Mike Pence is the Patron Saint of Mediocre White Dudes, and the Roman God of Failing Upwards.
A Democrat in his youth, Pence, like many men of limited intelligence, turned to religious conservatism for the convenience of being able to end arguments by claiming God shares his every fear and prejudice, while forgiving his every shortcoming, how convenient.
Secretary of State
Over the course of three decades, Rex Tillerson fucked, bribed, and murdered his way to the top of Exxon Mobil, like some sort of jowlsy Eva Peron.
Secretary of the Treasury
Steve Mnuchin, like his namesake, the Noise You Make When You’re Dry Heaving After Getting Food Poisoning From Eating Truck Stop Gas Station Roller Hot Pockets on a Road Trip, is deeply unpleasant, and may result in the involuntary voiding of foul-smelling bodily fluids.
Secretary of Defense
Chief of Staff
National Security Advisor
Holy shit, there are Generals all over the place these days, aren’t there?
Retired General James Mattis serves as Secretary of Defense. Retired General John Kelly ran Homeland Security for a bit, before becoming the Lead Executive Branch Babysitter, excuse me, Chief of Staff. H.R. McMaster’s the National Security Advisor, and hell, he’s still on active duty.
Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, third generation of his family to carry the name of a Confedarate piece of trash and also a second Confederate piece of trash, is living his dream. As Velveeta Goebbels’ Attorney General, he’s turning back the clock to a time when women and minorities knew their place, and mediocre white dudes like himself got to run everything, even if they weren’t especially bright.
Secretary of Commerce
When a witch’s curse transformed his master into a Beast and his fellow servants into household objects, Wilbur Ross became a decorative garden gnome. Unlike the rest of his compatriots, he ventured out into the world to make his fortune in the realm of shady international finance and money laundering, and when True Love’s Kiss lifted the curse, Wilbur was too far away for the enchantment to reverse, and thus he remains trapped in gnome form forever.
Secretary of Health and Human Services
If the Hippocratic Oath is binding in any sort of spiritual sense, Tom Price is royally fucked, y’all. There is some straight Dante shit awaitin’ him in the afterlife.
Secretary of Housing and Urban Development
Dr. Ben Carson is only in politics because he was rude President Obama to his face. At the 2013 National Prayer Breakfast, a traditionally non-political event, Dr. Ben, having been invited as the keynote speaker, decided to use his time to shit on the President and his policies.
Secretary of Education
Betsy DeVos is what happens when bored white ladies have enough money to really fuck shit up. Turns out, if you’re born rich and marry richer, you don’t have to settle for a book club, you can buy yourself a whole cabinet department!
Administrator of the EPA
Scott Pruitt, like a lot of boys his age, grew up watching Captain Planet cartoons. Unlike most boys his age, he decided that the various sludge-smog-and-toxic-waste-slinging villains were the role models for him.
Ok, fine. Pruitt is ten years too old to have grown up on Captain Planet, but fuck you, that’s a good opening paragraph. Make your own fucking website, you don’t like it.
Chief of Staff
Nobody wants to be Reince Priebus when they grow up. He’s just so immediately recognizable as a weaselly little tapeworm of a man, y’know?
Reince Priebus is the sort of person who would be played by Brad Dourif in a film.
Steve Bannon played Bob Ewell in a high school production of To Kill a Mockingbird, and liked it so much he decided to stay in the character for the rest of his life.
A self-described Leninist, and an outspoken populist*, Bannon wants to kidney-punch the administrative state, give it a wedgie, and steal its lunch money.
Jared Kushner was born on third base and thinks he invented baseball.
Jared’s dad, Charles Kushner, went to jail for tax evasion, illegal campaign donations, and, ahem, “witness tampering,” by which I mean he set his brother-in-law up with a hooker (not, I’m sad to report, of the Pissing Russian variety) and recorded their genital-smushing in order to blackmail him.
When you worked for Akin, things weren’t simple
Cuz he got caught on tape
With legitimate rape
Senior Advisor for Policy
Why is it always the shittiest imaginable white dudes who turn out to be white supremacists?
Stephen Miller, who started balding eleven seconds after his conception, has by all accounts been a sack of monkey shit pretty much every single minute of his life.
Director of Communications
Oh wow, this new Communications Director looks like a real character, huh?
Where to begin? Ok, Anthony Scaramucci first came to –
Wait, what? Really?
White Supremacist Multi-Tool
Kris Kobach is like the protagonist of the white supremacist version of one of those Disney movies where a kid learns to chase his dreams, no matter how big. The kid gets tired of the monotonous grind of burning crosses on just one lawn at a time, and dreams of burning a cross big enough for the whole dang country!
Maybe he has a talking/singing Confederate flag for a sidekick. Named “Bedford.”
Roving Freelance Fascist
As seen in the famed documentary RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, when the Ark of the Covenant was opened on an uncharted island north of Crete, the burning light that issued thereof reduced the Nazi soldiers present to piles of ash and molten flesh. In time, the rains washed the fascist bio-goo into the island’s sewage system, where it mixed with the shit and piss and used tampons and such, and in time it congealed, took the shape of a man (albeit an unattractive one), slapped on a pair of glasses, and Sebastian Gorka was formed.
Speaker of the House
Paul Ryan was cloned from a single pubic hair plucked from Ayn Rand post-coitus and grown in a still in Charles Koch’s back yard.
Senate Majority Leader
Many years ago, Gamera was following the Grateful Dead on tour, and engaged in a brief-but-life-affirming affair with an Ohio River ‘gator that hung around Ma McConnell’s pig farm, picking off runts for sustenance. Nine months later, young Mitch emerged from a leathery egg, and devoured his fellow hatchlings, beginning his life-long love affair with hurting children.
In Which Project Veritas Wins President Drumpf’s Fake News Trophy
Hey there, folks. Remember the Obama administration? There’d be entire weeks where you wouldn’t pay attention to the news at all, right? Oh sure, you’d notice out of the corner of your eye that Mitch McConnell was bellowing about something, and maybe Joe Biden let a swear slip out every now and then, but…it was quiet. Pleasant.
I sat down tonight to work up this post thinking it was kind of a slow news day. Maybe not even worth writing about. Heh. Standards…they change.
Ok, Resisters, before we break down this latest Manic Monday, have you called your congressmonster regarding the New American Aristocracy Creation Act, excuse me, “tax reform bill” yet?
You gotta get on that before you read any further, campers. Civic Duty = Peas, Shower Cap = Dessert. I swear, I’ll turn this blog around right now.
US Capitol Switchboard: (202) 224-3121
We can, and must kill this monstrosity. The CBO confirmed today that yes, this bill fucks the poor over hardcore, just so the uber-wealthy can go full Elizabeth-Banks-in-the-Hunger-Games. Families making under $40,000 annually will be forced to send their first-born to Chuckie Koch’s estate to work as servants on fox hunts, probably. GET ON THE DAMN PHONE.
Did you call? Did you REALLY call? Let me see your phone, I’mma look at your call history.
…okay, you may read my juvenile poop jokes now.
So, the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits started the day with a tweetantrum about how there should be a CONTEST between all the tv networks for who has the fakest nooz about his flawless, universally-admired, Presidency.
And ok, so the guy with nuclear codes talks like the dumbest kid in fourth grade, that’s fun. Perhaps in the NAFTA negotiations, he’ll try to classic “Countrypayingfortheborderwallsayswhat?” tactic.
Hey, look! The Mooch clawed out another eight seconds of fame! Seems Tony Ten-Days was supposed to speak at an event at his alma matter, but got booted for threatening to sue a kid who wrote an anti-Mooch op-ed in the school paper. That’s a totally normal thing for a secure, successful, grown-ass man to do.
In about six years, Scaramucci’ll wander the streets of D.C. like some modern-day Dickens tramp, accosting strangers who drift too close to him, begging, “Please sir…can I have some camera time?”
The Shart House ethics lawyer resigned today, perhaps because the day-to-day grind of rubbing his ass all over the Constitution of the United States of America for the benefit of a handful of petty crooks had become monotonous Who cares? Fuck that guy.
The Archbishop of Canterbury, who apparently exists in the real world, and not just in technicolor costume dramas, weighed in on Cult45, saying “What the FUCK, you guys? Jesus was super specific about lying and cheating and stealing, and if he didn’t expressly address pussy-grabbing, it’s because he figured NOBODY WAS FUCKING STUPID ENOUGH TO NEED TO BE TOLD NOT TO FUCKING DO THAT.”
Well, Mick “The guy who jerks off to the galley slave scenes in BEN-HUR” Mulvaney tried taking charge of the CFPB today, as did Leandra “I actually want this agency to do the job it’s supposed to” English. English filed a lawsuit aimed at preventing Micky from taking over, so the ongoing circus we call the executive branch just opened up yet another ring.
I like to imagine everyone’s dividing up into factions, and somebody’s working on a clever parody of some West Side Story lyrics, tailored to Consumer Protection shop talk, but that’s probably just wishful thinking.
And Mike “The Turkish Delight” Flynn appears to have sent his lawyers to negotiate a “Please don’t send me and my shitty kid to jail forever” plea arrangement with Bobadook Mueller’s team, which at least explains President Shartcannon’s increasingly unhinged tweeting. The noose…she tightens.
Boss Shart announced he won’t go down to Alabama to campaign for serial child molester Roy Moore. Probably worried they’d end up competing for the same chicks at the skating rink.
Meanwhile, PedoRoy’s opponent, Doug Jones (Who you’ve donated to already, right? NO? Open that wallet, Resister!) reminded the good folks of Alabama that the Ex-Judge is completely unfit to serve even without the sexual assault allegations. The Creepy Old Fucker is actually anti-preschool.
And Alabama’s other Senator, Richard Shelby, announced he didn’t vote for Moore, but wrote in the name of a “distinguished Republican” instead. Shelby initially refused to reveal the identity of his write-in, but after persistent badgering, eventually barked “It’s Jon Voight, okay?!? His work in ANACONDA…has always moved me.”
Moore finally drew a Republican write-in opponent, retired Marine Colonel/John Kelly aide Lee Busby. Congrats, Alabama, on your own personal Evan McMullin. Every vote you siphon off from the pedophile is a-ok with me, Lee.
The owners of the Trump International Hotel in Panama are all “Please God, let us scrape your shitty, Nazi-apologizing, pedophile-endorsing name off our building so that we can make money again!” Remember, Shart Garfunkel isn’t an actual real estate developer anymore; he’s in the branding business. He’s too widely known as a crook to actually BUILD things now, he just slaps his name on things that other people build.
But now that name is a liability. Which is why it’s coming off so many buildings. Hell, fees to be unassociated with the Drumpf brand will probably be Junior-n-Eric’s chief revenue stream going forward.
So, we all know that Orange Julius Caesar isn’t up to the job of “President of the United States.” He’s hopelessly overmatched…too stupid, too lazy, too selfish, too incurious…this is why he fails so fucking much.
Still, today, he faced a task he really ought to have been able to pull off. A gig roughly equivalent to the job description of “Walmart Greeter.”
Just a little ceremony, honoring some legit, badass, American heroes. Navajo Code Talkers. Just read a few words, shake a couple hands, take some photos.
How could you fuck something like that up? Just…smile, nod, and don’t say anything racist for six minutes. My fucking cat could manage that. But not the President. Nope, Draftdodger Don looks at these AMERICAN HEROES and goes, “You know what they’d like? An ETHNIC SLUR! Preferably directly in front of a portrait of famous bigot! Can I read a room, or can I read a room?”
Jesus Tittyfucking Christ.
And god love her, Sarah Sanders marched out, and sneered at the press “No, it wasn’t an ethnic slur, YOUR FACE IS AN ETHNIC SLUR!” She is, if nothing else, happy in her work.
Getting back to our Commander-in-Chief’s extraordinarily limited mental capacity, didja see the thing Rich Lowry posted today? Lowry wrote a column after the GOP’s electoral taint-punting in Virginia a couple weeks back, about how Drumpf had become a weight around his party’s neck, BUT the piece had the ego-handjobbing title “There is Only Trump,” so Dumbass shot back a little signed thank-you note in the style of his pathetic “I do SO have normal-sized fingers” correspondence with Spy Magazine, back in the day.
Also, earlier today, James O’Keefe released a video of himself just wailing away on his own crotch with a pair of ball peen hammers.
Ok, not quite, but he might as well have.
Seems Jimmy dispatched one of his Project Dumbshit undercover clowns at some WaPo reporters, pretending to be a woman impregnated as a teenager by Roy Moore, in attempt to later jump out of a closet yelling “Surprise! The Washington Post doesn’t vet their sources,” only the Washington Post vetted their sources.
Yeah, they investigated the undercover clown’s backstory (perhaps tipped off by the greasepaint makeup still lingering around her collar?), and even tracked her back to Jimbo’s HQ. And they confronted her, and they recorded the confrontation, and then they published a whole article about this bumbling group of would-be spies, and how they are colossal stupid.
Anyway, Jimmy’s frantically scrambling to recut whatever footage he has to make it come out “My name is Werner Brandes. My voice is my passport. Verify me.” Good luck.
But hey, at least they can take comfort in swiftly winning that Fake Nooz trophy Dorito Mussolini offered earlier.
Anyway, that’s just ONE FUCKING DAY, and of course there’s stuff I missed. Team Rex lost a key administrative state deconstructer, and the Senate GOP is frantically scrambling to placate the various asshole constituencies they need to ram their tax bill (Did you call? You better have fucking called.) through.
And tomorrow will certainly dump its own fresh batch of shit on all our heads.