Another day in the land of cray…

Hey, before we get started, let me shout out to Pacifist Patriot for that Time cover mockup, I’ve been smiling all day about that. And beyond that, a huge thanks to everybody here at DU, I’m having the time of my life and I’m glad some of you are enjoying this shit. There really is a blog coming soon, I hope you’ll join me there…

ANYHOW.

Forgive me folks, I got a late start today, so if any of the insanity slips through the cracks, it’s just because I’m stuck in this straightjacket, and operating my tablet requires a fairly exhausting series of physical contortions. From what I’ve been able to process, though…shit remains cray.

Hey, did I tell you I have a cat that eats only schadenfreude? And boy howdy, she is getting fucking fat these days. Why, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. (And if this was a musical, I’d tell you IN SONG but it isn’t a musical so fuck off.)

Well, we learned that Strawberry Shartcake has been decorating his clubs with a phony Time Magazine cover, which is the kind of thing only the most confident and secure men do, right?

Seriously, can you imagine? Can you imagine the sort of crushing insecurity that would make a human being create a fake magazine cover to impress the rich idiots who are already paying him to golf? Time asked Shartboy to take the fake covers, apparently on display in at least five Drumpf properties, down, so I can only assume that Admiral Mike Rogers spent most of his morning explaining why he couldn’t have the entire magazine’s staff murdered by ninjas.

Also, a hotel in Toronto paid a fat chunk of money for nothing more than the privilege of scraping Drumpf’s sharty little name off their building. I forget, is it good or bad for your political career when people are willing to flush dollars, even Canadian dollars, down the toilet just to avoid being associated with you?

Oh, and an investigation into the National Park Service revealed that no, nobody at NPS had to doctor any photographs of Ol’ Shartful’s inauguration, it just turns out that not very many folks felt like showing up to to watch America’s first Sack of Donkey Shit President get sworn in.

Furthermore, the Senate Intelligence Committee is getting the famous Comey memos! They’ve also gotten ahold of some 2,000 financial documents from the treasury department related to Orange Julius Caesar and his inner circle. And Roger Stone will be testifying before the House Intelligence Committee next month.

…so, surely it’s a coincidence that Donnie’s closest media allies are taking “Is collaborating with Russia really so bad” out for a test drive. Surely.

Equally coincidental is Paul “Shit, I Was Only Campaign Manager For a Few Months” Manafort suddenly deciding to file some paperwork that’s all “Did I not say I was a foreign agent? My bad, I thought you asked ‘Do I watch The Great British Bakeoff?'”

Most hilariously, after faux-Christian grifter Jay Sekulow became Spraytan Pol Pot’s lawyer and spokesman, he got the Investigative Journalism treatment, and it quickly surfaced that he’s been bilking rubes to finance his family’s high-class lifestyle, and now he’s under investigation HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

…anyhow, you can see why my schadenfreude-eating cat has put on weight.

Shameless Congressassipe Jason Chaffetz formally moved on to the private sector, but not before whinging a bit about how financially challenging it is being a Congressasswipe, and how maybe if he got an extra 2,500 bucks a month for housing, he coulda stuck around and continued to chastise the working poor for owning phones. Weep for poor Jason Chaffetz, who has fallen on such hard times that he must now accept a contract as a Fox News contributor, where he will make god knows how much money to sit behind a desk and continue demonizing the poor, especially those who have been foolish enough not to have been born white and male.

Littlefinger got distracted from the five minutes of diplomacy he was required to conduct with the new Irish Taoiseach (ok, fine, I just learned that word today, you got me.) to hit on a reporter, because Melania smacks him every time he gets grabby, which is bullshit, Kennedy was rolling in pussy, why did I even run for shit job, tell Reince to get me some hookers goddammit!

Scott Pruitt, a relatively minor demon placed in charge of the EPA, had a quickie lil’ meeting with the CEO of Dow, and decided that we didn’t need a silly thing like a ban on a pesticide that damages brain development in fetuses and young children, because who are we to obstruct the free market for something as insignificant as children’s brains?

Sarah Huckabee Sanders continues to prove herself to be the most gleefully willing fascist collaborator in the whole regime. None of Sean Spicer’s half-hearted attempts at logic with SHS; fuck that! Nah, she’ll unhesitatingly call on the world to watch Widely-Known Scatmuncher James O’Keefe’s latest piece of propaganda, even as she acknowledges she can’t vouch for its accuracy. And then, Loki love her, in the very same fucking press event, she can chastise the media for Fake News or some shit. And suddenly Alan Moore is forced to rewrite V FOR VENDETTA, because his propagandists seem too subtle and honest to be credible.

Mitch McConnell’s Malicious Maneuver towards Mass Murder continues to hit snags, so turtle tears are plentiful tonight.

A bunch of polls came out showing that Mitch’s bill is about as popular as getting a lap dance from rusty lawnmower. Seriously, everybody shows this bill with below 20% approval, with nearly half of the country “strongly” disapproving, which you have to assume means the polled were screaming FUCK NO I DON’T WANT TO DIE JUST SO SHELDON ADELSON CAN HAVE HIS CHILDHOOD HOME BRONZED at the pollsters.

Anyhow, there’s plenty of opposition, from the lunatic right and also from the begrudgingly-admitting-that-poor-people-might-be-almost-human center. Shit, even Jerry, “The Invisible Senator” Moran came out against it, and Mitch makes Jerry sleep in a crate if Jerry ever tries to speak on the floor of the Senate.

Apparently there was a GOP conference lunch today where the moderates and the conservatives got together to shout at each other, and they couldn’t even agree on who would get to be the Jets or the Sharks, but Yertle seems to think they can have a new bill by Friday. In related news, my seven-volume novel about the tribulations of an orphan boy navigating the complex politics of the Spanish Civil War, of which I have not so much as a treatment finished, will also be ready by Friday.

(I seriously don’t want to get cocky about any of this, because the House showed us that these fucks have a tremendous will to fuck over the poor in the name of tax cuts for their donors, but tonight, I’m going take a moment to enjoy another round of pieces on how the Shart of the Deal can’t get shit done. WaPo’s is particularly gloaty.)

Meanwhile, the best the folks over at Pravda, excuse me, “Fox News” can come up with is, “Well shit, we’re all gonna die anyhow, why bother with insurance?” I seriously pinched myself seven times watching that video, so I’m fairly certain it actually happened.

Oh hey, didja see that video the National Rifle Association released today? Nice to see the folks who’ve been working for ISIS are starting to get freelance work. Seriously though, that is some horrifying shit, it’s about a step and a half away from “It’s okay to murder your neighbor if they voted for Hilldawg,” and it’s one of the most bone-chilling things I’ve ever watched in my life. (And I watched election night last November, soooooooooooo…)

Desperate to seem effective in any way, however small, the Candycorn Skidmark shot his mouth off about “liberating towns” from foreign gangs. Hell, even Sean Hannity’s not gonna pick that one up, Shart-Shart. Seriously. Name a town you’ve “liberated.” (No, “Brigadoon” is not a real town.)

I saw a late article about how Secretary of State T-Rex got mad and yelled at some Shart House staff about how their incompetence is making his incompetence harder or some shit. Boo fucking hoo. All your names are going to be carved on a monument that the country will use as a public restroom for generations to come. If you serve this ethically vacant administration, your descendants will renounce your name for the raw shame of it, who the fuck cares if you’re having a slap fight over inconsequential shit? Fuck all y’all.

Of course there’s more. There’s always more. Forgive me, I’m dealing with the emotional fallout of watching my beloved Bryzzo standing, smiling, next to everyone’s least favorite Poop Mistake. I’ll pick up the slack later in the week…one way or another, don’t forget to VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS.

Love you all…

The Ferret, aka Shower Cap