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.
Ryan Zinke is like if the crappiest robot in Westworld escaped and jumped into conservative politics. He’s such a cartoon cowboy, I bet his right boot says “Andy” on the bottom.
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.
You Know What They Say: A Bleach Enema a Day Keeps the COVID Away!
Well, the shelter-in-place orders are getting extended, and human civilization is a rapidly-fading memory. But we can still gather ‘round a campfire digitally, dammit, and we don’t even need to wear masks! So pour yourself a tall, frosty, glass of bleach, and let’s look back on another week in Hell.
Like most folks, I spend very little time thinking about the mayors of cities where I don’t live. But after Las Vegas Mayor Carolyn Goodman’s breakout media tour this week, I’m starting to wonder if I’m not missing out on some restaurant-quality lunacy. Like, maybe Cleveland is run by some flat-earther who only travels by unicycle? Did Fargo perhaps elect a semi-retired rodeo clown with a penchant for public nudity? Shit, for all I know, the Mayor of Topeka is a macaw that lives on Nutter Butters and Listerine. What’ve all you zany municipalities been holding out on us, huh?
But you’ve all got a lotta work to do if you wanna catch up to Goodman in terms of raw batshittiness. Offering the good citizens of Vegas up as a “control group,” she wants to turn the Strip into a COVID-19 playground, and if a few thousand people get sick and die, well ya gotta go sometime, right, but Carolyn will not be joining you in the petri dish, thanks for asking, she has a family, and that family matters, unlike all those sacrificial plebs. I feel like volunteering your constituents for potentially lethal experiments is unwise politically, but ultimately, I am simply a drunken goofball wearing a luchador mask, so feel free to ignore me.
While Hairplug Himmler’s haphazard coronavirus response has been filled with blunders and contradictions, one aspect has been depressingly constant: purging the government of qualified professionals with actual medical and scientific expertise. He threatened to fire a leading CDC official, blaming her public warnings for a stock market dip, because you can always pretend the Dow Jones is soaring when your head is firmly buried in the sand. And Dr. Rick Bright, the dude who was in charge of the federal agency working on the coronavirus vaccine, got shitcanned for the high crime of refusing to pimp Littlefinger’s bullshit hydroxychloroquine miracle cure. Oh well. I’m sure developing vaccines is super-easy work and pretty much anybody off the street could do Dr. Bright’s job. I hear Alex Cora is available.
Meanwhile, to replace all those stupid cuck doctors and scientists, Alex Azar hired a labradoodle breeder to head up the coronavirus task force. Now, at first glance, that probably seems like a joke, what with the delightful specificity of the word “labradoodle,” but no, this is real life, and here in the real world, the immunologists with years of experience are out, and the labradoodle breeders are in. Hope you weren’t planning on leaving the house any time soon, we’re gonna be here awhile. We are, dare I say it…labradoomed.
There are so few pleasures available to us in these godawful times, but watching Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s craven Republican enablers get flung under the bus for their obsequious attempts to please him is certainly at the top of the list. In the case of Georgia Governor Brian Kemp, they filled the bus up with elephants and cartoon anvils first, and then threw him under it. See, Kemp figured if he was the very first governor to reopen his state’s economy, his Turd Emperor would pat him on the head, maybe even let him sleep at the foot of the bed, in Lindsey Graham’s spot, for a night or two. Alas, there was no head pat, only a steam-powered taint punt, delivered live, in prime time. Maybe Brian can console himself with an I Got Hundreds of My Constituents Killed and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt kinda thing.
Most of this blog targets Republicans, and that’s because they fucking well deserve it, but in the interest of fairness, I think it’s important to call out Democrats when they falter. Therefore, it is with a heavy heart that I draw your attention to the Lovecraftian horror that is Senator Mark Warner’s tuna melt recipe. Honestly, we need bipartisan investigations here. Dems, we MUST be better than this.
Mitch McConnell looked upon the economy that his party had created, with its shuttered storefronts and 26 million newly unemployed, and declared that it was good enough! He further proclaimed that he favored states going into bankruptcy over any further “blue state bailouts.” (And yes, he said this from the perch he’s earned from decades of leeching blue state cash for his old Kentucky home. Shame is dead, did you miss that meeting?) Andrew Cuomo responded by asking Yertle just where, precisely, on his wrinkly ol’ shell he would like his second asshole torn, though he did not wait for an answer before commencing said tearing.
Like the goober sitcom husband who buys his wife the power tool/talking fish plaque/dog butler statue that he himself wanted for her “birthday present,” Fat Q*Bert announced that U.S. military planes would conduct flyovers in as many as 30 cities, allegedly to show support for medical professionals, at the cost of more than $60,000 per hour, billed to all us chump taxpayers, of course. That money could pay for a whole lotta much-needed PPE, but PPE won’t fluff a demented old asshat’s ego, so y’know…hope you enjoy the window-rattling roar of jet engines while you risk your lives, health care workers!
Anyway, the big story is that basically every public figure, news organization, and household cleaning supplies manufacturer had to spend the day frantically shouting PLEASE DON’T DRINK BLEACH YOU WILL DIE because of something the President of the United States said on live television, in case anybody is interested in traveling back in time to 2016 to slap one of those “how bad can things possibly get?” types.
Yes, Dr. Dotard, still desperately searching for the medical equivalent of Daddy’s Money Bailing Him Out of Trouble, casually suggested that maybe mainlining Lysol, chugging Clorox, or shooting Tilex directly into your fucking eyeball will cure COVID-19 so everybody can get back to golfing and/or paying taxes so their grifter President can profit from golfing.
So here we are. It seems like only yesterday we were laughing at Sean Spicer’s sad little crowd size lies, and now President Jim Jones But Dumber stands at his bully pulpit and tells Americans to swallow poison. Since SWALLOWING POISON is a partisan issue now, I guess I’m prouder than ever to be a Democrat, but somebody should formally add that shit to the party platform, alongside distressingly-necessary entries like “Democracy is good” and “Nazis are not, in fact, very fine people.”
Shart Garfunkel further suggested ultraviolet light as another magical corona-b-gone solution, which is equally stupid, but at least a little less dangerous. I say that now, but I certainly won’t be surprised if a handful of “Florida man hospitalized with shattered UV bulb up his ass” stories popped up over the weekend.
The Candycorn Skidmark tried to lie his way out of YouShouldDrinkBleachGate by claiming he was simply playing a hilarious prank on the White House press corps, and no one even pretended to believe him. These are the consequences for lying about stupid shit like “Yo-Yo Ma called me up yesterday just to say he wishes he could play the cello as good as me,” you bloated twit.
Uncanny Valley Centerfold Stephen Miller is passing the time in quarantine by phoning up his dirtbag white nationalist pals to fantasize about using the pandemic as an excuse to further increase immigration restrictions, and between this and the bleach thing, the Turdmaggot Administration’s commitment to whitening America cannot be doubted.
So, one of the biggest reasons we’re looking at a body count of 50,000 and rising, with no end in sight, is that the Marmalade Shartcannon blindly accepted, and indeed dutifully parroted the Chinese government’s lying propaganda, refusing to prepare while the COVID-19 tiptoed through America’s tulips from coast to fucking coast. And now it turns out, he owes TWO HUNDRED AND ELEVEN MILLION DOLLARS to the state-owned Bank of China? And the bill’s due in 2022? I’d say there should be laws against this sort of thing, but of course there already are, it’s just that the GOP is too gleefully corrupt to enforce them.
Hilariously, the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus’ current general election strategy is to paint Smilin’ Joe Biden as…weak on China. Not sure Mr. “You’ll get your money, President Xi, anyway, what was it you wanted me to say on TV? I tried to write it down but I forgot, I’m basically illiterate” wants to pick that particular fight, but I am happy watch him try.
The Failing New York Times took a peek behind the curtain at the Shart House, offering us a little taste of the Lifestyles of the Dumb and Narcissistic in this age of coronavirus. Basically the Offal in the Oval is either bellowing his way through the Daily Propaganda Spew, or obsessively watching coverage of himself on television, which he then goes on to whine about at the next DPS, like a shitty, spray-tanned, ouroboros, choking on its too-long necktie.
There’s probably more, but my God, the weekend is so close I can fucking taste it. I need that weekend, folks. Need it. Neeeeeed it. Stay safe, and I’ll see y’all next week!
PS – The meme in tonight’s post is not one of my own making, which is my usual policy. Found it on the Tweetymachine, and I don’t know who to credit for it, but thanks, whoever you are, I owe you a beer!