I was dancing on ACA repeal’s grave, and now I have to dance on Reince’s grave, and I’m tired now.

Hey folks, sorry it’s been a while…I stayed up late the other night watching the health care vote, and then I WENT ON A BENDER, DRUNK ON MITCH MCCONNELL’S TEARS, THAT SHIT IS LIKE ABSINTHE WITH FLINTSTONES VITAMINS AND A LITTLE COKE MIXED UP IN IT. Anyhow, I woke up in the alley behind Paul Ryan’s place, I think he was strangling a gardener to death. He seemed upset.

GodDAMN I will never tire of watching Yertle the Master Legislator and the Shart of the Deal Himself, Donald J Trump (The “J” stands for “I Can’t Do Anything Right and My Daddy Sent Me to Military School Because He Doesn’t Love Me.”) fail so spectacularly.

Eager to demonstrate his deal-making prowess, the Marmalade Shartcannon sicced Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke on Lisa Murkowski, because Ryan is the Luca Brasi of the Cabinet, I guess? Zinke was all “Nice State you represent there, Lisa. Shame if anything happened to it.” Murkowski chuckled, no doubt remembering she chairs a couple of Senate committees that just so happen to oversee Interior’s business and budget.

So Senator Murkowski casually announced she was indefinitely postponing meetings to consider the Shart Administration’s appointees to several posts at Interior, then she voted to sink Obamacare repeal anyway, and then she walked away in slow motion as a gasoline truck exploded behind her. I’m pretty sure The Rock was there.

As various iterations of repeal-and-replace-or-maybe-just-die-in-a-ditch-we-don’t-actually-care-much failed, the Senate GOP seemed to coalesce around the idea of “Skinny Repeal,” a version that didn’t solve any problems, didn’t even cut taxes on the rich, just haphazardly blew up the insurance market and fucked over a few million people.

Nobody thought it was a GOOD bill, mind you, but they were gonna pass it anyway, with the idea that if they locked themselves inside a cage with raving maniacs like Mo Brooks and Mark Meadows, some sort of magically perfect bill would materialize out of thin air. Yes, the finest legislative minds in the Republican Party were just about to pass a bill they wrote over lunch, on the condition that the House would agree NOT to pass it, because of what a shitty bill it is. JUST LIKE THE FOUNDING FATHERS INTENDED.

Paul Ryan was all “No, we totally won’t pass it, come on over, we’ve got Zima!” but any fool could tell you the conference committee would be a few weeks of cacophonous shrieking followed by the House saying FUCK IT JUST PASS THE FUCKING SKINNY BILL, A LITTLE MURDER IS BETTER THAN NO MURDER!

Now, Susan Collins was never gonna vote for any of this shit, and Chuckie Schumer kept his entire caucus, from Manchin to Sanders, unwaveringly, unyieldingly, unshakably united, because we are a motherfucking TEAM and we are STRONGER TOGETHER*, so it all came down to a handful of fence-sitters, and as the day rolled by, shit didn’t look good.

Capito and Portman were always going to fold, because that’s what “moderate” Republicans do (If you ever get a chance to play poker with Rob Portman, DO IT.). Rand Paul decided that Skinny Repeal, while imperfect, would murder enough serfs to suit him. Dean Heller was gonna vote for it, because apparently he’s sick of being a Senator and wants to get swept out with the rest of the trash in the midterms. (Have I mentioned that you should VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS, by the way?)

A few Senators made Paul Ryan pinkie swear that he wouldn’t pass their shit bill, and he said “I will not make such a promise,” and they said “good enough for me!” so things looked grim.

And so we all stayed up late watching fucking CSPAN, waiting for a bunch of rich old white fucks to ruin everything, as is their habit.

And then John McCain did the Maverick thing. Good for him. You spent the whole day reading about it, you don’t need to hear about it from me. Besides, all the good gags are long since taken.

Senator McCain now returns to Arizona for cancer treatment. Good luck, sir.

Anyhow, millions of Americans can rest a little easier now, and all of the biggest assholes in the country seem pretty pissy, so me? I’m walking on fuckin’ sunshine.

Especially since my table overfloweth with ACA Repeal Fuckup post-mortems. Everybody’s mad at everybody else, at least on the donkeys-and-tax-cuts side of things, and suddenly more than half the year’s gone, and unified Republican government has produced about as much success as a decade’s worth of Cleveland Browns football.

Even Peggy Noonan joined the dogpile, writing a steam-powered taint punt of an editorial in the Wall Street Journal. Having observed all of Drumpf’s projectile insecurities, Peggy hit him where it hurts, calling him weak and unmanly and saying he’s Woody Allen except not funny, which would basically make him Reince Priebus. OUCH.

Do we have to talk about that ridiculous Scaramucci fellah? I guess so.

So this assclown isn’t even officially on the job yet, but he pitches a great big fit about how Somebody Leaked My Disclosure Forms I’m Telling Dad and Also the FBI, until everybody in the world told him that THE WHOLE FUCKING POINT OF A DISCLOSURE FORM IS THAT IT’S PUBLIC, THAT’S WHY IT’S CALLED DISCLOSURE YOU PUDDING-BRAINED DIMWIT.

And he’s the White House Communications Director. Of COURSE he is.

And of course you’ve seen THAT piece by now. Scaramucci called New Yorker reporter Ryan Lizza to try to threaten him into revealing a source, and ended up ranting like a teenager, jacked up on Grape Crush and Sour Patch Kids, talking trash on Xbox Live.

The big takeaway of course was that Anthony rather ungallantly revealed the last remaining unfulfilled fantasy of his co-worker, Steve Bannon (Not cool, Mooch! What happens in truth or dare STAYS in truth or dare!). Now, it’s apparent to absolutely everyone that Scaramucci is comically under-qualified for his post, but so long as he punctuates every briefing and interview with tales of his Manchild Boss’ god-like prowess at all things great and small, he’s a lock to stick around.

Joking aside, Anthony Scaramucci is exactly the kind of jagoff we’ll be dealing with from here on out. No one with any sense of self-preservation (or self-respect) will go to work for a guy who’ll throw him/her under the bus without a moment’s hesitation, leaving only malicious buffoons seizing the opportunity to flatter their way into positions of genuinely nightmarish levels of power.

Somebody needs to tell Mooch that ass-kissing only gets you so far with this fucker. Shit, Reince will never get the smell of well-done steak farts out of his molars, and look what happened to him.

Anyway. Huge bipartisan majorities in both houses passed a Russian sanctions bill, and boy is Drumpf’s boss mad! Yup, Vlad is seizing American diplomatic property in Russia, even as his subservient lapdog trips over his own feet in eagerness to return Putin’s spy compounds here on American soil. AMERICA FIRST!

Word is Il Douche plans to sign the sanctions bill, avoiding a humiliating veto override a few days after the leviathan-sized health care failure, and, as a bonus, allowing him to further brag about all the bills he’s signed.

Now, because the Candycorn Skidmark is only really happy when he’s LARPing a Nuremberg Rally, he gave a horrifying little speech in front of law enforcement officers in Long Island today. I tell you what, if he was half as good at legislating as he is at stoking stupid white people’s fears of minorities, Obamacare would’ve been repealed in February.

In addition to the usual fabricated stories of Tales-From-the-Crypt-level violence and gore, Sharty McFly decided to sprinkle a lil’ Call For Increased Police Brutality into this particular speech, because…well, shit, because the President of the United States of America is vacuous horror, a monstrous, soulless bastard, a man with a pulsating scrotal tumor oozing bile and pus where most men have a heart.

Whelp, Reince Pubis finally received the reward awaiting all of Tangerine Idi Amin’s enablers, whether they understand it or not; a thankless, humiliating dismissal, thrust back into the cold world with his reputation burned to the ground with the earth salted like motherfucking Carthage, and the itching, inescapable knowledge that he betrayed his country and his constitution and no decent people will ever respect him again, and having nothing to show for it beyond a cheap red baseball cap made in fucking China.

Reince, I’d feel bad for you, but you’re a collaborating piece of human garbage, you saw what you were enabling, and you went along with it anyway. I wish you hemorrhoids and root canals. May you mystically contract STDs without even experiencing intercourse. May your neighborhood bakery be forever sold out of your favorite do-nut. May you sit down some far-flung day to write your memoirs, only to vomit uncontrollably when you finally face the unforgivable choices you’ve made. You suck, Reince.

(Word is, Pubis got fucking kicked out of the Scrotal motorcade in the middle of the day? Good. I hope today is your fucking Groundhog Day, you turd. I hope you live it thirty thousand times.)

As always, there’s more. North Korea’s lobbing missiles left and right (weird that they didn’t do this while Obama was around, isn’t it?), Mooch’s wife hit the road, and I guess John Delaney is running for President? I don’t know who the fuck John Delaney is, but I bet Tim Pawlenty and George Pataki have already invited him to their poker game.

Shit, I made two poker jokes in one post. Fuck it, I’m tired. Leave a complaint with customer service, it fuckin’ bothers you so much.

(Oh hey, read that Sally Yates editorial if you haven’t already.)

*Everybody’s talking about Collins and Murkowski and McCain, and that’s cool, but let’s get a few hip hip hoorays for the other 48 reasons this piece of shit went down. So here’s to Schumer, Durbin, Warren, Franken, Wyden, Murray, Kaine, Harris, Brown, Murphy, Feinstein, Menendez, Stabenow, Manchin, Tester, Cortez Masto, Booker, Gillibrand, Donnelly, Sanders, Duckworth, Heitkamp, Nelson, Heinrich, Hirono, McCaskill, Leahy, King, Hassan, Shaheen, Warner, Van Hollen, Merkley, Udall, Blumenthal, Whitehouse, Klobuchar, Baldwin, Bennet, Coons, Casey, Reed, Cantwell, Carper, Schatz, Cardin, Markey, and Peters. We fucking owe y’all. Thank you.