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’ll Have to Pry the Post Office From Our Cold Dead Hands, You Fucks
You may be trapped inside your home, but you know you can’t escape the madness. No, it’s all around you, it’s been renewed for three more seasons on Netflix, it’s pissing in your last container of Lysol wipes, it’s arriving on your very doorstep right this minute via no-contact delivery. Don’t believe me? Read on…
The Failing New York Times succeeded in thoroughly documenting Hairplug Himmler’s lost weeks of criminal failure and insidious obfuscation as the coronavirus spread from coast to coast, and I don’t know how even the most sycophantic Senate stooge (lookin’ at YOU, Lindsey) can read that shit without whimsically wondering about the world that might have been if they’d only removed the overmatched crotchwart when they had the chance. It’s deeply insane, that we’re still allowing this malicious clod to run shit after fucking up so badly; he’s certainly not done getting Americans killed with his malfeasance. There’s an escape hatch, but Mitch Fucking McConnell holds the keys, so sorry folks, the dying will continue until the approval rating improves.
Because they are as sinister as they are incompetent, Republicans gazed out at the ever-growing mound of bodies they’d built with their negligence, and thought not, “Holy fucking shit, we are monsters who should never show our faces in public again,” but “Say, this seems like a fantastic opportunity to drown the US Postal Service in a bathtub full of the hand sanitizer we’re withholding from blue state hospitals.” So now we have still another battle to fight, because this white supremacist hate cult figures putting an additional half million folks out of work is a small price to pay to keep Americans from voting safely, from home, by mail. There’s gotta be some fine print we haven’t seen on that “pro-life” thing, y’know?
Shit wasn’t awful enough with the pandemic punching you in one kidney while the economy kicks you in the other, well, meet MAGA Mengele! Yes, Robin Armstrong, a well-connected Texas Republigoon, figured a nursing home full of COVID-19 patients was the perfect playground to test out Doctor Dotard’s miracle elixir, hydroxychloroquine. And hey, if some his lab rats, excuse me, “patients” are suffering from dementia and can’t consent to being experimented on, honestly, what’s one stray grandma more or less, anyway?
By the way, if you’re wonderin’ why Peter Navarro is walking funny this week, it’s because he went on 60 Minutes to try a little Diet Trump Now With Splenda attack on the media, and the show’s producers shoved a fat stack of receipts straight up his weaselly autocrat ass. Poor Pete, and it’s tough to find Preparation H in the Shart House, the bossman positively guzzles the stuff.
The lamestream librul media is always going on and on about gun control, because of their mistaken belief that the Constitution values children’s lives more than Uncle Dumbfuck’s “right” to collect semi-automatic murder machines in order to compensate for his micropenis, but we just saw the first March since 2002 without a single school shooting, and we didn’t take away a single gun, NO, all we had to do was shut down every school in the country, CHECKMATE, LIBTARDS.
Some withered hate raisin called Bill Bennett became the latest creep to slither out onto Fux Nooz to parrot the ol’ “COVID-19 is just a flu that got uppity” horseshit, and to his credit, at least he didn’t trip over any corpses while the camera was on. This dope was actually Secretary of Education under that one fellow who used to make monkey movies, and following that line on down to Betsy DeVos, let’s just say I’m beginning to doubt the conservative commitment to learning.
Everyone enjoyed a good, sturdy, belly laugh when we saw the flock of buttholes Strawberry Shartcake hand-selected for his Council to Reopen Murica. Secretary Mnuchbag? Fugitive Gringotts Embezzler Wilbur Ross? Princess Ivanka and Jar-Jar? It’s like the kids who got held back a year at Arkham Asylum. Yeah, everybody chuckled…until we remembered these clowns actually get to make decisions that affect our very lives. Hah hah…hee…ho…fuck.
Well, the Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor took to Twitter to declare himself King of All the Governors, and insist that he can overrule their coronavirus orders, which is about as true as the “weight” line on a physical written up by Dr. Ronny Jackson. I’m starting to wonder if, among his other psychological defects, Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops doesn’t also possess a pathological addiction to humiliating public defeats. Not exactly an ideal leadership trait, but it would explain some shit.
Yes, Sharty McFly is gettin’ itchy to reopen the economy (bless his heart, he imagines we’ll forgive and forget the whole “caused the deaths of tens of thousands” thing) even if he has to go door to door and push us all back out into the hot zone, excuse me, the “workforce” himself, with his own tiny, inadequate, little hands. Sorry dotard, the economy isn’t like that high-tech sex doll you had made to look like Ivanka; it doesn’t obey your every command.
Even by the batshit carny standards of the Daily Propaganda Spew, Monday night’s “press briefing” was…wow. It was like the movie BIG, only the kid was the shittiest third grade playground bully in the world, and instead of having heartwarming adventures at FAO Schwartz, he ate half a pound of Adderall and crashed the economy.
Seems all of this reporting on Littlefinger’s calamitous mismanagement has gotten under that paper-thin skin of his and he felt the appropriate way to handle things was to hijack the prime time airwaves to air a (ridiculous) campaign video, and then shit his pants on national television for something like six hours.
The Pusillanimous Pussygrabber petulantly proclaimed his presidential power to be…”absolute,”* and then when a reporter went “LOL, that’s not true, but please explain to the folks at home just why you think so, dumbass,” he started gettin’ all pissy. When a female reporter confronted him on his cavalcade of corona cockups, he melted down like a butter sculpture of Jabba the Hutt. Y’know, if someone had told him up front that being President would involve taking questions from lady reporters, many of whom would even be non-white lady reporters, we probably would’ve been spared this whole shitshow.
(If you really wanna find out how combustible that spray-on tan lotion is, somebody should ask him to explain just how he “inherited” faulty tests for a virus that DIDN’T FUCKING EXIST UNTIL 2019. He’s like a child who breaks mom’s favorite vase, and tries to blame it on the dog that died five years ago.)
But yeah, the Velveeta Vulgarian’s theory of his office seems to be, as the Genie from Aladdin might put it, PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER over stupid governors, itty bitty responsibility to actually help anyone anywhere with anything. Donald Trump is essentially Reverse Spider-Man.
Hilariously, Fat Q*bert seems hellbent on heading into November doing battle with a small army of defiant governors, heroically protecting their citizens from a deranged narcissist seeking to force millions to risk their lives for the sake of his own political future. Mama Trump didn’t raise no honor students, I suppose.
Indiana Congressghoul Trey Hollingsworth is certainly in his Turd Emperor’s corner on this issue, insisting that a nationwide surge in preventable deaths would be “the lesser of two evils” when compared with the suffering of the poor, put-upon, Republican donor class. I wonder if Trey has noticed that his constituents aren’t corporations, but actual people. And then I also wonder if Trey’s constituents have noticed how cheaply he values their lives. Anyway, get busy dyin’, you worthless serfs!
It wasn’t so long ago when Trumpist Republican Governor Kristi L. Noem smugly proclaimed that her state didn’t need no stupid cuck “social distancing” or “shelter in place orders” because “South Dakota is not New York City,” only it turned out South Dakota was totally New York City, in that it was a place where coronavirus would happily take of advantage of any idiots willing to help it spread. And so she’s now the proud chief executive of a state with one of the most disastrous COVID-19 outbreaks in the nation, one which has shut down one of our largest pork-processing plants, threatening the entire country’s food supply. I’m starting to think “We’re not the idiots who got a bunch of people killed” is going to be a potent bit of political messaging for Dems this fall.
Speaking of chiclet-brained GOP governors, Ron DeSantis keeps popping up on this page so much I’m worried he’s gonna start charging me royalty fees. In his quest to prove himself the Floridaest Man of All, Ron-Ron proclaimed World Wrestling Entertainment, oh-so-coincidentally owned by major Trump donors the McMahon family, an “essential business,” even as the victims of his murderously bungled coronavirus response discover that they don’t count as “essential humans” to their nitwit governor. Perhaps DeSantis will run for reelection as the Man Who Body-Slammed Common Sense.
Wisconsin Republicans, aided by the Roberts Court, had been having a grand old time, whacking away at the piñata of voting rights, but when they finally busted it open, it was full of week-old Guernsey shit that doused the lot of them. Yes, the plot to ride a wave of coronavirus-fearing voter suppression backfired, as liberal Jill Karofsky vanquished a Scott-Walker-appointed incumbent with a margin that filled many a diaper on Weehands McNodick’s reelection team. It’s not just an enormous victory, it’s a preview of coming attractions, you evil fucks.
And yeah, turns out the Tangelo-Tinted Taint Tumor doesn’t understand the classic film, Mutiny on the Bounty. Gable version OR Brando version. Doddering old nincompoop doesn’t get pants, neckties, steaks, or umbrellas, asking him to interpret cinema is like asking an avocado what it thinks of the Taj Mahal.
Anyway, at Tuesday’s DPS**, Shart Garfunkel announced he was defunding the World Health Organization (yes, during a global outbreak) and then read the names of a bunch of companies. So yeah, he’s still crazy, and we’re still trapped here with him, in Hell. Oh well. The beer truck still shows up.
But enough bad news, who needs that shit? We have got ourselves a UNIFIED DEMOCRATIC PARTY, and it’s only April, muthafuckaaaaas! We got Joe. We got Bernie. We got the big gun, Barack Obama, makin’ that slow walk from the bullpen. The dustbin of history is waiting juuuuuust around the corner for all the crooked bastards squatting in our house. Get the damn broom.
Ok Shower Captives, that’s all I’ve got tonight, except for a burning desire to disappear for a few hours into pretentious movies and a six-back of Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’. Stay safe out there, see y’all soon.
*Stupid B. I was on a roll.
**Daily Propaganda Spew, remember?