I worry that I wasted a lot of hyperbole screaming about how insane things were back in the days of soundproof wank booths and botched Easter Egg Rolls, and that I’ll run out of language now that we’re battling a global crisis hydra. Next week, when the birds begin their Hitchcockian assault on humanity, there won’t be any words left, and this blog will simply be onomatopoeic grunts.

Congratulations to any statue-collecting fish dwelling in the River Avon, you hit the motherfucking jackpot this week when protesters dumped the statue of notorious slaver Nice Try, Your Shitty Name Isn’t Getting Into My Blog, just the first of many monuments to white supremacists consigned to the dustbin of history this week, both literally and figuratively. Bye, asshole statues!

Angela Merkel didn’t “like” a social media post he made about how antifa ruined McDonald’s fries or something similarly batshit, so Weehands McNodick suddenly decided to pull about 1/3rd of our troops out of Germany, just the latest demonstration that the Trump Doctrine, to the extent that it exists, is largely hissy-fit-based. “I’m so mad I better give Putin something else he wants! MEADOWS! A fresh diaper, on the double!”

So, those jobs numbers Shart Garfunkel heralded last week apparently weren’t nearly as rosy as initially presented, because “some people were mistakenly characterized as employed rather than unemployed.” Now, all of this is miles over my head, but isn’t sorting the employed from the unemployed the entire fucking point of the jobs report? This feels like ordering a pizza, only to receive three slices plus a pair of sweat socks with a note explaining that some non-pizza items were mistakenly characterized as pizza.

In saner times, any campaign aide would have immediately been fired for approvingly platforming a chainsaw-wielding, n-word-spewing, protester-threatening maniac, but when you get that push notification in a couple of days announcing Mercedes Schlapp has instead been named Acting Secretary of Defense, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

Chainsaw Racist will be teaming up with Handless Incel (in prison) soon enough. Oh, you hadn’t heard about Handless Incel? Well, I’ve spoiled the ending, but I won’t deprive you of the other pleasures of this story; while karma hasn’t yet caught up to the world’s most prominent and powerful scumfucks, at least it’s keeping busy.

Seems even George W. Bush won’t back Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot this November, so perhaps the ghosts of everyone Dubya got killed have slipped some sound political advice into their nightly haunting. Word is, the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus is positively giddy to run against W, imagining “even the war criminals from my own party can’t stand me” is some sort of magical electoral cure-all, like, “hey, remember that one guy you hated twelve years ago? Doesn’t he just make you forget all about how you lost your job and you can’t go to restaurants because the President can’t do one fucking thing right? No? Think really hard about 2008. Please. Please clap.” thus achieving the poetic justice of becoming the very Jeb(!) they once mocked.

If you ever wondered what would happen if you threw a fear-crazed vigilante mob for an imaginary antifa invasion, and antifa never came, wonder no longer. Once again mistaking their 4chan posts and misspelled memes for “intel,” bunches of terrified idiot white people all over the country became convinced that “busloads of antifa” were coming to their small town to fuck shit up, presumably because the antifas had run out of shit to fuck up in the big bad city. Anyway, everybody had a real nice time playing dress-up, and maybe the real busloads of antifa were the friends we made along the way.

In their ongoing effort to spread American Carnage beyond humanity to all species of life, the Turdmaggot Administration rolled back century-old protections for wild birds. Why? Because they hate everyone and everything. Every. Living. Thing. They’re gonna try to ram the Mandatory Puppy Mills Replacing Every Playground in America Act through in the lame duck session, just you watch.

Something really has changed in this country, though.

Who would have imagined that Tangerine Idi Amin’s long-lusted-after Authoritarian Power Grab and Off-Brand Tear Gas Sho would have turned the entire country against racist, militarized police overnight? Public opinion has shifted more sharply than I would have thought possible a year ago.

Shit, this last week saw the stunning public debut of WOKE WILLARD, a suspiciously Mitt-Romney-shaped Black Lives Matter marcher.

Why, even the National Football League suddenly noticed that racism is a thing, and gosh, IF ONLY someone associated with that organization had done something to peacefully bring that issue to their attention a few years ago, right?

Anyway, let’s do something a bit uncharacteristic for this silly little poo joke blog.

Let’s take a moment to chronicle the PROGRESS for once, because there’s certainly been a stunning amount of it in a very short time.

In Los Angeles, NYC, and elsewhere, cities are vowing to redirect some of their riot-gear-and-tear-gas budget to more useful, less When All You Have is a Baton, Everything Looks Like a Skull type solutions. ‘Bout time.

The Minneapolis city council has pledged to disband the whole dang police department, and start over with something new. Considering all the tire-slashing and pepper spray joyriding that’s gone on, yeah, pulling this rotten plant out by the roots makes sense.

In New York, state lawmakers banned the use of chokeholds by law enforcement, and repealed a law that kept officers’ disciplinary records secret from the public, because apparently there was a point in time when somebody thought that was a good idea, OK BOOMER, did I use that right?

The Washington, D.C. city council passed reforms of their own, banning chokeholds, as well as all Hairplug Himmler’s favorite protester-suppressing tactics: tear gas, pepper spray, stun grenades, and rubber bullets. There are almost too many reforms to keep track of, so I’m happy to let this dude on Twitter keep track of ‘em for me.

Fuck, now even the Army is suddenly “open to discussions” about maybe renaming those bases currently glorifying Confederate leaders, and uh, yay for progress, but why the fuck are y’all just getting to this now? Is it really good for morale to train at Camp Treasonous Loser? I feel like I’d be more inspired by figures who were loyal. And, y’know…successful.

And on an unrelated topic, new studies show that lockdown orders spared the world tens of millions of coronavirus infections, saving millions of lives, and does it not warm your battered heart to learn that not all of 2020’s endless stream of bullshit has been in vain? That your significant-but-ultimately-manageable sacrifices made a real difference, even if the FUCK SOCIETY GIMMIE MAH HAIRCUT crowd will never acknowledge or appreciate them? Hell with ‘em. We saved millions, and got a few solid Netflix binges and closet reorganizations out of it to boot. Go, us.

See, wasn’t it nice to read all that GOOD news for a change? I feel all clean and sparkly now. Like a dish soap commercial. Anyway, time to swing back by the buffet to load up our plates with more shit. You didn’t think we were done with the bad news, didja? Oh, my sweet summer child.

The Shart House brain trust is reportedly considering wheeling Donnie Dotard out in front of the public to give a speech on race and unity, and my first thought was “wow, and risk alienating his white supremacist hate cult base?” Anyway, I’m excited for it; it’ll be a train wreck so spectacular I expect Harrison Ford to escape from it in order to chase down a one-armed man.

Redactor General William Barr has been so busy ordering violent crackdowns on peaceful protesters he hasn’t been able to keep up with the latest version of the official story, undercutting Boss Shart’s ridiculous “bunker inspector” spin during an interview with Fux Nooz. It’s actually kinda cute that these dipshit crooks can’t keep their lies straight. The bungling lends a slapstick element to the attempted fascist takeover of the United States that will likely seem more amusing 20 minutes after Joseph Robinette has been sworn in.

Oh hey, we’re officially in a recession, that’s neat. Just like every time we elect a Republican President. But hey, when your vote can be bought as cheaply as empty bellowing about an imaginary “War on Xmas,” you have to expect this sort of thing.

While our old chum the coronavirus has largely fallen off the front page, it’s still killing hundreds of people every day, probably because pandemics, unlike Presidents, don’t curl up in bed to mainline cheeseburgers and rage-tweet all weekend when they don’t like their press coverage. So naturally, Fat Q*Bert thinks it’s the perfect time to hit the road for Klanfest 2020, offering Cult45 up to COVID-19 like a sacrifice to a volcano god. At this point, I say fuck it. Crank the AC, toss the masks, shit, let’s install vomitoriums* for these creeps. Go crazy, dolts.

I see the latest presidentially-designated enemy of the state is Martin Gugino, the 75-year-old man who the lying librul media would have you believe was violently assaulted by Buffalo PD officers, but who is in fact a secret antifa super spy and also a ninja with a robot arm that has a flamethrower built into the pointer finger, a Russian propaganda agent on fucking OAN told us so. This episode helpfully provided further evidence of the Theory of Senate Republican Spinelessness, which I think is ready for publication now.

Brian Kemp and his Georgia partymates remain deathly afraid of their voters, and in honor of the state’s primary today, they held a charity concert to benefit their fading white nationalist majority, playing all the greatest voter suppression hits including the smash single Not Enough Voting Machines in Minority Neighborhoods (Plus the Ones They’ve Got Don’t Work). The encore, There Are No Lines in White Precincts How Strange really brought the house down, assuming the house is democracy, and everyone was excited to hear Kemp’s new song, You’re All Too Distracted With Trump’s Bullshit (To Stop Me From Pulling This Again in November.)

And now I see the previously mentioned race n’ unity speech will be written by Sneering Hatemarmot Stephen Miller himself?  How can I, with my humble exaggerations and petty hyperbole, hope to compete with real life?

Well. Another absolutely disastrous day for the Shart’s re-election chances, and another day Ruth Bader Ginsburg survived, so I’m gonna go ahead and call it a win and drink till I fall asleep. Stay safe out there, Resisters…

*I know they weren’t real, so you can save that “well, actually, Cap…” comment. You know who you are.