Don’t let the lamestream liberal media fool you, ladies, Donald Trump will be your protector. (“Protector” is a synonym for “rapist,” right? I missed a few English classes, back in the day.)

Now, don’t worry your pretty little heads over the fine print, but some exclusions do apply. No protection will be offered to “dumb as a rock bimbos” like MSNBC’s Stephanie Ruhle, obviously. Should, at any point, any blood come out of your wherever, protection will be rescinded.

Women who recount their sexual assault at Trump’s hands in election season ads probably shouldn’t get their hopes up, though there’s certainly strength in numbers.

Otherwise, you’re in for so dang much protection, “you will no longer be thinking about abortion,” mostly because you’ll be jailed for criticizing the illegitimate SCOTUS majority that stole your bodily autonomy rights in the first place.

Protection of Ukrainian women is to be outsourced to Vladimir Putin. Haitian women are to be preserved as scapegoats, and fodder for the Two Minutes Hate, have fun with that.

Incidentally, it’s no longer just Springfield, OH basking in the warmth of Off-Brand Orbán’s magnanimous protection, (and maybe bomb threats aren’t considered symbols of security in whatever shithole you’re from, but when you’re here in ‘Murica, you’ll do things our way, by gum) now Aurora, CO and Charleroi, PA’re getting a taste of the immigrant-demonizing fun, too.

“Gosh, Mom, d’ya think maybe someday, Donald Trump might terrorize the migrants in our town with a reckless campaign of racist lies?”

“Well, Timmy, if you eat your peas, and he gets tired of watching people leave his boring-ass rallies early because even a cultist can endure just so much ranting about Kamala Harris inventing a fake McDonald’s career for whatever reason, and if you boo Zelensky really hard, anything’s possible in America!”

Truly anything. Why, for the first time since Steve King, a Republican Congressman was officially deemed…too racist! Poor, dumb Clay Higgins must’ve fallen asleep at the back of the ghost bus during the meeting, he figured anything shy of the N word was fair game.

Clay tweeted out a little locker room talk, assuming the locker in question stores Klan robes. To hear Moses Johnson tell it, the backlash drove Higgins deep into prayer, where I guess God told him to delete the post, while offering a defiant non-apology, which was good enough for the Speaker, who believes in redemption…for unrepentant bigots.

Speaking of, Mike Lindell offered his Hitlerest discount code to date, pitching shoddy pillows to savvy white supremacists at the low, low, (and subtle, subtle) price of $14.88. Lindell claims this embrace of widely known neo-Nazi symbolism is mere coincidence, and golly, as the only lackluster bedding merchant to participate in the attempted overthrow of the federal government, I figure he’s earned the benefit of the doubt.

Free speech absolutist Elon Musk has taken to banning Xwitter accounts that share the leaked opposition dossier the Dotard campaign ignored in lashing themselves to the electoral anchor some call JD Vance. Solid plan, bro. Now if you can just figure out some way to purge the information superhighway of every single trace of every single moment of Vance’s time as a public figure, he can begin the long, arduous climb out of the Lollapalooza outhouse where his approval numbers currently reside.

You’ll probably want to start with all the things he used to say about “America’s Hitler,” before he came to see greater profit potential in obsequious hate-mongering. Don’t miss these new revelations, when JD groused his future running mate “thoroughly failed to deliver on his economic populism” amidst the multitudinous other debacles of his disastrous term.

Then you’d best scrub all evidence of the company Vance keeps, lest the public discover his pal Tucker Carlson’s conversations with Roseanne Barr, about how us libs eat not just cats and dogs, but human babies. (Please. As if I could afford baby in this economy.) Probably wise to preemptively sweep his upcoming appearance on Christofascist Lance Wallnau’s traveling blasphemy tour under the rug, too.

Oh, and make sure to wipe out the egg thing! JD had the grocery store set up just how he likes it, full of normal, human shoppers primed for the normal, human interactions that are his forte, plus plenty of egg cartons, astronomically marked up, in Kamala’s own handwriting, but alas, tricksy Haitian migrants switched the price tags a split second before the cameras started rolling.

Those bastards at Newsmax settled their defamation suit with Smartmatic, cheating us out of what would’ve been an absolutely hilarious trial. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see these voting machine companies get the justice they’re owed, but just once, we deserve to watch some scumbag lawyer squirm their way through “well, Your Honor, uncritically platforming the nonsensical ravings of a self-proclaimed ‘cactus artist’ seemed like solid journalistic practice at the time, because, um…wow, we really didn’t settle, huh?”

RFK Jr. has managed to keep busy since dropping out of the Presidential race, fighting to get added to some state’s ballots, but removed from others, depending on his rapey new boss’ needs, while using his platform as a campaign surrogate to raise awareness for a cause near and dear to every right-thinking patriot’s heart: American teens’ decreased sperm count. Big congrats to any and all journalists who may’ve blown up their careers sexting this whale-decapitating, teen-sperm-count-obsessed nepo baby.

The dastardly Deep State treacherously targeted Democratic New York City Mayor Eric Adams, in retribution for kinda sorta staking out ground in the general vicinity of Trump’s position on immigration, surely. Particularly wily of them to entrap Adams into leaving a genuinely buffoonish trail of evidence of his crimes, but that’s how they getcha.

I see Rudy Giuliani collided with yet another branch on his long, slow, slapstick plummet from the Tree of Consequences, getting officially disbarred in Washington, D.C. And while I certainly enjoyed that, he’s been disbarred before, y’know? I need new, boundary-pushing Rudy comeuppance content, ideally some sort of pratfall into livestock excrement. Fresher the better, if I’m allowed requests.

In the unlikely event that there’s a spare hundred grand in your bank account after the Trump Bucks and Bibles and NFTs, (to say nothing of the tithe for your portion of the Turd Emperor’s massive legal debts) well, why not piss it away on a shitty Trump watch? Take a number and form a reasonably orderly throng at the trough, ya fuckin’ rubes.

Mass resignations rocked Mark Robinson’s “gubernatorial campaign,” likely owing to the staff’s fear of getting pissed on, cuz the Nazi stuff didn’t seem to bother anybody when the candidate was enthusiastically bellowing “some folks need killing.” Reports that Robinson vindictively peed at/upon departing staffers as they fled are unconfirmed at press time, though rumors abound over at Nude Africa.

In a probable violation of House ethics rules, freshman Republican Congresscreep Anthony D’Esposito hired both his lover and his fiancée’s daughter, a scandal so quaint and old-fashioned as to merit bullying within the feral MAGA caucus. “Whatsamatter, Anthony? Scared to take a high school girl to a drug-fueled sex party? Oh, you’ve got a mistress? That’s adorable, have you paid for her abortion yet? Call me when you get caught trying to bribe staffers into carrying your child, dork.”

Like, look at Marjorie Taylor Greene’s boyfriend, urging people to ethnically profile voters at their local precinct, and still has time to Karen the fuck out over being denied bottomless salad bar privileges at Jason’s Deli. You’re a fucking amateur, D’Esposito.

Lindsey Graham took a little weekend getaway to Nebraska, hoping to convince the state’s Republicans to change the rules at the last possible moment, to award the Dotard the 2nd district’s electoral vote without all that pesky democracy. Lindsey being Lindsey, he failed completely, the latest setback in his quest to reclaim that spot at the foot of the bed down in Marm-a-Lago from Jason Miller.

Tommy Tuberville referred to Vice President Harris as “the first-ever AI presidential candidate,” further evidence that there are no more than nine words in the entire English language he understands. In a different time and place, be would’ve called her the “Y2K candidate,” or the “Syringe in a Pepsi Can candidate.”

A Harris campaign office in Tempe, Arizona was damaged by gunfire, prompting soul-searching, apologies, and a movement-wide pledge throughout MAGA culture to tone down the anti-Democratic rhetoric. Or at least that’s what the flying pig told me.

Apparently, Mitt Romney is preparing for life as an enemy of the state under a restored Turd Reich, bullet-proofing the car elevator, bodyguards for the dressage horses, that sort of thing. Shame he won’t enjoy the same protection as all those lucky ladies, don’tcha think?

Alex Jones’ ill-gotten assets are, at long last, to be auctioned off to pay the $1.4 billion he owes the Sandy Hook families he terrorized for years. I’m thinking about making an offer, so forgive me for rattling the ol’ tip jar a little more vigorously this week.

Normally, I ask for a few bucks for beer money, (now accepting Venmo, Cash App and PayPal, by the way) but in my quest to lead Jones’ misguided flock back to the light, I may have to match InfoWars’ full street value, currently estimated as high as $42.58 plus those expired soup cans at the back of the pantry you’ve been meaning to throw out.

Or, as always, support these blatherings for free, by sharing ‘em on social media, signing up on the email list at showercapblog.com, or following @john_luzar over at the House Elon Wrecked. And for the love of Pete, stay safe out there, my friends…