The masks will not keep the madness out, my friends, so you needn’t even bother. We’re all infected with this insanity, there’s no escaping it, and I guess we’ll find out this November if it’s fucking fatal. Let’s round up the news, shall we?

The media lawsuits are piling up now, as the President of the United States has apparently chosen to fight the free press rather than the coronavirus, perhaps a less-than-ideal ordering of priorities for a public servant. Yes, the Velveeta Vulgarian is now suing CNN, WaPo AND the New York Times, a full frontal assault on the First Amendment by a would-be dictator seeking to crush dissent in his tiny, inadequate, fists; to support him is betray the foundational principles of American democracy, but hey, I bet you’ll get a stale cheeseburger out of it.

I see Hairplug Himmler’s pet slug, Devin “Pigfucker” Nunes, is getting in on the speech-stifling action with a lawsuit of his own, targeting the Post and a journalist working there, in addition to his previous legal actions against a cow on Twitter. I don’t know about y’all, but I’ll have six feet of dirt above my head before I let a gerbil turd like Nunes destroy the freedoms that made this country great long before Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops ever begged his dirtbag daddy for that first bailout. Gargle my ballsweat, Devin, you fascist worm.

Perhaps seeking to eclipse his own Biggest Scandal in American History record, President Crotchrot continues to, and even after three-plus years of this gibbering nitwit, I can’t believe I’m writing this, actively enable the spread of the coronavirus at every opportunity. Like, what the fuck is going on? Did Putin share the pee tape with the coronavirus? Did the coronavirus buy out his debt at Deutsche Bank? Because whether by downplaying the threat, or failing to provide anything resembling sufficient testing, it’s like he’s working for the damn disease, and working harder than he ever has for the American people.

Like, does anyone imagine that trotting out Larry Kudlow, the economic advisor who doesn’t even understand fucking economics, to proclaim the virus “contained,” will fool anybody? Or, y’know, actually contain the virus? Anyway, the Manchurian Manchild himself is simply waddling around, talking about infected folks skipping the whole tedious “doctor” thing altogether, and going to work! I suppose we should be thankful he’s not planning a prime time address from the Oval, telling Americans the whole thing is fake and we should all gather in large crowds tomorrow to just lick one another, right on the face, boy that’d sure own the fake news libs, wouldn’t it?

Of course, the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits seems to believe the pandemic will be a positive thing for the American economy, since folks will spend their money here rather than traveling abroad. I mean, we’re already hearing rumblings about an airline bailout, which can join the farmer bailouts on the list of Shart Garfunkel’s Entirely Avoidable Mistakes I Am Not At All Fucking Pleased To Be Paying For, but more importantly, WHAT THE LIVING FUCK? Y’know, fear-borne isolationism paired with a brain that could fit inside a walnut and still leave room for a walnut turns out to be a fairly shitty combination during times like these, but, to be perfectly fair, Her E-mails.

You really get to see the full might of that misfiring brain on display when he tries to claim the vaccine will be ready in a few short months. Doddering old fuck really imagines he’s pulling something clever there; look in his eyes, he actually thinks he’s fooling people. He is surely legitimately confused that his wily gambit failed to calm the markets. Oh well. We were all gonna die anyway; at least this way we don’t have to watch Jack White get old and start recording lame adult contemporary songs about his grandchildren.

The Treasonweasel Administration has added political litmus test questionnaires to applications for Shart House posts, to screen out anybody who might suffer from antiquated notions about serving the country and her Constitution rather than the Ostomy Bag With a Dead Tabby on Top currently squatting in the West Wing. I bet that’s a fun form. “If you could pick just one spot on the President’s ass to suckle, what would it be? Go ahead and assume the entire ass isn’t completely covered with the lips United States Senators, just for fantasy’s sake.”

Yes, competence is out and sycophancy is in over at the executive branch these days, and there’s no finer poster boy for the kakistocracy than former Nunes staffer and generally corrupt toady Michael Ellis, just named to an important post on the National Security Council. Yes, this is a dangerous politicization of the nation’s intelligence apparatus, and yes, this makes every one of us less safe, but on the bright side, the limeade I like was on sale at Target this week.

I didn’t follow this one closely, but I guess Chuck Schumer got all fucked up on Red Bull and cough syrup, and stood on John Roberts’ lawn at three in the morning, threatening to rip off the Chief Justice’s face off and wear it like a mask while pissing in his eye sockets or something, because the outrage coming off of Roberts and the rest of the GOP vastly eclipsed their response to any of Tangerine Idi Amin’s countless despicable acts, and surely they would never be so insincere as to hold their Democratic brethren to a different standard. Surely.

We learned a great deal on Super Tuesday, mostly that Texas Republicans really do not want minorities voting in their elections, which will no doubt shock Roberts, who famously proclaimed the Voting Rights Act was no longer necessary, since racism, like disco and the mullet, was a problem safely left behind in the dark ages of the 20th century (assuming Mr. Roberts is not currently being rigorously skullfucked by Mr. Schumer, of course). The sight of voters willing to wait five hours to exercise their rights should strike fear into these bastards’ hearts, but I’m sure instead, they’re giddy at the thought of all the folks who couldn’t afford to spare that much time. As always, there is nothing, NOTHING a Republican fears so much as a free and fair election.

With Trumpal Buttleech Ron Johnson suddenly rediscovering the urgent need to pick through the chest-high pile of horseshit known as the Burisma conspiracy theory in the wake of Smilin’ Joe Biden’s campaign resurgence, one could easily assume that political concerns, rather than a genuine desire to battle corruption, are at work here. But fear not! Inspector Willard is on the case! Yes, Mitt Romney smelled chicanery, and for a few hours he even made noises about blocking RoJo’s bullshit subpoena, but of course he reversed himself almost immediately; it’s really asking a lot, expecting a prominent Republican to do the right thing twice in one year.

And a watchdog group reveals that the Grifter Grand Wizard continues to bilk taxpayers by not only charging the Secret Service rent to protect his crooked ass, but using loopholes to bill them even more than any other government employee would be permitted to spend. Maybe we’re lucky the Trumps are such cheap thugs at heart, that they’re content with petty schemes like this instead of, like, selling the Dakotas to Canada for a handful of shiny beads.

Coming this fall from Marvel Studios, it’s Mouth-Breathing Dolt Team-Up, starring Steve King and Louie Gohmert! Yes, the House GOP’s most racist member joined forces with their dumbest (I bestow neither title lightly, therefore tremble at the implications) to spread, on the very floor of the U.S. Congress, conspiratorial nonsense so insane, so squirrel-poop nutty, it’d make Glenn Beck blush JUST KIDDING Beck is of course merrily spreading the same manure from his (thankfully) greatly-reduced platform, but anyway, King and Gohmert still get to vote on our LAWS, that’s a whole Tales From the Crypt story just by itself, isn’t it?

Redactor General William Barr has been wise enough to slither out of the headlines lately, so God only knows what Constitution-shredding fuckery he’s been up to these last few weeks, but at least a federal (and Republican-appointed) judge is calling him out for his treacherous mishandling of the Mueller report. Judge Reggie Walton has demanded an unredacted copy of the report, and Your Honor, if you’re lookin’ to leak that shit, my DMs are open, so go ahead and sli-wait, that’s a terrible fucking idea, I’m a drunken slob in a superhero mask, send it to a journalist, Reggie! Reggie? If you’re still reading, a JOURNALIST!!!!*

At a Fux Nooz clown hall, the Candycorn Skidmark indulged once again in one of his favorite fantasies, cutting entitlement programs, and if he’s that eager to provide footage for Bloomberg’s coming wave of attack ads, just this one time I’m gonna say “Great job, Mr. President, keep up the good work!”

Sometimes I worry that this blog is little more than a catalogue of sorrows, lightly sprinkled with poo jokes. I fear that I’m bringing more pain than hope into your world, reciting this never-ending litany of horrible, horrible, shit. But I have pledged to chronicle these days, and so chronicle them I must. If it ever becomes too much to bear, I understand, and will not judge if you are forced to look away. Still, it is with the heaviest of hearts that I must report to you that Antonio Sabato, Jr. blames his support of a certain Farthuffin’ Fascist for the end of his storied Hollywood career. Though I have wept at the tales of traumatized children, stolen from their families and locked in cages, it is only now, contemplating the loss of this important, nay, absolutely VITAL artist’s voice, that I truly understand what tragedy means.

But never fear, having plunged the reader into the very depths of despair, I shall now extend to you the branch of purest hope, and pull you out! For yea, though we live in a world torn by hate and war and terror, though we’ve apparently got American Nazis unfurling swastika flags at Jewish presidential candidates’ campaign rallies, REST EASY THY HEAD, noble friend, secure in the knowledge that Melania, Empress of Excrement, is happily overseeing the construction of a new Shart House “tennis pavilion” while us plebs frantically try to find a neighborhood store that still stocks hand sanitizer. Puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?

And now CNN reports that we’re up to six former wrestlers accusing Howling Rageclown Gym Jordan of knowing about, and thus concealing and enabling the culture of sexual abuse at OSU. Of course, not a single voice in the white supremacist hate cult known as the Republican Party has called on Jordan to resign from Congress, because fealty to the Turdlord washes away all sins, even if you never quite get the stench out of your clothes.

Y’know, maybe Gym is the recipient of an elaborate curse, where if he’s wearing a suit jacket when he lies about anything, the jacket bursts into flame. That would explain some things. Or maybe he’s just a malicious, mendacious, horse’s ass; that would explain the same things, I suppose.

Getting back to the coronavirus, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot, seeking to make sure Americans have an adequate supply of nightmare fuel to ride out the crisis, went down to the CDC, in his stupid, made-in-China red ball cap, to proclaim himself a scientific genius, tell America he was keeping infected patients quarantined on a cruise ship because he thinks (erroneously) that doing so will keep the official number of cases down, and brag about his crowd sizes…when asked if he thought holding rallies during an outbreak was really such a bright idea. The point, in case this is still unclear to anybody in the back row, is that this narcissistic old shitsack will, without a moment’s hesitation, let millions of us get sick, and yes, even die, in a doomed attempt to keep his polling stronger for an extra day or so.

Ok, that’s enough, I think we’ve all earned our weekend. I am, of course, still extremely thankful for the words of support and encouragement y’all have sent my way over the last week. I’m working on getting the comic shipped out, but I will respond to your kind messages when I have time.

PS – I see Jerk of All Trades Mick Mulvaney has been exiled, and Lead Congressional Stooge Mark Meadows is Sharty McFly’s shiny new Chief of Staff. Enjoy going down with the ship, Marky-boy!

* Judge Reggie Walton is not actually a reader of this blog. Or if he is, he never comments, in which case, fuck him.