Well, Happy Thanksgiving, Resisters! This year I find myself shockingly appreciative for the absence of an initiated-by-a-pissing-contest-between-the-two-least-secure-men-on-the-planet nuclear war, so I’ll give thanks for that, and for Special Counsel Bob Mueller and his team.

Let’s get the madness out of the way so we can enjoy all the traditional thanksgiving foods, except maybe yams, which seem somehow sinister this year.

Naturally, Donnie Two-Scoops couldn’t get through a simple turkey-pardoning ceremony without his pathetic obsession with his predecessor surfacing. He then retreated to the Oval Office, pulled out the portrait of Obama he keeps in the top drawer of his desk, and attempted to flog himself, but his tiny, tiny hands couldn’t wrap around the flail.

The Shart’s FCC chairman, Amit Pai, unveiled his plan to kick net neutrality in the junk, give it a wedgie, and steal its lunch money. I dunno. I think the problem’s probably overblown a bit. When have corporations ever worked against the interests of their consumers? And why do crowbar-wielding Pinkertons turn up at my door every time I try accessing Consumer Reports now?

Moving over to the State Department…y’know what, let me just quote this in its entirety:

“A group of about a dozen U.S. State Department officials have taken the unusual step of formally accusing Secretary of State Rex Tillerson of violating a federal law designed to stop foreign militaries from enlisting child soldiers, according to internal documents reviewed by Reuters.”

WHAT THE LIVING FUCK?!?!? Look, I know that, despite our fantasies regarding our nation’s goodness, the United States doesn’t always wear the white hat, but surely we can do better than “Aw shucks, what’re a few child soldiers between friends?” Right?

RIGHT?

Remember, Low-T Rex said he only took the SoS job, which he is tragically unqualified for, because his wife said “God” wanted him to. You might wanna check in with this “God” fellah sometime, I don’t think he’s super into child soldiers.

Or maybe this is the same “God” that told Michele Bachmann and Rick Santorum to run for the President, in which case you’ve confused “God” with an otherworldly prankster, some sort of cosmic Johnny Knoxville.

And Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet apparently wants to appoint a political hack with no experience to run the census, just another one of those things that would have been a front page scandal under any other President, but which barely registers at all in the eye of the shitstorm we endure every single motherfucking day now.

I guess Paul Manafort, and his shitty little sidekick, Rick Gates, have been granted conditional release from house arrest to attend Thanksgiving festivities. They have to tell the court where they’re going, and they’re not allowed to remove their ankle bracelets or drink booze. Plus they’ll be accompanied by an FBI agent who kidney punches them every hour on the hour.

Ok, I made that last part part up. But a guy can dream, can’t he?

In Potentially Really Awful News, Alaska’s Lisa Murkowski, a key vote in sinking the Pleb-Slaughtering Drumpfcare bill a few weeks back, wrote an op-ed expressing support for repealing the ACA’s individual mandate in the Republican tax “reform” bill.

That this would raise premiums for millions, steal insurance from millions more, and politically annihilate the GOP in 2018 seems lost on Senator Murkowski. Hey, if anybody reading this knows anybody in Alaska…for real, pester them to pester their Senator. Lives are on the line, folks.

Speaking of the tax bill, the Tax Policy Center says this conservative monstrosity could reduce charitable giving by between 12 and 20 billion dollars, just in 2018. Neat. We really are remaking the whole country in the image of our shitty grifter first family. Maybe we can carve out a deduction for purchasing paintings of yourself.

This whole Roy Moore thing is like an Adam Sandler movie; you sort of futilely hope it won’t keep getting worse, but you know better.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when we heard from a police officer telling stories of being specifically assigned to keep Roy “I am a grown ass man in his thirties” Moore away from the cheerleaders at high school football games.

Hey, I don’t want to pass judgment on anybody, but if you need YOUR OWN PERSONAL COP TO KEEP YOU FROM SEXUALLY HARASSING HIGH SCHOOL CHEERLEADERS, you should seriously think about locking yourself in the basement forever.

Now, one of Roy’s “defenders” says the would-be Senator dated such girls because he was attracted to their “purity,” which I sincerely thought would be the grossest part of today’s post, but goddamn if another Republican didn’t top it. More on that in a minute (I’m saying this so you can get yourself a barf bag before scrolling down further.)

Naturally President Pussygrabber came to Moore’s defense. He said, of the surge in accusations of sexual assault, that “I’m very happy a lot of these things are coming out. I’m very happy it’s being exposed,” and that “Women are very special.”

Except for the 9 women who accused Moore of sexual assault. And the 16 women that accused Trump himself of sexual assault. Those women aren’t special, they are lying whores. Anyone who accuses Al Franken is special though. Basically, women are special if they accuse a a Democrat, but they’re filthy Jezebels if they accuse anyone in a MAGA hat.

With the recent avalanche of sexual assault accusations against powerful men in fields ranging from politics to journalism to entertainment, there’s this strange triumphal smugness from a certain corner of the right-wing Creeposphere, proclaiming vindication for the so-called “Pence Rule.” If you’ve forgotten, this is Mikey Hairshirt’s policy of refusing to ever be alone in a room with a woman. Some wingnuts claim this protects men from temptation, others say it’s a proactive defense against false accusations of sexual assault.

And, hey, if refusing one-on-one meetings with women permanently cuts half the population off from access to the halls of power, so be it, right? Most hilarious are the neanderthals treating Pencey-Poo like some sort of Sexual Politics Visionary, and not a seriously revolting pervert who fears his own sexual impulses and who is almost certainly wearing a WWI-era gas mask and fucking a can of cranberry sauce as you read this.

I guess John Kelly is doing all he can to diminish young Jared Kushner‘s “portfolio,” for the TOTAL CUCK REASON that he’s a blistering idiot who doesn’t know anything about anything. I dunno, General. If a red-blooded All-American boy who got rich by being a rich guy’s son can’t bring peace to the Middle East while simultaneously eliminating government waste and fixing the DC Comics cinematic universe, who can?

Just to season the injury with a little insult, Palestinian Authority chairman Mahmoud Abbas refused to take Jar-Jar’s call, because we’re past the point where anybody anywhere takes him seriously.

See where the government of the United States is selling Shartboy’s shitty wine in national park gift shops? I tell ya, for a dude who lacks even a passing interest in any of the issues an American President should be dealing with, Don the Con has hella tight grift game.

What next? Sarah Huckabee Sanders schilling crappy, well-done, streaks from the briefing room podium? A mini-Trump University at the Citadel? Rupert Murdoch buys Vogue in a frantic attempt to make too-long neckties stylish?

An ethics complaint has been filed against Kellyanne Conway, who quite clearly violated the Hatch Act with her statements about Roy Moore and Doug Jones in recent days. Amongst the emoluments violations and the treason and the mass deportations and Jeff Sessions throwing every non-white person he comes across into a private prison, Hatch Act violations seem kinda quaint, but hey, they nailed Al Capone on tax evasion, right?

Senator Tom Carper told CNN interviewers about President Spit Bucket at a Napa Valley Orange Crush Tasting calling in to a tax meeting, and babbling like a moron until the participants faked a bad connection to get him off the phone so the grown-ups could keep talking. Some details were disputed, but it mostly seems to be a matter of how polite Gary Cohn was in dismissing the Rambling Toddler in Chief.

And the Drumpf Organization backed out of their partnership in their SoHo hotel, the latest massive humiliating business failure for the dude who was elected President allegedly for being such a good businessman. The Shart of the Deal strikes again.

NBC reports one of Mike Flynn’s business partners is now being investigated by Bob Mueller and his team of investigators/lawyers/samurai warriors, serving as your casual reminder that, though it’s seemingly been normalized, HOLY SHIT THE NATIONAL SECURITY ADVISOR TO THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED FUCKING STATES WAS AN UNREGISTERED FOREIGN AGENT, with all the access to classified intel that implies.

As for Shartleby the Scrivener himself, well, he Twitter-yelled at some black people some more, and then he went golfing. His staff admitted he was going golfing, but then pretended he was doing Fancy Important Things Instead of Golfing, but everybody fucking knows that he just went golfing.

Hey, before we close out this holiday post, how would you like a little GOPEEN?

Representative Joe Barton is happy to oblige! Joe apparently had himself a relationship with a woman he imagined would partake of the sight of his nude, snowman-shrieking-in-horror-as-it-melts-in-the-sun pasty ol’ bod, and it would just make her goddamn day.

Anyway, it’s now a gift Barton has shared with the whole world, so if you want to get all Roman with your Thanksgiving dinner, find yerself a vomitorium*, whip out your pocket-Barton on your phone to induce purging, and go back for that third slice of pecan pie!

(Ugh. While I was putting tonight’s post together, I saw this Vanity Fair deep-dig into That One Time President Shartcannon Leaked Highly Classified Information to the Russians Right in the Oval Fucking Office. Remember that? Or is it one more detail lost in the daily bludgeoning?)

Well, that’s all I’ve got for tonight. Enjoy your meals and your families and your friends, Resisters. Be sure to drink all that booze Paul Manafort can’t have!

*Yes, I know the whole vomitorium thing isn’t real. Let a man have his jokes, wouldja?