I dunno how much more of this I can take, Resisters. I keep buying calendars and tearing off all the pages between now and next January, hoping I can trick time into letting me skip ahead because the only thing I want from life anymore is one week where I don’t have to look at the news, not even once. This is not that week.

Well, the United States continues digging its ever-deepening hole, as we dementedly seek the Gem of Ultimate COVID Madness which Jules Verne theorized is waiting for us at the center of the Earth. While it would be nice to get out of this hole at some point, the federal government won’t give us any tools except shovels made of crystallized stupidity, which I’m told a company owned by Steve Mnuchin invested in heavily.

You touch the stove, you burn your hand, you stop touching the stove; that’s how it’s supposed to work. American culture burns the left hand, burns the right hand, burns both feet, and still bombastically demands the “freedom” to sit bare-assed on the stove. American culture is already fantasizing about teabagging the stove tomorrow; that’ll own the libs for sure.

And nowhere in America do the fires of freedumb burn any brighter (duller?) than in Florida. Ron DeSantis’ Sid-and-Marty-Krofft-esque COVID playground announced 15,300 new cases in just one day, more than even New York saw when shit was looking positively apocalyptic, only Ron-Ron had every opportunity to learn from NY’s mistakes, and instead decided “nah, I’d really rather get a bunch of my constituents killed in order to follow the obviously terrible example set by the deranged head of my party, a visibly-deteriorating nitwit literally everyone understands to be dangerously wrong on this crucial issue.”

Considering this batshit state of affairs in Florida, as well as other GOP-led states hot zones like Texas and Arizona, I would like to humbly suggest that you vote Democrat this November…if you want to live.

We learned that back in 2017, when we should have impeached and removed Tangerine Idi Amin for his genocidal neglect of Puerto Rico in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria, the blithering dolt actually proposed selling the island rather than dealing with the hassle of doing anything to help all those pesky non-white American citizens suffering there. Y’know, if you were to take this extremely emblematic mashup of casual bigotry and criminal laziness and dip it in some shitty white chocolate, you’d have yourself an official Trump-branded candy bar.

I trust everyone is enjoying this super-fun, hyper-normal debate we’re having in America right now, over how many children (and teachers) should be required to die for Donald Trump’s re-election campaign. Friends, we are as fucked as we’ve ever been, trapped in here as we are with this madman who would happily see us all dead if it meant keeping out of prison. And he can’t run for re-election on his record, because his record is a historic disaster, (dare I even say, in my best David Attenborough voice, an historic disaster) and so we’re left dealing with this insane EVERYTHING’S NORMAL WOULD YOU KINDLY JUMP IN THE SHARK-INFESTED WATERS gambit, and of course it wouldn’t be such a big deal except for the tens of millions of brainwashed idiots who will do whatever the fuck he tells them to, and the fact that they can carry the sharks home to eat grandma and grandpa. We’re FUCKED, is my point.

And of course Betsy DeVos stands, bloody and cackling amidst the carnage, delighted to finally have a chance to not just torment peasant children, but end their lives. Let’s just say I have some suspicions that her Build Schools Out of Delicious Gingerbread initiative truly has our kids’ best interests at heart. Meanwhile, Louisiana Senator/Faux Fun Uncle John Kennedy invites any wussy cuck libtards who think children’s lives matter more than the failed, fascist GOP’s immediate electoral future to kiss his ass. Teachers are writing motherfucking WILLS, and Republican officials are buying popcorn at the concession stand, waiting to cheer along as they die.

Tucker Carlson came off about as believable as Bob Balaban playing Dirty Harry in his Whoops I Hired a White Supremacist Lead Writer Oh Well Gonna Go Trout Fishing non-apology, which was really more of a lament for the poor white supremacist boy who lost his job and aren’t the real villains the reporters who exposed the most shittily-kept secret in cable news? Bro, WE KNOW. You hired a white supremacist to write white supremacist shit because what you do for a living is say white supremacist shit to the delight of white supremacists. There is not one human being who knows your work who does not understand this. We do these weird little ritual dances where everyone pretends to be shocked and you go trout fishing and then you come back and start belching up white supremacist bile again, but we all understand what’s going on. Let’s dispense with the theatre; we’d all save so much TIME.

Anyway, I don’t want to move on without pointing out that Liar Tuck’s now ex-hatescribe, Blake Neff, is of course one of those cartoonishly schlubby nazi nerds who radiates so much mediocrity that you can’t help but giggle when they claim racial superiority. Kid, you look like the product of artificial insemination using semen scrapped off the urinal in a meth lab and an ovum from a pot-bellied pig; you are a walking billboard blaring that yours cannot possibly be the master race, for it contains you.

Well, eleventy-five weeks into the coronavirus crisis, the Turdmaggot Administration is finally ramping up the campaign…against Dr. Anthony Fauci. Y’see, President Crotchvoid is jealous that Fauci’s approval numbers are better than his (and I haven’t looked into the crosstabs or anything, but I suspect this has something to do with one dude actively facilitating the senseless deaths of tens of thousands, and the other dude trying to stop that shit, but it may ultimately just be a beauty contest) and therefore our leading epidemiologist must be undermined, causing further distrust in science, blah blah blah trickling down to MORE DEAD AMERICANS. Got that? Don-Don jealous of Science Man, therefore MORE DEAD AMERICANS. Electing a narcissist was a mistake.

While the executive branch of the United States government works to destroy their own expert’s credibility, one voice Doctor Dotard is amplifying is fellow mentally-disintegrating game show host Chuck Woolery, one of those z-list celebrities that redpilled himself into intellectual oblivion and now shares a brain with James Woods. I bring this up in case you’re wondering what your president does with the time he isn’t using to read his daily briefings or end the crisis that’s had you locked in your home since what feels like prehistory.

Chief of Staff Mark Meadows might get around to doing something about the pandemic someday, but he’s a little busy right now setting sub-Encyclopedia-Brown-level traps in his pathetically futile effort to uncover the leakers that’ve been keeping America informed about all the lethal hijinks and deadly fuck-ups going down on the RMS Shartanic. Your mom must be proud, Mark.

Now, as a person who likely wants to see schools reopen and sporting events return, and who also wants to, y’know, SURVIVE TILL NEXT YEAR, these priorities are probably rather upsetting to you, but if you really expected Sharty McFly to care more about 140,00 dead Americans than the ego laceration that comes from millions of people learning what a Bunker Bitch he is, you apparently haven’t even glanced at the news in four years, and can I say I deeply fucking envy that.

So, a gun industry lobbyist that successfully burrowed his way into the Hell Yes We’re For Sale…Cheap! Administration finally got a ban on selling silencers to private buyers abroad overturned, a move the military says threatens our troops’ safety, but I think recent headlines have proven that’s hardly a dealbreaker for our treacherous Commander in Chief. Might as well make a tidy profit selling equipment to the assassins collecting those Russian bounties, right?

Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo is rattling a cheap plastic toy saber, likely from a small child’s Halloween costume, a pirate or something, at China, and one has to wonder, does he really believe America is feared and respected under the leadership of a world-renowned clod? Or is he leaning into the God Knows What the Dangerous Idiot Will Do If You Make Him Mad strategy, basically the North Korea model only with a superpower’s arsenal? Or, most likely, is he simply trying to generate a little buzz for Wee Don’s lame new “China Joe” nickname? Can’t wait for the grown-ups to take over State again, can you?

Obviously exhausted from the all the golf and murder, to say nothing of the polls showing his sweet, sweet legal immunity is rapidly running out, and stripped of his precious rallies, Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet is a shadow of his former self, half-heartedly attempting to compare his Monthslong Coronavirus Fuckup Spectacular to the Obama/Biden H1N1 response, and whatever. At this point your shrinking rube army is so brainwashed and beaten down you may as well rub their faces in your ability to define their reality. In about three weeks, that paste-eating kid from third grade is gonna start screaming on your Facebook wall about how Joe Biden is a centaur who non-consensually fucks 1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supremes, and he’s going to mean it with every fiber of his being.

Princess Ivanka decided now was an appropriate moment to taunt the millions thrown into unemployment by her father’s homicidal blundering, encouraging America’s exhausted, terrified workforce to Try Something New!™️ See, this depression-level job market is actually a fun opportunity to eat/pray/love your way to a thrilling n’ fulfilling new career! Like, maybe if you’re bored with stealing shoe designs and leveraging Daddy’s government job into Chinese trademarks, he’ll let you play cabinet secretary for awhile! It’ll be LIT, kids!

The attempt to use the pandemic as an excuse to develop arbitrary new excuses to deport international students blew up in Team Klanrunt’s face, like so many of their efforts, because they are as incompetent as they are hateful, which is to say very incompetent indeed. Ah well. I’m sure Stephen Miller’s Secret Santa will come up with something else. Say, that spray-on hair a few years back went over GREAT.

Ummmmmmmm what else is going on here in Hell? Should we check in on any dangling subplots? President Gas Station Urinal Cake is still doing all he can to destroy the United States Postal Service, of course. Yes, he’s trying to murder our institutions in addition to killing us one by one with the coronavirus; it’s a surprisingly sophisticated operation for a doddering old man who can’t even pick out pants that fit; I suspect Uncle Vlad is giving him pointers*.

And now the Seriously Why Aren’t You Plebs Dead Yet Administration has ordered hospitals to skip over those dorks at the CDC with their silly ol’ “science” and their silly ol’ “transparency,” and report COVID-19 data directly to a shredder in Mike Pants’ office, and golly, if we were being governed by incompetent goons desperate to conceal the scope of their disastrous failures from the public, we’d really be in trouble right now, but luckily WELL SHIT.

Squeezably Soft Telefascist Seb Gorka is back in the federal government, because when a rampaging autocrat learns he has fully domesticated one of America’s once-great political parties to the extent that they’ll let him get away with deploying the U.S. military against peaceful protesters, what’s one unqualified Hungarian Nazi more or less?

Oh, I see the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus has been recruiting campaign volunteers in the extremely-non-politically-correct exploitation film asylums of QAnon! I guess with the nasties over at the Lincoln Project scooping up all the recent Republicans with residual guilt/patriotism/decency, it’s tough to find door-knockers, huh?

And now you’re telling me they found a squirrel carrying bubonic plague in Colorado? Okay, okay, I get it…you guys can come out from behind the curtains now, these last few years have all been an elaborate prank on me personally, and everybody’s about to peel off their Mission Impossible masks, break down the set, and explain how you trapped me in this bizarre, epic, Truman Show experiment, right…fucking RIGHT?

Fuckin’ PLAGUE SQUIRRELS. Fuck you, The News, you jumped the shark with the murder hornets, I’m done with this show. Just as soon as I figure out how to make the clicker change the channel outside my window. Until then, I guess I’ll keep drinking. Sigh. Stay safe out there, friends.

PS – I see Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III’s political career has just ended in humiliating defeat. Let us take time to mourn this grOKAY I’M DONE.

*Or, y’know…orders.