Well, I am 31 flavors of quarantined and goin’ a little stir crazy, my friends. I’m about to paint a face on a volleyball and start talking to it, y’know, like in that really obscure Cast Away movie? Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’m the first one to make that joke, so just congratulate me and we’ll move on to the news…

Obviously we’ve all got a lot on our plates, in fact our plates are piled ten feet high with camel shit, but I hope everyone still manages to find time to appreciate the little things in life…like Felonious Rabbit Shipper Duncan Hunter getting sentenced to 11 months in prison for various acts of campaign finance fuckery. I may be spending the next few months huddled on my sofa, rationing Miller High Life, but at least I’ll get to make my own calls about when the lights turn on and off, Dunky-Dunc.

Having learned not one fucking thing from the current crisis, exacerbated as it has been by their pudding-headed purges, the Turmaggot Administration just keeps on hollowing out the federal government’s core of institutional expertise, and replacing it with a pack of feral assclowns harvested from the comments section of the Daily Caller. The head of the Office of Personnel Management resigned suddenly on Tuesday, as his department keeps filling up with douchebag college kids. Oh, and the acting director of the National Counterterrorism Center was fired by Richard Grenell, an over-glorified internet troll who shouldn’t have firing authority at a Forever 21, let alone anywhere within our national security apparatus.

Not so very long ago, the great state of Wisconsin was represented in the U.S. Senate by Russ Feingold, but I guess the cheeseheads got tired of brilliance and decency, and so they replaced Feingold with an oversized human thumb with a face drawn on it. That thumb, Senator Ron Johnson, doesn’t get why everybody’s freaking out over this whole “pandemic,” thing, after all, you’re looking at “only” 3.4% of the population dying off! Why, Johnson is downright pissy that Murica refuses to pull itself up by its bootstraps (without hand-washing afterwards, obviously) and take that 11-million-corpse hit like a man! Anyway, I hereby nominate RoJo to serve as Secretary of Bedside Manner for the duration of this crisis, assuming he can juggle the duties with those of his existing post, as Dumbest Man in the Senate.

I think there must’ve been a memo pinned to the bulletin board in the GOP break room this week, reading, “Ok, we’re gonna be even more openly evil now. Also, the ritual sacrifice of migrant babies has been cancelled due to coronavirus concerns,” because Rand Paul is suddenly feelin’ himself enough to stand shamelessly on the Senate floor, displaying a chilling level of calm as he casually divided the population into “people” and “non-people.” I’d suggest it’s actually Rand himself who comes off as significantly less than human here, but what do I know, I’m just a normal, non-white-supremacist, dude.

Well, COVID-19 can officially scratch “U.S. Congressman” off of its scavenger hunt list, as Utah’s Ben McAdams and Florida’s Mario Diaz-Balart have both tested positive and self-quarantined. Quite the collection you’re amassing there, Mr. Coronavirus…Tom Hanks, Monaco’s Prince Albert II, Idris Elba, half of the NBA players I’ve heard of…humanity is just one big game of Pokémon GO to you, isn’t it? And while I was drafting tonight, the Shart House announced a staffer in Vice President Mike Pants’ office has the thing as well. If we can just quarantine all these bastards as far away from the levers of power as possible, we might just make it through this thing.

I hope everyone is adjusting reasonably well to their “new normal.” It’s a lot to take on all at once, god knows…social distancing, toilet paper hoarding, and this weird thing where the President of the United States holds a press conference every morning during which he lies about the progress he’s made fighting the outbreak, and then we spend the rest of the day unraveling his fabrications. Hospital ship dispatched to desperately ailing New York City? Nope, she’s in port for repairs and won’t be ready for weeks. Limitless testing, available to all who desire it? No, we’re still miles behind other countries. Miracle malaria drug repurposed to battle coronavirus? Pure fucking fantasy. The doddering old bastard is simply incapable of learning, he really thinks he can lie his way out of this shit. And before you even ask, no, fuckhead, I don’t think COVID-19 will go away if you offer it some of your father’s money.

While the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits clearly doesn’t have the first fucking clue how to lead the nation through this emergency, you really can’t deny his natural, pampered-rich-boy, talent for blame-throwing. He’s a fucking savant when it comes to passing the buck. And so naturally, his focus isn’t on combating the coronavirus, but rather on rebranding it as “the China virus,” because stoking white nationalist hatred is a lot easier than, y’know…leadership. He’s hampered America’s response at every turn; we don’t have enough tests, enough masks, enough hospital beds, enough respirators, but thanks to the Grand Wizard Grifter what we do have is a spike in anti-Asian hate crimes. I hate him so very, very, much.

When he’s not seasoning the already hopelessly befouled stew that is our news cycle with his trademark blend of incompetence and racism, President Crotchrot likes to offer his what-if-Marie-Antoinette-was-an-elderly-jackass-who-couldn’t-tie-a-necktie thoughts on class conflict. When asked how, precisely, wealthy NBA players were able to get tested while so many patients, and even ER personnel were left up shit creek sans paddle, he mused that this was simply “the story of life,” no doubt fantasizing about the fast-approaching day when his lower-class media critics would be ground to mulch and sprinkled across one of his tacky-ass golf courses.

As we head towards negotiations for the massive stimulus package to rescue the economy from Fat Q*Bert’s historic, murderous, blunders, you’ll no doubt be shocked, SHOCKED, to learn that in the early draft of the Republican version of the bill, “about 22 million people earning under $40,000 a year would see no benefit.” Just like Wee Don can’t give up his bigotry, Senate Republicans can’t resist any opportunity to stick it to the working poor. We’re probably less than a month away from Mitch McConnell calling a press conference to suggest A Modest Proposal For Preventing the Children of Poor People From Being a Burthen to Their Parents or Country, and For Making Them Beneficial to the Publick.

We’re all worried about each other during these tumultuous times, but I want you to rest your head easy tonight, knowing that while untold thousands are infected, and perhaps even dying, Senator Richard Burr is gonna be okay. See, Dick (Can I can him Dick? I’m gonna call him Dick.), being a big fancy Senator and all, had access to the latest, greatest, information and intelligence on the coronavirus and its spread, which is to say, the motherfucker knew what was coming.

…and, like any decent human being would, he immediately informed the public of the danger they were in, right? Right? I mean, warning your constituents about the imminent outbreak of a deadly disease, that’s…that’s a mighty low ethical bar to clear, don’tcha think? Well, Dick, because he’s such a dick, kept that information to himself, save for a handful of wealthy donor chums. Oh, and he took his insider information and used it to dump a million bucks or so in stocks, before his money got wiped out in the inevitable market plunge alongside all those loser plebs’ retirement accounts HAW HAW HAW SUCK IT, PEASANTS.

Folks, if I get the coronavirus and die, cremate my body, shove a funnel into Richard Burr’s traitorous mouth, and force every single grain of me down his rat-bastard throat. That is my last wish. 

And just as your blood got to boiling at the realization that one of the very public servants tasked with getting us the fuck out of this shitstorm is in fact nothing but a dirtbag germ war profiteer, enriching himself while leaving the rest of us to get sick and die, you learned that ANOTHER Senator, Georgia’s never-faced-an-electorate, appointed-by-illegitimate-Governor-Brian-Kemp Kelly Loeffler, pulled the EXACT SAME SHIT, and I assume by now you’re exploding with rage like a Warner Brothers cartoon, skin turned bright red, smoke blasting out of your ears to the sound of shrieking train whistles.

If anybody had concerns about Strawberry Shartcake’s mental capacity during a time of extreme stress, boy howdy, your concerns were well-founded. In today’s press briefing/propagandathon, NBC News’ Peter Alexander asked him the entirely reasonable question, “What do you say to Americans who are scared?” and holy balls of pure fuck, the President of the United States staged the most horrifyingly pathetic (or pathetically horrifying?) authoritarian meltdown, like the spoiled bastard child of Joseph Stalin and Richie Rich (come to think of it, has anyone tested his DNA on that one?).

What’s nuts is, this was such a softball question, Sean Hannity would be embarrassed to ask it. It’s a lay-up, you dolt. “Hey, people are scared, say something comforting!” “NO THANK YOU I WOULD PREFER TO PISS MYSELF SO HARD I TEAR A HOLE THROUGH MY DIAPER AND EVEN MY RIDICULOUS CLOWN PANTS IDEALLY ON LIVE TELEVISION IF AT ALL POSSIBLE” and anyhow, I don’t think Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops has this whole “Comforter in Chief” thing down just yet.

And yeah, everything else is just peachy fuckin’ keen. The stock market keeps on reenacting Jules Verne novels, homebound dumbasses are clogging their plumbing with disinfectant wipes, Republicans in Kentucky are STILL pushing voter suppression laws, and we’re all trapped at home watching the death toll rise in Italy, knowing that our own country could have learned from their mistakes but instead decided that learning is for cucks, but hey, I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance.

Ok, folks, I’m tapping out for the week. So far, my beer hoard has held up, but I’m taking it one day at a time. Stay safe, stay home, and wash those hands, dammit! I’ll see y’all soon.