I see they’re starting to drop teasers for the new Joker movie…given everything we deal with on a day to day basis, I’m not sure a film about a criminally insane agent of chaos will come off as relaxing escapism. Anyway, between the daily news and this Cadbury Creme Mayonnaise horror, in 2019, the Joker feels about as transgressive as an accountant watching golf from a beige loveseat.

Fuck it, let’s do the news.

So, this week, the President of the United States asked for “cat soup” with his overcooked steak, repeatedly insisted that he’d never been married to Marla Maples, and told a rally crowd that eating a human toenail daily reduces the risk of heart disease.

Ok, none of that is true. But he did mispronounce the word “origins” ( “Oranges?” Come on, the writers are just getting lazy now), say his father was born in Germany (nope), and claim that the noise from windmills causes cancer, and is that any less ridiculous?

The windmill thing was several days ago now, so all the good gags are long gone, but the honest truth is, I didn’t even see the Don Quixote angle, so I really don’t deserve to make a joke anyway.

I guess somebody wrote an entire fucking book about how Weehands McNodick cheats at golf like it was a second wife approaching middle age. We could talk about how this reveals the man’s all-consuming pettiness, but folks…golf is really important to him. He does it whenever he can, and he’s been doing it for a long damn time. And he’s STILL so shitty at it that he has to cheat. All the stuff he’s less interested in/experienced with?  Like, say, international diplomacy, or, y’know…running the motherfucking country? Honestly, how are any of us still alive?

When a guy A) Cheats at golf, B) Becomes President of the whole dang United States, and C) Is a white supremacist, I guess we shouldn’t really be too terrifically surprised when he goes out of his way to rig the game for all the Very Fine People in his dirtbag base. So yeah, DHS disbanded a group that was focused on domestic terrorism, but hey, it’s not like they did it in the middle of a surge in homegrown white nationalist terrorism or anything OH WAIT.

Speaking of the Mediocre KKK Weekend Softball Team governing our nation, while the Shart Administration continues to fail daily at fulfilling promises like bringing back manufacturing jobs or balancing the budget, it must be admitted, they are on the very bleeding edge of hatred. Nobody’s ever thought of using a natural disaster that killed hundreds of people to turn folks against each other before*, but we’re dealing with real innovators of bigotry here. Incessant lies about disaster relief to Puerto Rico are the appetizer; the main course is sending your sneering stooge out to refer to that island, whose residents are American citizens, as “that country.”

Hey, I know your emotional bandwidth has largely been consumed by concentration camps full of migrant children and transgender Americans facing rollbacks of their civil rights, but maybe you can spare half a thought and 27% of a prayer for James Comey, who apparently still stays awake at night wondering if his dumbfuck letter about Hillary Clinton’s e-mails got a certain Tangerine Tyrant elected, which, by the way, IT ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DID.

Yeah, I remember once when I accidentally broke one of my mom’s decorative flower pots, I felt bad about it for a bit. I imagine if I FUCKED UP THE ENTIRE MOTHERFUCKING PLANET because I PLACED MY PERSONAL EGO ABOVE THE WELL-BEING OF ALL LIFE ON EARTH and got a SHAMELESS PSYCHOPATHIC MORON elected President, I’d have some sleepless nights, too. Anyway, maybe try some tea, you unbearable fuckhead.

Heh. All those red state felon disenfranchisement laws might just wind up backfiring in North Carolina, with a number of the GOP’s leading power-brokers indicted in a brand new corruption scandal.  No, this is the bribery one, not the election fraud one. Anyway, there’ll be so many North Carolina Republicans in prison by 2020, it might just be a blue-leaning swing state, but I bet they’ll absolutely dominate the cool kids table in the prison cafeteria.

Sharty McFly’s critics claim his policies make life harder for working people, with his tariffs and plutocrat-empowering tax cuts and his repeated attempts to steal health insurance from millions, but I say he deserves credit for the segments of the population he does help! Why, think of how much easier he’s made life for all those blue-collar foreign spies out there, just tryin’ to make ends meet by delivering state secrets to our geopolitical rivals! He’s rolled out the red carpet for them, conducting highly classified business at his precisely-as-insecure-as-its-owner Marm-a-Lago resort! Yes, if you’re a hostile foreign power looking to get a leg up on the ol’ U.S. of A., you’ve got one helluva safety net…if you’re a working class American?  Well, go fuck yourself.

For Pete’s sake, have we become so blindly partisan that we can’t acknowledge the rare occasions when Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot actually helps people? The fake liberal media keeps peppering us with stories of folks facing higher-than-expected tax bills following his tax scam reform, but that’s not the full picture! Why, just one working class fellow, a guy by the name of J.P. Morgan, saw a $3.7 billion windfall on his tax bill, and I’ll bet he’s just the sort of salt of the earth type who’ll share his good fortune with the community, maybe take the neighborhood kids out for an ice cream co-wait, what? JP Morgan isn’t a dude, it’s a predatory global investment firm? A vampire squid draining wealth from working people all over the world, directly into the 1%’s pocket? CUT TO COMMERCIAL, DAMMIT!

Louie Gohmert has maintained his viselike grip on the Dumbest Man in Congress title for so long, it’s almost unthinkable to look for serious challengers, but I think it’s time we gave Matt Gaetz a hard look. Following his comments this week on transgender rights, you’d have to conclude Matt’s IQ falls somewhere between that of a donkey and a donut.

And now he wants to move to Alabama to run for Senate! The very thought of primary debates between that mouth-breathing troll, and Mo Brooks, two of the dumbest, most hateful men I have ever seen in my life, trying to out-Trump one another…I know Jordan Peele has pledged not to cast white leads in his films, but the horror potential here is enormous.

And William Barr’s master plan to paper over the findings of the biggest investigation in American history with a four-page memo and a “Frankie Say Relax” sticker, and then counting on everybody getting distracted by Game of Thrones seems to be showing cracks.

The investigators on Mueller’s team, who ran a tightly-sealed ship for two years, have finally started to leak, and they’re clearly unhappy with Barr’s going-away present of shirts that read, “I Investigated a Foreign Attack on the United States and All I Got was a Bullshit Memo and This Lousy T-Shirt.”

Meanwhile the Oversight Renaissance keeps on truckin’. The House Judiciary Committee will subpoena the Mueller report, in spite of Barr’s attempts to wear extra-trustworthy-looking suits all week. And House Ways and Means Committee Chairman Richard Neal finally initiated what’s sure to be the long, torturous, process of extracting the Marmalade Shartcannon’s desperately-hidden tax returns.

But Don the Con keeps waving the wand he got at the Harry Potter theme park, shouting “Presidential harassment!” and “I’m under audit!” as though those are real things that will protect him from congressional oversight, which is almost cute, in an “aw, look at the widdle autocwat! Him is so scared and angwy!” sort of way, I suppose.

Now Team Treasonweasel says it’ll take the fight to hide the evidence of his life of crime, excuse me, his “tax returns” all the way to the Supreme Court! Heh. Considering your record in the courts, m’boy, you may as well offer to arm-wrestle Levan Saginashvii for them. (Ok, so I had to google “arm-wrestling champions” for that joke. But everybody learned something new, didn’t they?)

This one’ll take a while, folks…right now Neal’s just warming up the nitrous oxide machine and slipping on his rubber gloves with an ominous, theatrical, snap. But after two long years, Trump is finally in the damn dentist’s chair, and this root canal is happening whether he likes it or not. And he’s not getting a lollipop when it’s all over, even if he’s good. And if you don’t think I can beat a metaphor to death, I assure you you are mistaken.

Obviously, the Candycorn Skidmark is terrified of what happens when the world gets ahold of those tax returns, as exhibited by his attempt to fast-track the confirmation of his chosen IRS chief counsel, placing it above even Barr’s own confirmation.  I honestly don’t know what’s crazier; using the full force of the central government of the most powerful nation in human history to cover up one man’s crimes, or using all that power…and failing anyway.

Mike Pants yelled at NATO for a bit, only to be met with stony, no-doubt-fart-filled, silence. Now that we’re well past the halfway mark for Strawberry Shartcake’s term, you get the sense the world is just waiting him out, and our European allies treat Mikey Hairshirt like…well, like what he is: a blistering mediocrity who tumbled backwards into his office, a useless errand boy who can’t set any policy or make any promises worth a damn, because you never know when his idiot boss might upend U.S. foreign policy in a tweet because he misinterpreted a Ricola commercial as a Swiss military threat.

I see Emperor Shitmaggot is so concerned about Joe Biden’s Touchy Old Guy controversy, he’s appointing accused sexual harasser Herman Cain to the Fed. The 9-9-9 guy on the fucking Federal Reserve Board. Y’know, I think I’m gonna start slowly phasing out the jokes here on the ol’ blog, and just let the news stand on its own. You’d still laugh.

Well, Mitch McConnell went and did it, he blew up Senate rules again to smooth out the Klan-rally-to-federal-government pipeline. Now there’s scarcely enough debate time to catalogue the average Trump appointee’s racially offensive social media posts, let alone actually vet any of them. Plus now the most junior Senator from New England has to give the nominee a relaxing mani-pedi during their floor testimony. Shameful.

Tim Ryan became the latest dude to jump into the Dem presidential primary, with a futile plan to out-whiteguy the Grifter Grand Wizard, and look, I’m sure his mom will be thrilled to see him on television more. While I have no intention of voting for Tim, I find it pretty inspirational that he can even walk, let alone campaign, with Nancy Pelosi’s boot so far up his ass.

There’s not a lot to do in the House minority, you don’t get to set the agenda or pass laws or anything fun like that. But every so often, Pelosi calls everybody to the floor for a vote, and she summons the increasingly-feral GOP caucus by ringing a great big bell and shouting, “OH BOYS! TIME TO REMIND AMERICA WHAT GIGANTIC FESTERING ASSHOLES YOU ALL ARE!”

And damned if they don’t rise to the bait every fuckin’ time. “Hey Republicans, d’ya still wanna steal health care from millions of your constituents?” FUCK YEAH WE DO. “Ok, we only ask because we just kicked your ass on this issue last November! While we’ve got you, how do you feel about the Violence Against Women Act” GRRRRARRRRR FUCK THAT SHIT, WHO ARE WE TO INFRINGE UPON THE RIGHTS OF A MAN WITH A HISTORY OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE TO PURCHASE A MURDER MACHINE?!??!  HE’S A LAW-ABIDING PATRIOT RIGHT UP TO THE MOMENT WHEN THE ROUND LEAVES THE CHAMBER, DAGNABBIT!”

…how exactly is the party that wants less health care and more murder the one that calls itself “pro-life” again? I mean, I was an English major, but did I maybe sleep in on the day they went over what words mean?

I confess I get a kick out of the handful of occasions when Donnie Dotard’s pea-sized lizard brain actually comprehends that he’s fucked something up, like that guilty look your dog gets when you walk in on him chewing up your nicest pair of shoes. Anyway, House Republicans seem to have cooled his enthusiasm to lead his party back off the diving board into the swimming pool full of broken glass and starving rats that is Obamacare repeal, presumably by gathering together and screaming in unison “HEY ASSHOLE, NOTICE HOW THERE’S FORTY FEWER OF US NOW?!?!”

And the Velveeta Vulgarian decided he enjoyed the new Humiliating Retreat ride at the Six Flags of Life so much, he just had to go again! One minute he’s struttin’ around, threatening to close the entire southern border if Mexico doesn’t shut down all undocumented immigration and reveal to him the awesome secrets of the fearsome umbrella, the next he’s backing down so fast, Ralph Northam was jealous of his moonwalk.

There’s a rule of threes, dammit. We need one more ridiculous threat, and one more pathetic attempt as ass-covering, masking a total reversal. “If he refuses to pass my infrastructure package, I will personally skullfuck Minority Leader Schumer on the floor of the Senate!” And then when Chuck takes off his jacket and says “Come at me, bro,” maybe a hasty, “Dr. Ronny Jackson has advised me that I will require 18 months of treatment for my suddenly resurgent bone spurs before I am cleared to engage in any skullfucking activities. Your lucky day, Schumer!”

Howard Schultz revealed a potentially game-changing endorsement of his generally pointless, cardboard-flavored, candidacy; the empty chair that Clint Eastwood brought onstage during the 2012 Republican National Convention. Truly, the GOP is bleeding support everywhere, even among the Daffy Old White Guy Furniture Metaphor community.

Hey, if you ever worry that we’re not being governed by the best and the brightest, try this one on for size: Steve Mnuchin, our wily Treasury Secretary, tried to skirt ethics rules by selling his stake in a film production company…to his awful wife! OH YOU TRICKSY DOG, YOU. I kinda hope Louise uses her newfound clout to sneak behind her husband’s back and get her horrible, tone-deaf, white savior memoir adapted for the silver screen.

Even though Paul Manafort makes it look like so much fun, it seems as though Michael Cohen is not excited about going to jail. Now he says he’s got a whole new hard drive full of evidence of who knows how many crimes, but it’s probably just all the Matchbox Twenty songs his boss told him to download from Napster in 1999.

And suddenly, Littlefinger pulled his pick for ICE Director, allegedly at the behest of Seething HateWeasel Stephen Miller, who wants somebody “tougher.” I’m trying to think of who might be cruel enough to meet Miller’s standards, but I’m pretty sure all qualified candidates plummeted to off-screen deaths in Disney movies. I dunno, maybe Gaston landed on a haystack.

Word is, the Hairplug That Ate Decency is excited at the prospect of writing a tell-all memoir of his time as President. I think there’s actually real literary potential here; imagine a pompous dolt narrator, utterly lacking in self-awareness, congratulating himself at every turn as he’s rather obviously manipulated by everyone around him. Sadly, I’m sure it’ll mainly be tales of smuggling the Monroe silver out of the White House one piece at a time in the pockets of those weirdly enormous pants. Anyway, just as soon as he learns to read and write, he’s gonna be all over that shit.

So President Ostomy Bag went down to the border today.  Because he is failure, he had no new wall to survey. Because is a fragile, ego-driven, loser, he had himself a plaque made celebrating something he hasn’t achieved.

But because he is also a racist monster, he spewed some of the vilest hate speech you’ll find this side of the Daily Stormer, the very same horrifying, dehumanizing, rhetoric that’s been used throughout history to justify genocide. There’s nothing funny about it at all. Yeah, he’s a clown, and we’ve got him on his heels lately, but never, EVER, forget the raw evil animating this petty little freak and his political movement. He has to be stopped, and you have to help stop him. Yes, YOU.

FUCKING HELL I think this is the longest one I’ve ever written. Hopefully you got a head start on your weekend drinkin’ reading it, I certainly polished off a few beers writing it. Take care of yourselves, Resisters…your country needs you.

PS – So I was working up my taxes, and found myself fumbling around in the app we’ve been using to process beer donations, and it turns out there’s always been a way to respond when somebody sends money, I was just too lazy/drunk/stupid to look for it.

Far and away the shittiest thing about Shower Cap has been how he has neglected to thank y’all for your generosity, but that stops now! I’m dedicating this weekend to catching up on my digital thank yous, which are loooooooong overdue. And I apologize for making you wait, there is simply no excuse.

*Yeah, that’s probably not true, is it? Forgive me if I mess up my history from time to time, I am but a humble dealer in poo jokes.