American presidency to wield as white nationalism’s sword, and so they fucked shit up in their fervor to hurt people. Jeff “Too Racist for the 80’s” Sessions was behind it all, because WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT TO HAPPEN WHEN YOU PUT A FUCKING KLANSMAN IN CHARGE OF THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE?!?!?

I guess Princess Ivanka and Jar-Jar got the creepy-crawlies at the thought of the filthy plebs in the Secret Service getting poor person germs all over their beautiful house, which they just paid off with the proceeds of all the state secrets they sold to the Saudis, so they forced the chump American taxpayer to foot the bill for a $3,000-a-month apartment so agents would have a place to pee when they weren’t busy looking out for bullets to take on behalf of their plutocrat betters. Are we absolutely certain we’re doing populism right?

Amidst the chaos and carnage, President-Elect Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. spent the day directing profane social media posts at a television actor he believed had insulted him, JUST KIDDING, he unveiled a big ol’ coronavirus relief proposal. In a curious departure from his predecessor’s tactics, Biden appears to be seeking solutions to problems, rather than loudly denying their existence. We’ll see how this plays out in the tabloids.

Somehow, even after bursting onto the national scene with a humiliating interview that revealed his sub-third-grade grasp of civics, Tommy Tuberville has been too busy (taking calls from would-be autocrats during terrorist sieges, apparently) to crack open the Complete Idiot’s Guide to the United States Constitution, or he’d know the presidential inauguration date is set in stone, and not subject to the passing whims of mediocre football coaches who figured the Senate was as good a place as any for an upwards-failing lunkhead to land.

I see Mike Pants, now that his own party tried to lynch him, finally rang up Kamala Harris to congratulate her on absolutely schooling his craven, bottom-feeding ass. Then he went back to checking around every corner to make sure there wasn’t a mob of his former supporters waiting to murder him, which is how he’ll spend the rest of his shitty, misbegotten life. Hee.

The National Rifle Association announced it will file for bankruptcy, as plummeting donations can no longer keep up with Wayne LaPierre’s extravagant lifestyle. An office liquidation sale will begin Monday morning, if you’d like to pry any lightly-used computer monitors from their cold, dead hands.

So I guess the MyPillow Guy is still trying to overthrow the US government? Yeah, got himself an Oval Office meeting n’ everything, to encourage Gameshow Göring to take one last stab at destroying American democracy, so I figure it’s about 50/50 that Lindell’s Legion of Losers marches on the inauguration, armed with sporks and zip ties and knockoff memory foam, perhaps unaware of the National Guard’s shiny new rules of engagement, and wouldn’t that be a shame?

Well. Kinda light tonight, but that’s enough for now, I suppose. Hey, in a few days, you won’t have to worry about crazed bedding salesmen talking the President into civil war. That’s gonna be pretty sweet. Until then, stay safe out there, Resisters... 

Dear Republicans, Repeat After Me: "Consequences Are Not Kristallnacht." (F/SC)

I confess it’s difficult to write today. I live next door to Vlad Putin, y’see, and he kept me up all night tap-dancing with glee at how easy it was to transform the United States of America from a superpower into a shithole, simply by tossing a few memes at frightened old white people.

(GIT IT with links here: http://showercapblog.com/dear-republicans-repeat-after-me-consequences-are-not-kristallnacht/)

Actually, at the request of the handful of congressional Republicans who’ve spoken at all about the terrorist mob they unleashed, I have decided to move on, in the spirit of unity and healing. Tonight’s blog will feature a series of softball interviews with prominent seditionists: admit it, you’ve always wondered who Mo Brooks’ favorite Golden Girl is.

Just to get this out of the way real quick, we’ve learned Government Cheese Goebbels made yet another desperate phone call, pressuring Georgia election officials to overturn the state’s results, and also that he forced the U.S Attorney for the Northern District of Georgia to resign for refusing to support his insidious voter fraud lies. Yes, I realize that’s two more completely impeachable crimes right there, but such frivolities constitute mere background noise in this age of violent white nationalist insurrection.

Well, I suppose we'd best start piecing together just what the living fuck went down on January 6th. It’s gonna take some time to separate the mere incompetents from the active collaborators, and won’t that be a jolly little process to witness?

It’s certainly been nothing short of terrifying, reading about the Trump Admin officials who dithered and dodged, refusing to dispatch the National Guard, even as a bloodthirsty horde ran wild through the Capitol. Almost as chilling as learning Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot himself just...watched the whole thing play out on the magical talking television box, no doubt cheering the would-be murderers on.

Two Capitol Police officers have been suspended and more than ten are already under investigation for their actions during the coup attempt, ranging from snapping seditious selfies to actively directing the terrorists to their targets. There’s apparently even a Secret Service officer out there, spreading Trump’s poisonous propaganda on social media, which strikes me as a teensy bit disqualifying for a gig with the administration to come. What would be cool is if American law enforcement could use this tragic moment to root out all the motherfucking white supremacists who have infiltrated their ranks.

For now, we’ll have to tide ourselves over with the admittedly bountiful buffet of treasonous shitweasel arrests; I’m sure the memory of those few precious hours of MAGA celebrity will keep ‘em warm through the long lonely nights of their federal prison sentences. For one shining moment, you held a lectern that didn’t belong to you. Cool life, bro.

So it looks as though Lauren Boebert launched her congressional career by using social media during the Capitol siege, against the direct instructions of the House Sergeant at Arms, to deliberately reveal Speaker Pelosi’s whereabouts to the homicidal throng, y’know, so it’d be easier to find her and execute her. Just a little perspective, for anybody out there who feels like they have weird tension with people at work.

Anyway, we’ve got shiny new metal detectors set up outside the House chamber now, to protect Democrats from the likes of Boebert, who has repeatedly vowed to illegally bring her gun to work with her, and the other QAnon loons in her caucus. Suddenly I find myself whimsically nostalgic for the bygone days of civility when the manic Republican outlier was the guy who couldn’t sit through a Black President’s speech without screaming at him.

Sadly, we’ve learned The Legend of the Loser Terrorist Who Tased Himself in the Scrotum So Hard He Died proved to be just that, a legend. To which I say, fuck all y’all, if you nutcases are allowed to believe fake shit (like, for example, that Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops is “the most masculine person to ever hold the White House”), I’m allowed to believe this, and in fact, I’m building my entire personal religion around it; we’re gonna have communion wafers in the shape of a doughy middle-aged man electrocuting his own ballsack.

The Velveeta Vulgarian petulantly refused to lower flags on federal buildings to half-staff in honor of the police officer he got killed, for four fucking days. But when wingnut financier Sheldon Adelson finally kicked the bucket? That statement, overflowing with the sort of glowing praise Eric and Don, Jr. can only dream of, hit the wire at the speed of light.

Three Democratic Congressmen (so far) have tested positive for COVID-19 after several Republicans mockingly refused all requests to wear masks during the siege lockdown. (thousands still dying every day, thanks for asking) In the spirit of unity, Minority Leader McCarthy has proposed a rule change where members of his caucus would commit to restricting themselves to one attempt to murder their Dem colleagues at a time.

From the folks who never quite managed to bring you Infrastructure Week, it’s CONSEQUENCES WEEK! Corporations are not only shutting down the coup enablers’ access to the money spigot, they’re even demanding refunds for previous donations. Harvard booted Trumpal Butt Remora Elise Stefanik from their advisory board. From coast to coast, hometown papers and local leaders are calling for the Cop Killer Caucus’ resignations. Keep the heat on, Resisters, and who knows? Maybe we can chase a few of the rats back to the shadows.

Heck, Rudy Giuliani’s a regular cousin-fucking consequences magnet these days. The New York State Bar Association is working to expel him, he’s been referred for disbarment, and the Treasury Department is cracking down on his crooked foreign partners. Congrats, Rudy...may all your future biographies be printed in liquid shit.

All of this comeuppance has, of course, led to a wave of reflection and contrition among Trump-supporting Republicans, assuming “reflection” and “contrition” are synonyms for “whining.” There is truly no amount of blood that can drown the 21st-century conservative impulse to claim victimhood, even when they’ve got their boot on somebody else’s neck.

These shameless jagoffs are actually trying to change the subject from the inevitable fruits of their deliberate, years-long stochastic terror campaign to their alleged oppression online. Several actually invoked Kristallnacht to describe their plight, which is so stomach-churningly vulgar, I can’t even joke about it.

Just to clear things up: the President lost his social media accounts because he used them to incite a sweaty, malodorous wad of losers to ooze down the street and kill his enemies for him. Parler got taken down because terrorists were using it to organize terrorist violence. Whatever point in the great wide universe is mathematically farthest from legitimate victimhood is where y’all are standing right now. At long last, just SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Meanwhile, the deeply pathetic new Shart House tradition of awarding the Presidential Medal of Freedom behind closed doors, lest the world witness the shame of all involved, continued. Gym Jordan, unsurprisingly, was only too willing to accept his blood-soaked accolade, but apparently they’ve gone too far for Bill Belichick, which means (insert pro- or anti-Belichick gag here, depending on your feelings towards the Patriots. Me, I don’t give a fuck either way, and I’m not losing any readers over that shit.)

Acting But Mostly Illegally So Who Knows Secretary Chad Wolf suddenly stepped down, so the Department of Homeland Security is currently being run by a waffle iron that’s been in the break room since Janet Napolitano forget it back in 2013. It’s okay, it’s not like we’re in the middle of a terrorist insurgency or anything.

Some deranged little Trumpkin appears to have actually carved his Turd Emperor’s name into a live manatee, and...what the fuck, y’all? This whole worldview seems to be built around the idea of injecting maximum shittiness into any situation, which apparently extends to vandalizing animals. Even Chuck Todd couldn’t bothsides this. (But please don’t bring it to his attention, or he’ll try.)

I guess Princess Ivanka is worried about her political future, now that her family name is synonymous with not just stealing from charity and stiffing contractors and bribing porn stars and caging children and praising white nationalists and doing Putin’s bidding and destroying jobs and pardoning war criminals but also crazed, violent rioting. Y’know what? Don’t spoil it for her; it’ll be more fun when she finds out on her own.

Tragically, I lost my very last mouthful of delicious Xmas ale to the headline proclaiming a “rift” had opened between Vice President Mike Pants and the man who sent a rabid mob to lynch him. Yes, Tangerine Idi Amin allegedly told his longtime servile sidekick, “I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” quite possibly the first honest statement he’s made in years. Yeah, “rift” just about covers it.

Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo keeps trying to squeeze as much last-minute fuckery as possible into his tenure, haphazardly slapping the “terrorist group” designation on the Houthi rebels in Yemen, exacerbating one of the world’s most appalling humanitarian crises, because a few more starving children are surely a small price to pay for the opportunity to drop a little extra shit in your Democratic successor’s inbox. Remember this the next time the pious Mr. Pompeo feels the need to lecture others on family values.

As a fitting reward for his years of goonish devotion to a dimestore autocrat, Mike was forced to cancel his final European trip as Secretary of State, because no one was willing to even meet with his cheap gangster ass. Obviously you’re the feared and respected representative of a global superpower when the foreign minister of frickin’ LUXEMBOURG cold-shoulders you. Tell us more about “swagger,” kid.

And I see Consequences Week also caught up to former Michigan Governor Rick Snyder and his toadies, who will face charges for their murderous mismanagement of the Flint water crisis. Say, you don’t suppose we actually live in a country where rich white dudes can’t get away with absolutely anything, do ya?

Anyway, buckle up, cats n’ kittens, we’re heading for fresh new round of impeachment, this time with bipartisan backing. Shit, even Mitch “Got My Judges, What Fucking Good Are You Now?” McConnell seems to be down. Liz Cheney, welcome to the resistance; no, you may not partake of the donuts or the coffee, those are for folks who didn’t need to be menaced by a mass of homicidal maniacs to stand up for what’s right. You may vote with the decent folks this one time, though.

I am worn the fuck out, y’all. It’s almost Joe o’clock, and I cannot fucking wait. Until then, stay safe out there, friends, it’s all kindsa weird. 

Josh Hawley and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Fascist Coup Attempt (F/SC)

You think I could get away with the “I almost didn’t blog, the news was so slow” gag tonight? Like, I could write this super long paragraph about the Indians/Mets trade, really milk it, but ho hum, “otherwise it was pretty quiet out there” or some shit? Personally, I think I’ve beaten that gag to death, but I figured it was worth a try.

(Get this post with links, and there’s loads of ‘em tonight, at http://showercapblog.com/josh-hawley-and-the-terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-fascist-coup-attempt/)

Still, I suppose we really ought to discuss that thing where the President of the United States incited a fascist mob to storm the Capitol, attempt to kidnap and execute some of the highest-ranking elected officials in the land, and overthrow the American government on his behalf. Check out that Mets trade when you get a chance, though.

It all started innocently enough, with shiny new freshman Republican Congressthug Mary Miller introducing herself on the national scene with a hearty “Hitler was right” speech. That Miller was not promptly deposited on the very next bus back to the Illinois 15th tells you enough about the state of the GOP in 2021 that nothing that would follow should surprise you.

Mary’s pretty lucky, actually, because her Hitler-praising never really even made it to the front page, what with the aforementioned Mets trade, and also probably the violent coup thing.

About that. What do you even say? A mob of the shittiest losers scraped from the floors of America’s filthiest public restrooms, radicalized by the frankly silly lies of a farcically transparent con man and his cynical enablers, gathered in Washington, D.C., with murderous intentions. Many wore silly costumes, because everything Donald Trump does has to be stupid as well as dangerous.

A series of seditious speakers, including Mo Brooks and Gameshow Göring himself, (and Rudy Giuliani, who pulled out of his cousin just long enough to demand “trial by combat”) riled them up further, until, in a state of raging entitlement, they marched on the Capitol, where they quickly overwhelmed criminally understaffed law enforcement, invading the building where Congress was in the process of certifying the Electoral College vote, forcing historians to hastily add asterisks to encyclopedia entries on the final downfall of Nazism.

When the U.S. President looked upon this howling insurgent mob, who injured 56 police officers and murdered one, he told them, “we love you, you’re very special,” which is nicer than anything he’s ever said to Tiffany.

So Twitter n’ Facebook finally put the fucker in time-out, because he was enthusiastically cheerleading an active terror attack on Congress in session, and also to prevent him from using social media to organize further sectarian violence. As one does in this, our extremely first-world nation.

Meanwhile, the terrorist swarm, chock full of known white supremacist agitators, armed with bats and zip ties and god knows what else (shoutout to the guy who drove all the way up from Alabama only to leave his ELEVEN MOLOTOV COCKTAILS in the truck) roamed the halls, searching for Congressfolk to kidnap and kill. Many allegedly sought to murder Mike Pence, recently excommunicated from Cult45 for refusing to go along with Louie Gohmert’s deeply stupid plan to steal the presidency by sneaking it out of the building under the Vice President’s coat.

D.C. Police Chief Robert Contee actually had the sack to claim that there was “no intelligence” that something like this would happen, a lie so preposterous even the Dotard himself is like, “Layin’ it on a little thick there, huh, Bob?” because the “intelligence” has been all over the web, for weeks, in the form of extremely public planning conducted openly on social media. Just a heads up, they’re plotting a few more rounds of this shit, in case anybody feels like doing their job going forward.

Word is, Minority Leader McCarthy, during the siege, begged his Turd Emperor to call off his rabid supporters, but Hairplug Himmler refused, abandoning his loyal stooge to literally die in a violent insurrection, but damned if Kev didn’t immediately re-staple his lips to that butt the very moment he was safe again. Does Donald Trump’s ass secrete some sort of addictive chemical? I’m really asking.

Anyway, once the terrorist throng was finally cleared from the halls of Congress (after pissing and shitting all over everything like animals), the House GOP immediately acquiesced to their every demand, moving right along with their bullshit “challenge” to the election results, because learning from your mistakes, even when you have literally just unleashed horrifying mob violence on your very own workplace, is, apparently, for cucks.

Of course, the fantastic news is that the Dunderhead Revolt failed spectacularly; (and how could it do anything else, considering the parties involved?) all they managed to accomplish was delaying the certification a few hours, forcing the shitty, decrepit white dudes who represent them to stay up past their bedtimes, officially acknowledging the restaurant-quality ass-kicking Joe Biden administered to their Skidmark Messiah last November. Nice work, losers.   

At that point, this dark episode in American history reverted pretty quickly from constitutional crisis to the more comfortable and familiar Morons Rubbing Shit In Their Own Hair Show that we’ve grown accustomed to. Right wing media, ever ready to gaslight their audience, which craves gaslighting like Paula Dean craves hot buttery racism, figured they could always just blame the whole thing on antifa, but the Dipshit Confederacy wasn’t having any of that, they wanted credit for their felonies, dagnabbit!

...not that tracking any of them down would prove difficult anyway, on account of the way they live-streamed their federal crimes on social media. And took selfies. And paraded, maskless, before the Capitol’s rather substantial security camera collection. There’s really no amount of self-destruction that can force these clowns to abandon their “cultural” rejection of mask-wearing during this public health crisis, is there? Well. Enjoy prison.

Cuz the harsh light of a new day brought, as it is wont to do, a great big fuckin’ bucket of consequences. How quickly the LOCK HER UP crowd devolves into blubbering, “forgive me, I made a mistake, I only treasoned on accident!” One minute, you’re scratching your balls in Speaker Pelosi’s chair, the next, you’re in prison. And the next. And the next. And the next...

I’m really getting a kick out of this sudden wave of May As Well Take My Vacation Days “principled resignations,” too. Does Elaine Chao truly envision a misty-eyed standing ovation for her years-late, community-theatre-worthy show of “bravery?” Betsy DeVos imagines there’s some sort of virtuous stand still available to Betsy DeVos at this late date? That’s honestly adorable.

In the midst of a week where he tried to overthrow the government and have his own Vice President murdered, President Crotchrot somehow still found the mental space to muse OH YEAH GOTTA MAKE TIME DURING THIS SEDITIOUS PSYCHOTIC EPISODE TO FORCE CELEBRITIES TAKE PICTURES WITH ME ONE LAST TIME and so he gave some medals to some golfers, one of whom I understand is deceased. We need to make sure this warped, soggy brain gets left to science, is all I’m saying.

It’s possible I will never stop laughing at Josh Hawley, who finally took the plunge into full-on focus-group fascism ten minutes before Donald Trump transformed himself into American Bin Laden. Son, if you weren’t able to piece together on your own that the moment for your treacherous lil’ pageant passed while police officers were bleeding and dying to protect you from the consequences of your own recklessness, I just don’t think leadership is your calling.

Yeah, Josh jumped (and Ted Cruz jumped after him, let’s spare a belly laugh or twelve for that) straight into a steaming pile of comeuppance, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer fascist. Allies and donors are fleeing, home state newspapers are demanding resignation, his book deal got Milo’d, and there’s still the judgment of history to come. Tee fucking hee.

Hawley and Cruz are getting the headlines (and the calls to resign from Senate colleagues) but we shouldn’t overlook the backbench co-conspirators, if you ask me. We’re gonna run against Tommy Tuberville in 2026 reminding voters that he sided with terrorists attempting to overthrow the government on his VERY FIRST WEEK, and they’re gonna re-elect him anyway, aren’t they?

And now Republicans are whining (story at 11, right?) that another impeachment would be “divisive.” Well, I think we need a little division at this point. We need to divide the violent lunatics and those who incite them from polite society, and certainly from our fucking politics. If we don’t do that, Wednesday’s debacle will simply be the first chapter of a very long book that will suck to read, and suck much, much harder to live through. I’m sorry that y’all made these maniacs such an important part of your electoral coalition; that was a bad decision on your end.

As you process the week’s tragedies, spare a tear for the poor, loyal Shart House staffers, who are suddenly worried about how “shuffled paperwork for a terrorist insurrection” is going to look on a resumé. Now, I’m a compassionate guy; if times ever get truly tough for these poor lackeys, I have plenty of shit they can eat.

But y’know somethin’?  A thousand years ago, when I was wrapping up my last blog, the first results of the Georgia Senate runoffs were just starting to trickle in. For all the horrible shit the country has been through these last few years, we just installed, in two seats the Republican Party has come to view as personal property, a young, liberal, Jewish filmmaker, and the Pastor at Martin Luther King Jr.’s church, the first Black Senator in Georgia history. And in doing so, swung the whole dang Senate into Chuck Schumer’s lovin’ arms.

I know dozens, if not hundreds of you reading this right now donated to those campaigns. Made calls. Knocked on doors. Sent postcards. In a week that’s seen some deeply fucked up notions about the meaning of patriotism, we came together to accomplish something wonderful for our country. Something that changed the course of history, pried power out of Mitch McConnell’s abusive hands, and gave the incoming administration a fighting chance to do some much-needed good. I thank you for it.

Things’re pretty intense right now. The House is looking to impeach the motherfucker again (for incitement of insurrection, which, y’know...is objectively how the guy spent his Wednesday) as early as Monday. Lisa Murkowski is threatening to leave the Republican Party. And the Mets and the Indians made a really big trade (Shazam!).

ANYWAY, soooooooooo yeah. Congratulations, you are officially living through the United States of America’s first ever non-peaceful transfer of power. There should be a challenge coin, don’tcha think?

Oh, incidentally, COVID-19 broke the 4,000-American-deaths-in-one-day barrier, and the worst is still to come. Everything is awful. Everything. I’m sorry. Seriously. What the fuck.

Hey, it’s been a nonstop batguano tornado this week, and I am 100% sure I missed a bunch of details, for which I beg your forgiveness. JESUS CHRIST THE DODDERING FUCK JUST GOT PERMANENTLY SUSPENDED FROM TWITTER, CAN’T YOU GUYS SEE I’M TRYING TO WRITE A CONCLUDING PARAGRAPH? 

It never stops. But I have to, for now. I’m tired. And my HBO Max free trial period ends tomorrow. The sitting President of the United States has been banned from Twitter for inciting violence, “may you live in interesting times,” FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOU 

This Week in Hell: Everything is Stupid and Dangerous and I Hate It (Yay Georgia Though)

I spend way too much time these days watching choosy Republicans choose fascism, for reasons that are awful and terrifying, of course, but also SO FUCKING DUMB. Like, I get the authoritarianism thing, but wouldn’t you rather be ground beneath the jackboot of a despot who’s actually capable of dressing himself? Fuck.

(As always, get this post with nifty news links here: http://showercapblog.com/this-week-in-hell-everything-is-stupid-and-dangerous-and-i-hate-it/)

Oh well. May as well chronicle this shit while we wait for the Georgia runoff results to trickle in...

We all knew that once Josh Hawley popped the Senate GOP’s totalitarian meltdown cherry, a tidal wave of perfidious sycophancy was sure to follow, and who better to surf it than Rafael Edward Cruz, with his Peter Parker-like sixth sense for detecting the precise moment his Turd Emperor’s boots require licking? Ted got together with some freedom-loathing chums to write a little letter. It is a very bad letter, full of lies, and Ted should feel bad, because he’s assaulting American democracy, which is a jaggy thing to do.

Ted’s debasing himself for nothing, of course, (seems to be his kink, frankly; nothing else explains that shitty beard) because apparently they don’t teach you at Harvard Law that a toxic rage cult will never in a million years rally around a worm who turned lackey for the guy who publicly disparaged his wife and father. All the work you did, Ted, riling up the crazies in the base, and Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot just yanked ‘em out from underneath ya. I’d ask how it feels to watch a cheap crook effortlessly steal your entire life’s work, but that would involve conversing with you, which strikes me as unpleasant.

I’m writing this on Tuesday night, and the dipshit Republican plot to steal the federal government from the American people is still on the schedule for tomorrow; wear something slutty. Cool of this new House GOP caucus to break their oaths immediately upon swearing them; now we don’t need to waste any time pretending this anti-democratic mob is operating in good faith.

Of course, the question on everybody’s mind tonight is, “precisely how many violent maniacs will answer the President’s call tomorrow, and how much thuggish fuckery will they perpetrate in his name?” because everything is good n’ normal in this, our extremely healthy modern democracy.

Remember when Ohio Governor Mike DeWine was held up as one of the rational, “decent” Republicans? Well, over the last few days he not only parroted Hairplug Himmler’s dangerous voter fraud lies, he signed a new stand your ground law, as well as a truly demented lil’ piece of legislation designed to inflict financial penalties and emotional trauma on women exercising their constitutional right to abortion. Yeah, that’s what moderate, compassionate conservatism looks like these days.

Far from the radical, DeWinean fringe, Nebraska Governor Pete Ricketts announced that the undocumented immigrants who make up a significant chunk of his state’s meatpacking workforce will not be eligible to receive the COVID-19 vaccine, because white supremacy is just so dang important to him that he’s only too happy to sacrifice a few more of his constituents’ lives on its altar.

In a sea of idiotically treacherous lawsuits asking the courts to pretty please throw democracy away forever, Louie Gohmert’s was the dumbest (fella has a reputation to protect, y’know). A quick reminder, for those whose post-election scorecards are an illegible collage of bat guano and right wing gobbledygook by now, Louie proposed replacing the boring ol’ “American citizens select their leaders” system with one where Vice President Pence gets to hand-select which votes count, and when the judge wouldn’t bite, Louie called for violence in the streets, exactly like a Nazi would. I bet Xmases at the Gohmert household were...challenging.

At the risk of offering advice to the enemy: Republicans, you should make Brad Raffensperger your king, because he seems to be the only member of your generally browbeaten party who understands what Donald J. Trump (the “J” stands for “I’d sell my own mother into slavery for a better seat on a five-minute bus ride”) actually is.

Brad, it seems, has witnessed enough defenestrations to know better than to slip dutifully into the line for the penthouse. Utilizing what suddenly seems like extremely basic common sense, (clearly not a conservative value these days) he recorded his phone call with Gameshow Göring, gifting himself a nifty little insurance policy against the inevitable wave of angry tweets once he refused to commit honey bunches of unlikely-to-succeed felonies on behalf of a floundering would-be dictator.

The call itself is fucking fabulous, providing a front-row seat as the Shart of the Deal demonstrates his legendary negotiating prowess. That walnut-sized brain simply cannot process how anyone could possibly stand up to his withering Repeat a Lie Several Times at Varying Volumes tactic; it always works on Mike Pompeo. The empty threats are pretty great, too, but it’s the BEGGING I like best. Real Wormtongue-level groveling, and I looooooooove it when we get to see what a whimpering slug Mr. Strongman truly is at heart. Cool cult of personality you got there, MAGA nation.

Devin “Pigfucker” Nunes has officially been voted Most Likely to Pawn the Presidential Medal of Freedom For Bail Money, because Boss Shart figures further defiling the nation’s highest civilian honor is cheaper than sending his most loyal stooges holiday fruit baskets. Gym Jordan’s getting one, too, and I guess if you value the esteem of the shittiest man alive, you’re welcome to it.

And of course, nothing shrieks Healthy-Ass Democracy quite like every living former Secretary of Defense joining hands to sing in one voice Kumbaya Also Everybody Back at the Ol’ Pentagon Knows Not to Follow Any Unconstitutional Orders, Right? While I’ve grown accustomed to the strangeness of my bedfellows over the last four years, (sometimes Bill Kristol is the big spoon, sometimes it’s me) I was unprepared emotionally for this PREACH, DICK CHENEY moment. Presumably, after an indeterminate number of showers, I will someday feel clean again.

Team Treasonweasel is somehow still finding innovative new ways to lose in court, though the last lingering legal dingleberries are so far down the Sidney Powell/Lin Wood wackadoo rabbit hole that Rudy’s gibbering rant behind Four Seasons Total Landscaping suddenly seems like oration worthy of Daniel Webster in comparison. One judge even threatened the lawyers who filed one of these maliciously frivolous (malivolous?) suits with discipline; I predict punishing these seditious freaks will be a helluva lot more fun than listening to ‘em.

I see Republicans in the Pennsylvania State Senate got ahold of Grandpa Goebbels’ keys and decided to take authoritarianism out for a little joyride, refusing to seat Democratic Senator Jim Brewster, though his win has been certified and upheld by the state Supreme Court, because apparently, they’re not quite done digging for some shabby new loophole to thwart the will of the electorate. Personally, I think the GOP is hitting this whole “we despise democracy and want to destroy it” thing a little too hard; it’s getting repetitive and obnoxious, if I’m honest. Try mixing in a little love of country now and then, just for variety’s sake.

Anyway, be sure to do some stretching before bed tonight, you don’t want to injure yourself laughing at Mike Pants’ overdue comeuppance tomorrow. Thought you were gonna emerge from this sewer spotless and rose-scented, didn’tcha, Mikey? Keep your head down, kiss that ass daily, and inherit the cult, easy-peezy, right? Four years of loading up your faux evangelical soul with sin upon sin, and they’ll still despise you as a traitor forever, all because Wee Donnie Dotard bought into something stupid he saw on Parler. Live by the misinformed hate cult, die by the misinformed hate cult, you turd-hearted crotchfungus.

I bet there’s gonna be tons more stupid, dangerous shit going down this week, so I’m gonna go rest up in anticipation. No I’m not. I’m gonna stay up all night drinking and refreshing the goddamn needle. That counts as rest, right? 

Hmmmmm...actually, this night might not run as late as I thought... 

Is Josh Hawley America's Next Top Fascist? Tune in to Find Out! (F/SC)

Ah, who doesn’t love the promise of a brand new year, particularly one in which the likelihood of the American President tear-gassing peaceful protesters in front of the White House is set to drop so dramatically? ‘Course, you knew 2020 wasn’t gonna let us go without dumping one last steaming bowlful on our heads, right?

(Got links if you want ‘em: http://showercapblog.com/is-josh-hawley-americas-next-top-fascist-tune-in-to-find-out/)

Louisiana Congressman-elect Luke Letlow died of COVID-19, and much to my surprise, many of the very same voices who have been minimizing this crisis for months, spreading disease and death throughout the land while the rest of us made daily sacrifices to protect our loved ones, expect me to treat this dude’s death as some sort of tragedy.

It is not, so I won’t. Let’s talk this through.

It seems Letlow was “inconsistent” when it came to behaving with a minimal amount of responsibility during this deadly pandemic; he campaigned with his mask and observed social distancing when he felt like it, but not when he didn’t; a distinction the coronavirus oddly felt no compulsion to acknowledge. Seems he held a maskless “victory party” a couple weeks before his diagnosis, which is precisely the sort of thing we’ve all known, for months, is how the motherfucking virus has been spreading. It’s not a secret. IT’S WHY SO MANY OF US ARE FUCKING DYING.

The people who have been pulling shit like holding maskless victory parties are not victims of fate’s random whims; they are willful perpetrators of crimes against the responsible majority.

The officials of the Trumpified GOP, through their entirely voluntary choice to spread insidious disinformation about a public health crisis, are directly, inescapably RESPONSIBLE for the resultant human carnage. And these people did not spill wine on the carpet. They got hundreds of thousands of people killed. If you accomplish that with mustard gas, you’re a war criminal. Do it with Tucker Carlson retweets, you’re a Republican Congressman.

Yes, mask-wearing and social distancing have, thanks to the madness that’s taken hold of the American right, become partisan. That doesn’t mean the issue should be treated like any other polite political disagreement, like we’re bickering about the capital gains tax rate; this party’s governing policy has been, from the beginning, Never Stop Lying No Matter How High the Bodies Pile Up, and that policy is nowhere near done claiming lives. These lies are killing people today. Right now.

“Aw, garsh, he had kids, Cap.” Fuck him. SO MANY OF THESE BASTARDS’ VICTIMS HAD KIDS. What about the children of all the frontline health care workers who died treating these selfish pricks?

See, that’s tragic. What the Republican Party, indisputably including Luke Letlow, has done in deceiving the public about a public health emergency for political gain is monstrous. It is one of the most evil things I have witnessed in my lifetime. So, a handful of this malicious scheme’s ringleaders paid the same price they happily inflicted on countless disposable serfs? I mean, I’ll mourn, sure, but get in line. There’s about, oh, 350,000 folks in front of you, though.

If Donald Trump had contracted COVID-19 back in March, before all those fancy oligarchs-only experimental treatments had been developed, think of how many people would still be alive today. We are not having a political disagreement in this country right now, we are having deeply insane arguments (with absolute lunatics, by the way) about whether or not a human life matters.

Yikes. Sorry ‘bout that. Uh...back to yer regularly scheduled blog:

Brad Raffensperger doesn’t have a brother. I shouldn’t know that. I live in Chicago, there’s no reason to know the name of Georgia’s Secretary of State at all, let alone any details of said secretary’s family tree. But now Raffensperger’s brotherlessness is one of those bits of trivia forever etched into my brain, alongside George Brett’s 1980 batting average and the civilian identities of the West Coast Avengers.

And why? I’m glad you asked. You see, the President of the United States of America, in his ongoing assault on members of his own party who refuse to destroy the nation’s constitutional democracy on his behalf, used his awesome platform to spread a conspiracy theory that originated in the Porta Potty across the street from Fox where Hannity’s crew goes to snort bath salts on their lunch break, that Brad’s brother “works for China,” and is thus part of...I dunno, antifa? The deep state? Something really scary, I’m sure, especially for old white people. Anyway. No Raffensbrother, I’m sure Wee Don will get around to apologizing for the error, once he’s done attempting coups and whatnot.

I guess Josh Hawley got tired of gazing longingly through the department store window at that little red armband, and finally decided to take the plunge on the full fascist makeover he’s dreamt of for so long; I bet he even splurged on the jodhpurs. Hawley announced he would buck Senate leadership to back the House Rabid Trash-Engorged Possum Caucus’ treasonous plot to establish a perpetual American dictatorship under a game show host who somehow couldn’t figure out how to make money at the fucking casino business.

Of course, young Joshward knows this latest iteration of the Stoopid Coo is doomed to failure; he simply understands that no one ever went broke telling a white supremacist hate cult they’re victims of a conspiracy. He’s gambling the path to the GOP presidential nomination lies in offering Cult45 not bold solutions to their problems, but an unceasing supply of rage and deceit to feed their resentments.

And that’s a dark and cynical wager, friends, but if you sat down tonight to write an article about Hawley and Tom Cotton holding dueling Klan rallies to overflow crowds in Iowa while Larry Hogan delivers a heartfelt lament for bygone conservative values in a nearly empty private living room six blocks away, I bet you could publish it, without edits, in the New York Times on about, oh say June 23rd, 2023.

Senate Majority Leader Mitch “You peasants can eat my gravelly turtle droppings” McConnell unilaterally blocked the popular, bipartisan House bill raising coronavirus stimulus checks from $600 to $2000, offering as an excuse some horseshit attempting to paint Democrats as favoring “socialism for rich people,” I couldn’t quite make it out, as it was delivered from atop the enormous stack of money Yertle made from the massive tax cut he gave himself a couple years back.

Kelly Loeffler’s new single, “Whoops, I Posed with a Klansman Again (Which is But One of Many Ways in Which I Am Trash)” feat. Lil’ Plutocrat debuted on Fux Nooz, thanks to Jon Ossoff, recent graduate of the Pete Buttigieg School of Keep Giving Me a Platform and I’ll Keep Kickin’ Y’all in the Nards.

David Perdue was supposed to attend Kelly’s release party, but he couldn’t make it cuz he’s quarantining following exposure to Covid, yes, in the very last week before a potentially career-ending runoff election, just as a devastating NYT deep dive into his lengthy history of outsourcing American jobs dropped, and I’m really hoping the rule of threes kicks in here, on about, say, this coming Tuesday or so?

Checking in real quick with my new favorite maniac, L. Lin Wood apparently believes he’s the second coming of Christ, and also that Jeffrey Epstein is alive and well and running a pedophile adoption agency for Supreme Court Justices, and I mean, not if you split five pounds of meth between half a dozen monkeys and made them play Mad Libs could you come up a more perfect nugget of raw wingnut batshitery than that.

You’ve probably heard by now, but yeah, the Treasonweasel Administration has managed to royally fuck up the coronavirus vaccine rollout, wildly missing even their own ineptitude-adjusted Cut Us Some Slack We Couldn’t Handle a Goddamn Easter Egg Roll targets. Not that anybody asked me, but I think the very last people to get vaccinated should be any turd-gobbling oligarch bootlickers who still think government should be run like a motherfucking business.

I see Donnie Dotard cut his New Year’s plans short, because he truly seems to believe Hawley and his House Hooligans’ lame bit of political treachery theatre is designed to actually keep him in power rather than merely earn a glowing tweet or two. (I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Donald Trump is a very stupid man) He’s called his Loser Legions to D.C. for the January 6th Electoral College certification in Congress, hoping they’ll riot in support of their Grand Wizard of Grievance. The turnout will be humiliatingly minuscule of course, but I for one have grown rather weary of watching All the President’s Brownshirts prowling the streets of the nation’s capital, thirsty for violence.

Well, the Senate joined the House in overriding the Velveeta Vulgarian’s veto of the defense bill, marking the 219th course of his post-election failure binge. Hope you saved room for dessert, fuckhead.

Ok, that’s enough madness for one week, methinks. Let’s get Warnock and Ossoff over the finish line, stamp out the Hawley Plot, and get back to drinking. Stay safe out there, Resisters... 
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