I don’t say it enough, at least not directly, but boy howdy, I am gettin’ mighty tired of assholes ruining everything. Look, I understand there are always gonna be assholes, that’s unavoidable, but maybe we should stop putting them in charge of shit, on account of the way they ruin everything? Just a thought. Anyway, here are a bunch of stories about assholes ruining everything:

From the highest halls of power to the authenticest Appalachian diner, Republicans are hopping mad that Democrats insist on battling the pandemic, in violation of the sacred right to own the libs by catching, spreading, and dying from a largely preventable disease.

A particularly nihilistic wing of the Senate Republican Conference actually tried to shut the whole frickin’ government down in an attempt to force the Biden Administration to abandon necessary, effective public health measures, and I confess I’m more perplexed than ever at the current state of the generic congressional ballot…call me naive, I just figured “don’t vote for folks that’re actively attempting to kill you” was a universally agreed upon principle.

Also, in the name of freedom from the tyranny of (checks notes) protecting human life, the rural community of Oroville, California (population: 20,000*) proclaimed itself the Legally Seceded Confederate Republic of You’re Not the Boss of Me, Libtard, which is not something you can actually do, but hey, LARPing sure looks fun.

Meanwhile, no doubt sensing the opportunity to swap another couple hundred thousand of their constituents’ lives for a fresh hit to Biden’s approval rating, the GOP is rolling out the red carpet for the shiny new Omicron variant; shit, they’re practically throwing the goddamn thing a cotillion.

Texas Congressjag Ronny Jackson led the charge, swiftly proclaiming Omicron to be a Democrat hoax. This nasty little bit of disinformation, bellowed as it was from atop a mass grave already nearly 800,000 corpses high, was actually even more insidious than it initially appeared, because while Ronny is known primarily as a liar, a drunk, and a drug dealer, he technically is a doctor.

…which is more than can be said of Rand Paul, who nevertheless persists in his ridiculous, self-owning feud with Dr. Anthony Fauci (and objective reality). Rand wants to send America’s Handsomest Epidemiologist to federal prison for the crime of adhering to the findings of science, rather than caving to the widely-debunked conspiracy theories emanating from the lump of rancid yogurt swarming with meth-sodden flies occupying the space between Senator Paul’s ears.

(No doubt wild-eyed Fux Nooz host Lara Logan would go even further, since apparently FAUCI = MENGELE on her planet. When Lara isn’t spreading lies from her Murdoch-provided platform, she enjoys recreationally feuding with the Auschwitz Memorial on Twitter, which is extremely normal behavior.)

Anyway, Rand may soon head up his very own Pompous Quack Caucus, if Dr. Oz can only convince the voters of Pennsylvania to elect a sociopath who lives in New Jersey to represent them in the United States Senate. Oz describes himself as a “moderate Republican,” because while he’s spread his share of disinformation over the years, he’s never marched alongside tiki-torch-bearing white nationalists, which, shit, may well make him TOO “moderate” for the GOP primary electorate, if the outhouse knife fight in neighboring Ohio is any indication.

South Carolina Congressdolt Nancy Mace’s wacky week certainly supports this theory. Mace initially made national headlines belching up anti-vax talking points on Fux, but still soon found herself in a screeching match with CrossFash loon Marjorie Taylor Greene, over caucusmate Lauren Boebert’s unrepentant Islamophobia.

Minority Leader McCarthy handled the intraparty scuffle with his trademark groveling weakness, begging Greene to knock it off, but ultimately proving incapable of mustering the slightest sputtering “hey, quit it” when she marched straight out of his office to tell a reporter she wanted to see Mace ousted in a primary, for insufficient bigotry. The Vainglorious MTG may be a QAnon-spreading fuckwit who believes in Jewish space lasers, but when she defiantly snarls that it’s idiot hate-mongers like herself and Boebert who constitute the GOP “base,” well…something something stopped clocks.

Ol’ Keville Chamberlain did manage to indignantly demand the world accept the apology Boebert categorically refused to make, because while he’s merely useless on his good days, rather than actively harmful, he hasn’t actually had a good day in years. Somebody should remind McCarthy, the last Republican to successfully halt the advance of the Gosar/Boebert/Greene wing of the conservative movement was Dwight D. Eisenhower.

While we shouldn’t allow it to detract from our pleasure in pointing and laughing at his humiliation, the epic failure of former New Jersey Governor/cheapest of all possible thugs Chris Christie’s new book might not be the best news…ideally, his relatively light, “hey, how ‘bout we think about kinda sorta moving on from insurrection guy” message would find a larger audience amongst Republicans than the mere 2,289 copies (YIKES) he managed to move would seem to indicate. On the other hand, fuck Chris Christie. (Lookit me, viewing the issue from both sides, like a regular Chuck Todd.)

So, a couple of Trump-loving gun-humpers figured there was no better Xmas present for their shitty, obviously disturbed kid than a fucking SEMIAUTOMATIC HANDGUN, and surprise, surprise, a few more of America’s children wound up exercising their Second Amendment right to get murdered in school.

The Crumbleys’ other innovative parenting techniques included literally laughing off the most terrifyingly obvious red flags I’ve ever fucking seen, concealing potentially life-saving information from school officials, and going on the lam, leaving their dirtbag son to rot in jail, once they learned their enabling asses would be charged with manslaughter. Anyway, rather than changing any of our insane gun laws, let’s just take this opportunity to preemptively lob meaningless, insincere thoughts n’ prayers at the victims of the next, oh, shall we say, 30 school shootings? We’re all busy people, is all I’m saying.

Several of the nation’s most prominent legal minds tragically drowned making arguments before the new, Anti-Choicey-Barrett-infused wingnut SCOTUS majority, who were unable to contain their tidal wave of salivation now that the opportunity to obliterate reproductive rights finally, FINALLY dropped into their shitty theocrat laps.

Susan Collins expressed concern…that she’d be held responsible for her (indispensable) role in installing this extremist sect on the bench in the first place, particularly that famous, mega-condescending, Look, the Drunken Serial Sexual Assaulter Says He’ll Respect Precedent Once We Grant Him Power Beyond Account and That’s That lecture. You wrote your own legacy, Senator Collins, the rest of us are just reporting it.

Now that his attempt to overthrow the U.S. government has flopped, (shouldn’t have harnessed your fortunes to the fella who couldn’t figure out how to make money in the casino business, brah) Jeffrey Clark plans to plead the Fifth before the January 6th commission, which is fairly irritating, yes, but…I mean, I get it. If I were Jeffrey Clark, I’d be taking advantage of every available protection against self-incrimination, and offering suggestions for new ones. Of course, if I were Jeffrey Clark, I’d live in a dumpster, because I’d be trash, so going to Capitol Hill for a chat would be a refreshing change of pace.

Excavations of the wreckage of the Turd Reich continue to yield fresh horrors, reeking of indecency, criminality, and overcooked steak farts. For example, turns out Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot flunked a Covid test a few days before the first presidential debate, an inconvenient detail he neglected to mention to those whose life he endangered with his mere presence, including a certain gentleman from Scranton who was kicking his ass rather definitively in the polling at the time. Fortunately, Wee Donnie Dotard proved no more competent at biological warfare than he was at electoral politics, pandemic management, or umbrella closing.

(That lil’ tidbit came from Mark Meadows’ new book, which Meadows himself now labels “fake news,” in what the Guinness Book of World Records calls, “the most craven bit of human behavior in all of space and time.” Look out, Senator Graham, Mark’s clearly angling for your post as Prime Cuck, and with it, the prized spot at the foot of the bed.)

Also, it appears the Adderall-Addled Assclown simply stopped accepting his daily classified intelligence briefings after that surprise party he threw for his Vice President on January 6th, likely because he was just too dang busy actively colluding with the wad of treacherous shitweasels at the Willard hotel to worry about petty stuff, like protecting the American public from those who would do us harm. I mean, at the very least, keep an eye on what the competition’s up to, right?

Ron DeSantis feels he’s done such a good job feeding Floridians to the Republican Death God that he deserves a treat: his own personal, private civilian military force, no doubt to be recruited from that pool of former law enforcement types who chose angry internet gibberish over health and employment. What could go wrong?**

Well, friends, it’s the final few days of the ODD YARNS Kickstarter, so pledge now or accept the inevitable lifetime of regret that comes with missing out on the niftiest comic book ever scripted by a political blogger in a luchador mask.

This is gonna be the last comic/Kickstarter for a while, as I retreat to the Shower Cave to work on some exciting, longer projects in 2022, so if you’re looking to support this humble poo joke blog, now’s the time to strike. If you enjoy what I do here, click on over to the Kickstarter page real quick, check out our book, and chip in if you dig what you see. Don’t miss out on the special rewards tiers for blog fans, by the way.

*Until Omicron shows up, anyhow.

**This is actually your homework assignment for the weekend. No less than 10,000 words, have it on my desk by Monday morning***.

***Bribes accepted****.

****IPAs preferred.