Houston Drowns While Drumpf Tweets

I try to take the weekends off, y’know?

Watch some baseball, read a little, sleep in…step away from the news. And then I pick it back up on Monday, and it’s like every horror-movie scream in history stacked one on top of the other, blasted directly into my brain via Beats By Dr. Dre.

Madness. Motherfucking MADNESS.

Now, I know the insanity comes at us fast and hard these days, and it’s easy to lose track of shit, but I imagine we’ll be talking about the Mother of All Friday News Dumps for years to come, right?

“The Gulf Coast is about to be hit with the most severe hurricane this nation has seen in a decade, GOOD LUCK and bythewaywe’rebanningtransgendersoldiersandpardoningJoeArpaioandwefiredtheNaziguy ANYHOW I’VE GOT GOLF, BYE LOSERS!”

Fuck.

Well, Seb Gorka doesn’t collect a government paycheck anymore, and that, if nothing else, is good gnus.

Sources say Gorka will now resume work on his long-delayed plan to transfer his brain into a steam-powered mechanical body, in order to fight Hellboy.

…Or he’ll just rejoin Breitbart, whichever’s easier.

Before we dive into the humanitarian crisis on the gulf coast, can I take a moment to draw your attention to a tragedy that may’ve flown under your radar amidst all the photos and videos of bravery and human suffering?

I’m told poor Princess Ivanka and Jar-Jar are suffering regular “punctures” to their “self-esteem” as they service their turdweasel patriarch’s corrupt, chintzy, grifter administration.

So open your hearts and your wallets for these two spoiled adult children of ill-gotten privilege, who’ve spent their entire lives spending money their shitty parents stole from other people, for their fee-fees have been injured. Of all the many travesties of the Shart Administration, surely this is the greatest*.

*Shut up, kid-whose-mom-got-deported-while-you-were-at-school, THINK OF IVANKA’S SELF-ESTEEM YOU SELFISH BRAT.

If you have any thoughts and prayers left, pour ’em out for poor ole John Bolton, who has lost his access to the Misshapen Play-Doh Manatee under John Kelly’s new Keep the Raving Lunatics Away From the Levers of Power initiative.

Bolton finds himself forced to communicate with the President via National Review column, like some common Fux n’ Frenz host. Poor fellah. It’s especially painful, cuz the Mustachioed One offers a bullshit excuse for weaseling out of the Iran Nuclear deal, even as Donnie Darko presses his intelligence communities for that very thing.

I’d also like to take a moment to salute American Hero Gary Cohn, Sharty McFly’s chief economic advisor, who very nearly resigned over his dirtbag boss’ Let-us-not-ignore-the-friendly-Nazis-amongst-the-murdering-terrorists remarks after Charlottesville, but…didn’t.

Perhaps we can replace one of the fallen confederate monuments with a statue of Gary Cohn telling the press he almost resigned but decided to continue collaborating with his Nazi apologist boss instead, looking expectantly for praise that never comes.

Speaking of Charlottesville, we’re finally getting around to arresting some of the more violent scumfucks from that white supremacist riot. I guess if you get caught on video firing a gun into a crowd, or participating in a little Klan gang beatdown, there are consequences, even in Donald Trump’s Amerikkka.

…as I write this, SCROTUS hasn’t pardoned any of these fucks yet, but we all know how much he hates sharing the headlines with a natural disaster, so, y’know…no promises if you’re reading this tomorrow morning.

Ok. The hurricane. Holy shit, folks. 9 trillion gallons of water dumped on the Texas coast. Highways under water. The national guard mobilized. A civilian fleet mobilized like an American Dunkirk. People suffering. People dying.

And the President of the United States tweeting about how well he did in Missouri on election night. Shilling a book by perhaps the only law enforcement officer even MORE murderous than Joe Arpaio.

Oh, and he’s still insisting that Mexico will gladly pay us Tuesday for a Big Dumb Wall today. I’ll refer you to Vicente Fox on this particular point.

And mega church “pastor” Joel Osteen refuses to open the doors of his Houston Griftplex to flood victims, because Jesus never said anything about ministering to the poor if there was a risk of getting your nice carpet all muddy.

Hey, anybody who still buys the Reverend Joel’s phony schtick after this failure of character deserves what they get, in this life or the next, says I.

The Velveeta Urinal Cake reversed an Obama-era policy scaling back the transfer of military-grade weaponry to local police departments, because he watches old videos of the horrifying police response in Ferguson a few years back the way most of us periodically binge the cartoons and sitcoms we grew up on; with a sense of nostalgic whimsy about How the World Oughta Be.

Lemme get back to that Arpaio pardon real quick, cuz…holy shit. Dude sets up a concentration camp on American soil, tortures people in it, fakes an assassination attempt, jails critical journalists, costs the state millions in payouts, defies the law, sticks his wrinkly, racist-ass, old-man middle finger up at a court order, gets convicted, expresses not one ounce of remorse for any of it…and gets a Presidential pardon.

How toxic is this pardon? Fucking Jeff Sessions, who won’t sleep in a bed if it doesn’t have white sheets on it, made sure DoJ issued a statement saying “Fuckhead didn’t run this by us, we had nothing to do with this shit.”

I’m torn here, because on the one hand, this is probably Il Douche’s biggest abuse of his power to date…on the other, it’s also maybe his biggest accomplishment outside of Gorsuch, and sitting as we are on the brink of September, that is one goddamn pathetic statement.

Now Arpaio’s talking about mounting a primary challenge to Jeff Flake…shit, maybe we’ll have a Senate with Sheriff Joe and Kid Rock and probably Scott Baio and, oh, let’s say Ted DiBiase, the Million Dollar Man. Won’t that be a fucking delight?

Ooooo…this one has to hurt. The CCO of Playboy, Hugh Hefner’s son Cooper, ranted at length about how embarrassing it is that the Hairplug That Ate Decency once graced their cover.

The U.S. President is an embarrassment to pornographers. Jesus Fucking Christ.

We also found out that the Secret Service, already straining with bankruptcy, spent more than 7 grand on portable fucking toilets during President Shartcannon’s 17-day staycation at his New Jersey golf course.

Y’know, the constitution grants the power to tax and spend for the “common defense and general welfare of the United States.” I’m not sure where “Shitters for the Secret Service because the President can’t stay in the White House for a week at a time” falls on that spectrum, if I’m honest.

And didja see that thing where Bloomberg told us that Team Shart’s America Furst immigration crackdown sent home construction prices skyrocketing, to the surprise of only Those Who Think Shane Lives at the End?

Word is, President Scrotum Fungus is mad at his shitty, useless Secretary of State. Low-T-Rex just “doesn’t get it, man, he’s the establishment, maaaaaaaaaan!” And then Tilly went on the Sunday Shoz, and threw Boss Shart under the bus on his Nazi sympathizin’ and whatnot. And Nikki Haley’s gettin’ all hot n’ bothered.

Unsexy Rexy is hardly the only Cabinet Secretary backing away from Dorito Mussolini, by the way. A video of Jim “Angry Puppy” Mattis popped up, and he’s talking to a crowd of soldiers, telling ’em, “Hey, shit be cray, I know it, you know it, just don’t let the world fall apart, and we’ll return to your Regularly Scheduled America in a year or three, pinky swear!”

I see GOP congressdouche Duncan Hunter said, of President Skidmark, “He’s an asshole, but he’s our asshole.” Close, but not quite, Duncan. He’s a shitty, incompetent, insecure, anti-American, wannabe-authoritarian shitbag, but he’s YOUR shitty, incompetent, insecure, anti-American, wannabe-authoritarian shitbag.” And fuck you for making excuses for him.

Speaking of congressfucks, I see Ron DeSantis (R-Vichy) introduced an ammendment to cut off Bashful Bob Mueller’s funding and limit the scope of his investigation, because Ronnie-boy’s angling to be a commandant in the secret police in the new world order, I guess.

Boy howdy, the Russia subplot came raging back with a vengeance over the last 24, didn’t it?

Late last night, WaPo let errybody know that Drumpf and Co. were actively pursuing a real estate deal in Moscow even as he ran for President.

Following up, clownish mobster/FBI informant Felix Sater (Is he the guy from the Bond movies, or the guy from the Odd Couple, I forget?) got nailed by the Failing New York Times, sending emails to Mikey “Sez Who” Cohen, pushing a deal to get Uncle Vlad Putin on board with building a Drumpf Dower, er, Tower, in Moscow, to show off what a Big Fancy Deal-Maker he is, and make him President. “I will get Putin on this program and we will get Donald elected,” Felix boasted.

And WaPo scooped back that Cohen emailed Uncle Vlad’s personal spokesman in an effort to kickstart the project.

Weird, innit, that after months of scrutiny on Team Shart’s Russia ties, that none of them ever thought to mention this? It’s almost like they’re lying to us.

And now the subpoenas are flying left and right, and word is Mueller’s team is digging into the President’s role in crafting the instantaneously-debunked bullshit statement Shartboy Jr made when NYT first uncovered his Please Please Let’s Collude meeting from last summer.

Man, I just don’t know how Mueller and Co. will be able to prove a pattern of obstruction of justice. Considering that the White House already confessed to influencing the statement in question.

“May You Live in Interesting Times,” goes the curse, if I’m not mistaken.

Anyway. President Turdweasel took a few questions from the press today, making a colossal ass of himself, blathering about how pardoning Sheriff Joe on the eve of a massive hurricane was good for ratings, confusing two female reporters because they were both blonde, and talking about how well Russia and Finland got along during that one war where Russia invaded Finland.

Sigh.

‘Member when we weren’t governed by rampaging, full-diapered, man-baby? Those were goddamn glorious days, weren’t they?

Of course, there must be more that I’m forgetting. There’s always more, but the news is like a jackhammer to my brainstem right now, so you’ll forgive me if I bow out for the night, won’t you?