Well, Santa left me a couple cases of my favorite IPA, and a new pair of shit-kickin’ boots, so I’m all outfitted for a whole new year of resistin’. Let’s plow through one last news roundup, and march on to 2020, when we finally get rid of this treasonous fuckhead once and for all, shall we?

I’m sure you all enjoyed the latest full frontal assault on Real ‘Murica in our annual War on Xmas; I know nothing makes me feel any hollier or jollier than crushing the traditional values of decent folk, like, for example, Arizona Congressjag Paul Gosar, who marked the season of love and hope and giving by tweeting out an old video of Hillary Clinton nearly getting killed by a piece of falling lighting equipment during an interview. You can’t even get mad at a guy like that; if you’re so deranged with hatred that you don’t have anything better to do on Xmas Day, bro, your life is its own reward.

Meanwhile Fake Historian/Actual Felon Dinesh D’Souza manifested his holiday spirit by…feuding with Auschwitz Museum on Twitter. For real. I swear. Look, I don’t make the news, I just write extremely juvenile jokes about it.

I see Chuck Todd has finally begun to theatrically scratch his chin and theorize that there’s something fishy going on with these Republican types. “Say,” mused Chuckles, the dimmest imaginable cartoon lightbulb appearing above his head, “I do believe those right-wing fellows have been using my softball interviews as a platform to spread misinformation!” before ordering his scheduling team to book even more right-wing liars on his show to spread even more misinformation.

…if I die soon, I’m going to use my dying breaths to scrawl “Facebook, reality TV, and bothsidesism” in the dirt with my finger, so that future generations will know what brought about the end of humanity.

Good news for the tremblingly insecure man-baby who throws himself a party every time he breaks 50% in a Rasmussen survey, we finally found a poll where you’re the runaway victor! Of course, it’s a German poll, and it doesn’t so much measure “job approval” as “among the world’s many authoritarian crotchtumors, who is the single biggest threat to world peace?” Still, you ran circles around your buddy, Kim Jong-un, which’ll give you something to brag about the next time he’s making you jump through hoops for his own amusement.

After nearly three years of nonstop crime and scandal, Oklahoma Senator James Lankford has finally mustered the dollhouse teacup’s worth of courage to buck Republican Party orthodoxy and proclaim that Hairplug Himmler, Thief of Charity Funds and Opener of Concentration Camps, is, and you may want to be near a fainting couch before you continue reading…not a good role model for th’kids. Such moral courage hasn’t been seen since Thomas More, surely. Naturally, we should expect Lankford to continue voting with Captain Shitty Role Model 90% of the time, including letting him off the hook for all his well-documented high crimes, and also Mr. Trump, sir, I can stand guard at the front door of the National Archives while you set the Constitution on fire, if you’d like that, sir?

If you’re looking for a role model, kiddo, there are plenty of examples close by, all you have to do is pull your head out Donnie Two-Scoops’ ass and look across the proverbial aisle.

A new Federal Reserve study tells us that Strawberry Shartcake’s idiot tariffs backfired, leading to job losses and higher prices and other general crotch stomps to the American economy. Does it really count as “backfiring” when literally everyone with two brain cells to rub together expected this result, though? Like “holy shit, my Crab-Rangoon-and-Häagen-Dazs diet backfired, who could have foreseen this mysterious and unexpected outcome?”

As you are no doubt aware, there’s been a wave of anti-Semitic violence sweeping over New York City, horrifically punctuated by a mass stabbing at a rabbi’s house during a Hanukkah celebration. I’m sure there were some Very Fine People™️ on both sides of the attacks, right?

While Jewish Americans struggled to cope with the inevitable consequences of stochastic terrorism fed by the constant bigotry emanating from the highest office in the land, the President‘s large adult son was quick to condemn the hatred and violence, offering to assist the grieving communities in any way he JUST KIDDING the kid had a total meltdown because his douchebag dad’s cameo got cut from the Canadian broadcast of Home Alone 2, which Cult45 apparently interprets as a massive media conspiracy, instead of a years-old decision to trim the film to accommodate commercial breaks. Man, it must be exhausting, perpetually scanning the world for bullshit excuses to claim victimhood.

(I write this from the trenches outside Toronto, by the way; Dear Leader has demanded bloody restitution and restoration of his scene, plus a sequel in which he and Kevin McCallister go on a road trip, beat up Antifa together, and score a bunch of chicks.)

And we learned more about Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s favorite new campaign surrogate, Eddie Gallagher. Now, I’m not always the most pleasant person to be around, but I’m proud to say I’ve never been described as “freaking evil” by any past co-workers, but then, I’m not a psychopathic mass murderer. I dunno, maybe he likes hanging out with Eddie because it means he’s not necessarily the most reprehensible sack of shit in the room, which must be a refreshing change.

Locked away in the Shart House over the long holiday weekend with no company beyond the hallucinations brought on by his experimental hair tonic, President Gas Station Urinal Cake went on a so-unhinged-you’d-think-there-was-an-accident-at-the-door-factory Twitter rant that not only publicly outed the alleged whistleblower, but lent the presidential pulpit to several of the frothiest lunatics in the QAnon movement. This commitment to ever-more-ridiculous levels of misinformation will probably have truly terrible consequences for our beloved country, but we shouldn’t rule out the possibility of transforming into a civilization like the aliens in Galaxy Quest, who believed old television shows were historical documentaries. I mean, yeah, we’re probably headed for some sort of dystopia, but there’s an outside chance it will also be hilarious.

Well, the Candycorn Skidmark had another secret phone call with his BFF Vlad, and like always, he tried to hide it from the American public, but then Pootie-Poo blabbed about it to the whole cafeteria during lunchtime, and also the stuff about Donnie wetting the bed and trying to make it look like pee hookers did it, how embarrassing. Anyway, the Not at All a Russian Asset Prez is still sneaking around behind America’s back to whisper sweet nothings at the dude who ordered an attack on our last presidential election, KEWL*.

Well, you probably saw the thing where the Failing New York Times did that deep dive into what’s currently known about Weehands McNodick’s what-if-the-Three-Stooges-did-a-bunch-of-meth-and-then-conducted-international-diplomacy crime spree, and it’s what the Poet would call “a doozy.” It’s a tale full of crimes and lies and coverups, with a quivering orange pile of poo in the middle, desperate for fabricated dirt on a man he knows he could never hope to defeat, in either a fair election or a push-up contest.

Democrats point to new revelations in the article as evidence that co-conspirators like Mick Mulvaney and Mike Pompeo must testify in the Senate’s impeachment trial, while Mitch McConnell, of course, sees only more evidence to be swept under the rug, and there’s already so much shit down there that he bumps his little turtle head on the ceiling every time he sits behind his desk, so can he please just get back to confirming skeevy, under-qualified, hacks to lifetime judicial appointments, that’s much more fun. How much more evidence will turn up before Nancy takes pity on the Marmalade Shartcannon and passes the articles of impeachment on to the Senate, I wonder? 

And now I see Rudy Giuliani’s ratfucking partner (ew), Lev Parnas, is looking to regift a bunch of old evidence he has lying around, to investigators with the House Intelligence Committee. I’m told there’s even an iPhone on the table; Adam Schiff gets all the cool shit, no fair!

Aaaaand…that’s it. Yeah, it’s been a week since the last blog, but it’s still kinda light. Well, it’s the holidays; let’s just enjoy the break before we, y’know, fight like hell to win our country back in the coming year. Anyway, if anybody needs me, I’ll be out back, beating the last remnants of 2019 to death with a fucking sledgehammer.

*Not actually kewl. 

And don’t forget, coming soooooon…