Friends, I know I’ve been telling you that shit be cray for a couple of years now, but we’ve suddenly found ourselves at the point in history where robots are attacking us with bear spray, and I don’t think we’re anywhere near the bottom of this barrel yet.

Hairpiece Himmler was extra pouty this week, because a President that some people actually liked and respected stole his spotlight by dying, and he just went through this with John McCain like, a month ago, boo hoo. He was certainly too emotional to walk TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY FUCKING YARDS to Palmer House to meet Dubya, so he had to be chauffeured in a motorcade. Or maybe he’s just a lazy old bastard who can’t walk across the street without collapsing in exhaustion. Dr. Ronny Jackson can’t cover for ya when you’re wheezing and sweating uncontrollably after half a block, I guess.

And because he got through the whole funeral service without ripping the casket open and tea-bagging the corpse, the media fawned over his subdued, professional demeanor. It was so goddamn Presidential, Van Jones didn’t stop orgasming for six hours.

The Marmalade Shartcannon and his deputies continue to debase the United States in service to Murderous, Autocratic Thug/Oil Company Executive with Delusions of Grandeur Mohammed bin Salman, which is equal parts appalling and humiliating. But after a briefing with the CIA director, even loyal Trump stooges like Lindsey Graham and Richard Shelby are saying yuh huh MBS had Jamal Khashoggi killed, with the bone saw, in the embassy, it was not Colonel Mustard or Miss Scarlett, and it is a very bad thing.

And maybe you wonder why the hell the President of the United States is so eager to cover up a brutal, despicable, murder, but then you see that a Saudi government lobbyist paid for 500 rooms at the Velveeta Vulgarian’s D.C. hotel right after the election, and you hang your head in shame that your beautiful country’s soul was bought so fucking cheap.

So, Michael Avenatti announced that he will not be participating in a couple of CSPAN kids table debates with John Delaney and Howard Schultz and probably Bobby Jindal before dropping out of the 2020 primary. I’m pretty pissed about this, actually, because I was really looking forward to the opportunity to prove that our party was Trump-proof, that we’d quickly reject any loudmouth idiot who figured a twitter following qualified him for the most important gig on earth. Well, maybe Dane Cook will give it a go.

Nice to see GOP embracing all the exciting new possibilities that open up when you simply give up on feeling shame. The anti-democratic power grabs in Wisconsin and Michigan are proceeding quite nicely, thank you very much. Tony Evers now has to walk on a bed of hot coals to reach his office every day, and Gretchen Whitmer is only allowed to veto legislation if she first slays a wild boar with her bare hands. Anyway, I was already pretty proud to be a Democrat, but now that we’re the only major American party that believes in Democracy, I’m positively beaming.

And shit down in the North Carolina 9th keeps gettin’ shadier and shadier. Wouldn’t be surprised to learn that “Pastor” Mark Harris has a basement full of would-be Dan McCready voters shackled to the wall. Anyway, we’re talking about god knows how many ballots destroyed, and the financial trail winding allllll the way up to the state GOP. McCready has un-conceded his race, and calls for a new election grow louder by the hour, which means the goddamn midterms will never ever end, which I’m sorta okay with.

And because shame is for cucks, these rat-finks are actually using a large-scale act of ELECTION fraud perpetrated by Republicans as an excuse to push their bullshit VOTER fraud agenda. And yes, the lame-duck NC legislature is working to pass a bill in the name of election security that will disenfranchise minorities while doing precisely diddly squat to prevent Leslie-McRae-Dowless-style shenanigans.

Roger Stone responded to a letter from Diane Feinstein by pleading the fifth, even though he hadn’t been subpoenaed or anything. Heh. Ol’ Rog is gettin’ kinda jumpy, don’tcha think? At the grocery store the other day, the cashier asked “paper or plastic,” and Stone instinctively cried, “I have a constitutional right to protection from self-incrimination!!!” before fleeing, leaving behind his vodka and prunes.

Ross Douthat, who somehow has yet to figure out the Times gave him a column to make conservatives look dumb, cut a real gem this week. It’s a disturbingly suburban, Saturday Evening Post and Ovaltine ode to white supremacy, and it’s scarier than anything from Edgar Allen Poe’s nightmares.

We actually get a whole little subsection in today’s blog about People Named Ross Who Are Bad, so let’s turn our attention to Representative-elect Ross Spano from FL-15, who playfully announced that “whoopsie, I seem have to funded my campaign with illegal donations, OH WELL, SEE YOU IN WASHINGTON, SUCKERS!” Both his Republican primary and Democratic general election opponents are calling for a criminal investigation, which shouldn’t take long, since Spano has already confessed to, well…breaking the law. Or maybe he’ll form a Federal Indictment Caucus with Duncan Hunter and Chris Collins.

That’s all the Bad Ross news for today, but I’ve got an eye on YOU, Former Big League Pitcher Ross Ohlendorf!

So it looks like Fat Q*Bert heard somebody from China say “I like your ridiculously overlong necktie” and took that to mean “we’re about to totally renegotiate our trade relationship,” and therefore the stock market is behaving like an inebriated bungee jumper, how fun.

And confessed felon Michael Flynn seems to have earned his Get Out of Jail Free (Also Your Lunatic Dirtbag Kid) If By Free You Mean Nineteen Separate Interviews With Team Mueller Spent Snitching Out Everybody You Worked With card. Everybody’s having a good time playing Mad Libs with the redacted sections in Bodacious Bob’s document, trying to figure out if they’ve got a pre-dawn no-knock raid in their immediate future.

You could be forgiven for thinking the international news was a rerun, since we got yet another story about satellites picking up images of North Korea continuing their missile program even though they promised Donnie Dotard they wouldn’t and there was a challenge coin and everything. What is that, the fourth time? Fifth? Thirty-ninth?

On the bright side, if there’s ever a Nobel Prize for getting played, mocked, and utterly cucked by a cheap third-world dictator, you’ll be a heavy favorite, Shart-Shart.

Alex Acosta, friend to wealthy pedophiles everywhere, is still in the cabinet, drawing a taxpayer-funded salary, isn’t that neat?

Meanwhile, Trenchmouthed Cousin-Humper Rudy Giuliani doesn’t understand how the internet works, and because he’s an aging Republican, he reflexively blames his own ludditism on a sinister left-wing conspiracy. Anyway, Rudy doesn’t spell-check or edit his tweets before posting, so some clever person made him the butt of a pretty damn good joke.

Senator Kirsten Gillibrand sent out a tweet saying “the future is female,” which is a fairly common phrase that I know you’ve all seen on backpacks and bumper stickers and t-shirts thousands of times by now, but boy howdy, did the entire right wing melt down over it! Shartboy Junior trembled in fear at the thought of the Amazon overlords imprisoning his masculine magnificence in a labor camp, or something. Even Marco Rubio belched up some self-righteous blather before returning to usual regimen of rubbing NRA money all over his body while tweeting out bible verses that he doesn’t follow.

You probably saw the thing where Tangerine Idi Amin said that he doesn’t care about the national debt that’s he been inflating like the gluttony guy in Se7en, because he won’t be around when the shit hits the fan. He’s taking a lot of heat for that, but I find it sorta refreshing. It’s like Bizarro Honest Paul Ryan.

Oh, and the trade deficit hit its highest point in a whole damn decade. Perfect. The silly old twit can’t stand doing his job, all he wants to do is golf and wallow in the adulation of the rubes at his little Klan rallies, but the one policy-related thing he seems to actually care about, in his malicious, misinformed, way, is the trade deficit, and even that he’s fucking up. Trumpest thing ever.

Meanwhile, the Nebraska Farm Bureau sent President Cudbrain a Hallmark card saying “Thanks for flushing a billion dollars in revenue your Big Stupid Trade War down the toilet, you massive fucking idiot! We’d much rather feed your ego than our families!”

…you know, I’m starting to think this Trump fellow doesn’t know quite as much about the economy as he claims.

Well, looks like we won’t have Bilbo Bigot to kick around anymore. After decades spent as the dutiful servant of institutional white supremacy, Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III, the man who was too racist for the 80’s, says he’s probably gonna take his hood and go home. Oh, he’ll miss the hustle and bustle of Washington, but I’m sure he’ll enjoy a fulfilling retirement back home in Alabama, descending into a blissful senility, yelling at any black people he sees sitting in the front of the bus.

A couple of real nice pieces of investigative journalism dropped today, one from Mother Jones and the Trace, reveals probably-super-illegal campaign coordination between Team Shart and the blood-drunk maniacs of the National Rifle Association. More crimes. Anyone surprised? Anyhow, get in line, I guess, behind the emoluments clause lawsuit and the Drumpf Foundation lawsuit and the Hatch Act violations and the defamation lawsuits and…lordy. I’ve lost track.

The other, from the Failing New York Times, introduces us to Victorina Morales, the undocumented immigrant housekeeper who cleans up after President Crotchvoid at his tacky New Jersey golf club. I hope she wears a mask at work, so as to avoid any detrimental health effects from breathing in the fumes of Wee Don’s experimental hair tonic.

I expect this latest story about Strawberry Shartcake hiring undocumented immigrants at his businesses will turn off his the MURICA FURST crowd in Cult45 about as much as his refusal to pray at the Bush funeral will bother evangelical “Christians.”

The period between an election and the seating of a new congress often sees shake-ups in leadership, so perhaps it’s no surprise to see Louie Gohmert vigorously defending his title of Dumbest Man in Congress. Louie popped up just long enough to spread anti-Semitic conspiracy garbage about George Soros so vile that even Fux Bizness swiftly apologized. You’re still the king, Louie.

I looooove watching Nancy Pelosi take charge again. Today, the future two-time, two-time Speaker of the House told Weehands McNodick that if he wants his big stupid wall, he’s gonna have to pull the money out of his own ass, because congress ain’t giving him shit. RESPECT.

Nancy also hints House Dems may just refuse to seat “Pastor” Harris even though he worked SO hard to steal his election, and THE BOSS IS BACK is what I’m telling you folks.

Corey Lewandowski got into another fight, and it wasn’t even with a female journalist this time, but rather with some Florida Republicans who refused to offer up sufficient praise to the Emperor of Turds. Corey is a super-well-adjusted grown-up who will probably never wind up in jail because he lost his shit at a KFC and stabbed a guy with a spork for forgetting his cole slaw.

Speaking of stunted man-children, our old chum Milo Yerassisbrokenow got booted from Patreon in less than a day, so he’ll probably have to go door to door now, begging “alms for the incurably shitty, sir?”

What’s this? Has Tucker Carlson turned on Government Cheese Goebbels? Plenty of harsh words from Liar Tuck, I fear we may see strife at the usually-cordial White Nationalist Convention n’ Fish Fry next year!

Well, Shartboy’s pick for the new Ambassador to the United Nations, Heather Nauert, may be a former Fux Nooz host without any diplomatic experience, but she’s friends with Jar-Jar and Ivanka, and have I mentioned that this is hell because this is hell.

Lord, what a week. Lock up your bear spray someplace where the robots can’t get to it, is all I’m sayin’.