Donald Trump had a problem. A problem called “democracy.” See, he LIKED being President, (well, not the work part, but definitely charging the Secret Service to pee) but those rat-bastard Founding Fathers built all these dumb ol’ “elections” into their dumb ol’ “Constitution,” and smack dab in the middle of an economy you personally wrecked and a pandemic you disastrously mismanaged is nobody’s idea of a great time for a performance review.
Devin “Pigfucker” Nunes was an early adopter of Donald Trump’s unique blend of authoritarianism and kakistocracy, and it’s not hard to understand why; it takes a whole lotta institutional white supremacy to keep men so maliciously mediocre in positions of power.
There is no greater proof that the Republican base has no goddamn sense than Mitch McConnell’s consistently dismal approval rating from voters of his own party; the man is absolute ghoul, yes, and certainly he projects little folksy warmth, but he puts Ws on the board. Big ones. More than anybody I’ve ever seen.
One of Trump’s earliest congressional taint remoras, Ron DeSantis rode a wave of I’m With Stupid first to the Florida GOP’s 2018 gubernatorial nomination, and then, because learning from mistakes is apparently for cucks, to a narrow general election victory.
To level with y’all up front, I think Tucker Carlson is the most dangerous man in America. He’s the mouth of American fascism, and Donald Trump’s unofficial Chief Disinformation Dispenser, and, ultimately, a manufacturer of brownshirts.
Take an unusually weak mind, surgically remove evolution’s hard-won capacity to tell fact from fiction, fill the empty spaces with hate, and you’ve got Marjorie Taylor Greene. Drop that mind in the middle of the I-know-we’re-not-supposed-to-dismiss-MAGA-whites-as-racist-hillbillies-but-COME-ON shithole known as the Georgia 14th, and you’ve got the dumbest, most malicious member of the United States Congress, and ascendant American fascism’s loudest, vilest mouth.
When Rudy Giuliani, having just chugged a bottle of methamphetamine-laced NyQuil, stumbled onstage to deliver his apocalyptic sermon of fear at the 2016 Republican Nation Convention, you knew something was deeply fucked in this country.
Mike Pence is the Patron Saint of Mediocre White Dudes, and the Roman God of Failing Upwards.
A Democrat in his youth, Pence, like many men of limited intelligence, turned to religious conservatism for the convenience of being able to end arguments by claiming God shares his every fear and prejudice, while forgiving his every shortcoming, how convenient.
Secretary of State
Mike Pompeo is one of those performatively pious fake Christians who loves using his loudly-claimed-but-seldom-followed faith like a cudgel while ignoring every single word of the actual Bible, including “and” and “the.”
Secretary of State
Over the course of three decades, Rex Tillerson fucked, bribed, and murdered his way to the top of Exxon Mobil, like some sort of jowlsy Eva Peron.
William Barr actually taught me a valuable lesson. See, I didn’t look too closely at Bill when he was nominated to be Attorney General. After Jeff “Too Racist for the 80’s” Sessions and the masculine toilet guy, honestly, he looked like a nice, refreshing, safe, traditional Republican. An institutionalist who could bring a little much-needed stability.
And then he turned out to be a fascist, and one of the most dangerous enemies of democracy in American history. Whoops. My bad.
Secretary of the Treasury
Steve Mnuchin, like his namesake, the Noise You Make When You’re Dry Heaving After Getting Food Poisoning From Eating Truck Stop Gas Station Roller Hot Pockets on a Road Trip, is deeply unpleasant, and may result in the involuntary voiding of foul-smelling bodily fluids.
Secretary of Defense
Chief of Staff
National Security Advisor
Holy shit, there are Generals all over the place these days, aren’t there?
Retired General James Mattis serves as Secretary of Defense. Retired General John Kelly ran Homeland Security for a bit, before becoming the Lead Executive Branch Babysitter, excuse me, Chief of Staff. H.R. McMaster’s the National Security Advisor, and hell, he’s still on active duty.
Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, third generation of his family to carry the name of a Confedarate piece of trash and also a second Confederate piece of trash, is living his dream. As Velveeta Goebbels’ Attorney General, he’s turning back the clock to a time when women and minorities knew their place, and mediocre white dudes like himself got to run everything, even if they weren’t especially bright.
Ryan Zinke is like if the crappiest robot in Westworld escaped and jumped into conservative politics. He’s such a cartoon cowboy, I bet his right boot says “Andy” on the bottom.
Secretary of Commerce
When a witch’s curse transformed his master into a Beast and his fellow servants into household objects, Wilbur Ross became a decorative garden gnome. Unlike the rest of his compatriots, he ventured out into the world to make his fortune in the realm of shady international finance and money laundering, and when True Love’s Kiss lifted the curse, Wilbur was too far away for the enchantment to reverse, and thus he remains trapped in gnome form forever.
Secretary of Health and Human Services
If the Hippocratic Oath is binding in any sort of spiritual sense, Tom Price is royally fucked, y’all. There is some straight Dante shit awaitin’ him in the afterlife.
Secretary of Housing and Urban Development
Dr. Ben Carson is only in politics because he was rude President Obama to his face. At the 2013 National Prayer Breakfast, a traditionally non-political event, Dr. Ben, having been invited as the keynote speaker, decided to use his time to shit on the President and his policies.
Secretary of Education
Betsy DeVos is what happens when bored white ladies have enough money to really fuck shit up. Turns out, if you’re born rich and marry richer, you don’t have to settle for a book club, you can buy yourself a whole cabinet department!
Administrator of the EPA
Scott Pruitt, like a lot of boys his age, grew up watching Captain Planet cartoons. Unlike most boys his age, he decided that the various sludge-smog-and-toxic-waste-slinging villains were the role models for him.
Ok, fine. Pruitt is ten years too old to have grown up on Captain Planet, but fuck you, that’s a good opening paragraph. Make your own fucking website, you don’t like it.
Chief of Staff
Nobody wants to be Reince Priebus when they grow up. He’s just so immediately recognizable as a weaselly little tapeworm of a man, y’know?
Reince Priebus is the sort of person who would be played by Brad Dourif in a film.
Steve Bannon played Bob Ewell in a high school production of To Kill a Mockingbird, and liked it so much he decided to stay in the character for the rest of his life.
A self-described Leninist, and an outspoken populist*, Bannon wants to kidney-punch the administrative state, give it a wedgie, and steal its lunch money.
Jared Kushner was born on third base and thinks he invented baseball.
Jared’s dad, Charles Kushner, went to jail for tax evasion, illegal campaign donations, and, ahem, “witness tampering,” by which I mean he set his brother-in-law up with a hooker (not, I’m sad to report, of the Pissing Russian variety) and recorded their genital-smushing in order to blackmail him.
Daddy’s Little Girl
Ivanka Trump is what happens when you cross Gwyneth Paltrow with Mussolini’s dumbest, laziest aide-de-camp. Watching her try to sell her father’s fascism as some sort of pro-woman lifestyle brand, marketed in the sickliest imaginable shade of pink, has been one of the most bizarre subplots of this nightmare we can’t seem to pinch ourselves out of.
So, while Melania Trump is perhaps not as shitty as many of the crooks, Nazis, and Nazi crooks who inhabit her dirtbag husband’s world, she manages to impressively shitty in her own right.
When you worked for Akin, things weren’t simple
Cuz he got caught on tape
With legitimate rape
Senior Advisor for Policy
Why is it always the shittiest imaginable white dudes who turn out to be white supremacists?
Stephen Miller, who started balding eleven seconds after his conception, has by all accounts been a sack of monkey shit pretty much every single minute of his life.
Director of Communications
Oh wow, this new Communications Director looks like a real character, huh?
Where to begin? Ok, Anthony Scaramucci first came to –
Wait, what? Really?
White Supremacist Multi-Tool
Kris Kobach is like the protagonist of the white supremacist version of one of those Disney movies where a kid learns to chase his dreams, no matter how big. The kid gets tired of the monotonous grind of burning crosses on just one lawn at a time, and dreams of burning a cross big enough for the whole dang country!
Maybe he has a talking/singing Confederate flag for a sidekick. Named “Bedford.”
Roving Freelance Fascist
As seen in the famed documentary RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, when the Ark of the Covenant was opened on an uncharted island north of Crete, the burning light that issued thereof reduced the Nazi soldiers present to piles of ash and molten flesh. In time, the rains washed the fascist bio-goo into the island’s sewage system, where it mixed with the shit and piss and used tampons and such, and in time it congealed, took the shape of a man (albeit an unattractive one), slapped on a pair of glasses, and Sebastian Gorka was formed.
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.