Trapped inside due to the bitter cold, with nothing but the news to pass the time, I assure you I have gone quite mad. It’s like The Shining, only less fun and more racist. Let’s plow through it, so we can all get to the weekend…

So, this week, the President of the United States attacked his own intelligence agency chiefs for accurately assessing the threats facing the nation, in contrast to the baseless lies he pulls out of his ass for the sake of what he perceives to be political advantage. That is a thing that happened, here in the real world. He’s mad at the intelligence community for prioritizing national defense over backing him up on his bullshit.

We focus a lot on the incompetence and awfulness of this regime, but I think we should take time to appreciate the miracle that this dolt hasn’t gotten us all killed yet. I’m certainly grateful. As a great man once said, “enjoy every sandwich.”

Anyway, in the latest installment of Orwell For Absolute Fucking Morons, Dorito Mussolini insists the chiefs were “totally misquoted and totally taken out of context” in their (checks notes) public testimony that was broadcast on national television. It’s like he doesn’t even care enough to work at the gaslighting anymore. The spark is gone, is all I’m sayin’. I want a divorce.

Hey, I have a new favorite Republican! Yeah, Congressman Mark Walker introduced the BLAKE Act, named for everybody’s least favorite pervy pajama-clad prick, aiming to make it illegal to lobby Congress if you happen to have any outstanding taxpayer-funded sexual-harassment payoff debts. That’s some top-notch legislative trolling, Mr. Walker. I salute you.

So, when I started seeing the story circulating, about how Weehands McNodick had a previously undisclosed meeting with Daddy Vlad Putin at the G-20, with no American note-taker or translator present, I wondered why this old news was making the rounds again. No, Cap, this is a DIFFERENT Putin meeting without an American note-taker or translator. A whole new one. We need to work out some sort of system to differentiate these note-taker-and-translator-less meetings, because this shit is getting confusing. Anyway, NO COLLUSION, clearly.

Susan Collins went on teevee to hem and haw about whether or not she’d endorse Baron Golfin von Fatfuk in 2020 and do you have any idea how hard it is to write about Susan Collins and her incessant, theatrical, dithering without invoking Lucy and the football? It’s totally accurate, it’s right fucking there, but you used it last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and so did everyone else, because that’s the whole gag with Lucy and football, ISN’T IT?

Sarah Slanders says she thinks God wanted her lazy, stupid, hateful, thieving, lying, pussy-grabbing boss to become President. God. GOD. Of course, growing up in the Huckabee household, “God” is a humor-butchering, dog-murdering, child-molester-enabling, deity, so this kinda makes sense.

There’s actually been quite a lot of religious delusion in Shartopia lately, with Steve Bannon claiming he was “doing the Lord’s work” in serving his Turd Emperor. Presumably the Lord was primarily interested in getting rid of all the gin.

Great Caesar’s Ghost, it was fuckin’ COLD this week, wasn’t it? It was so fuckin’ cold, at least 21 people died, but Kentucky Governor Matt Bevin is so eager to lose his reelection campaign this November that he called his state’s schoolchildren whiny little sissies for taking a day off to avoid the life-threatening conditions. Bevin briefly explored the idea of going door to door to call each individual child in Kentucky “cuck” to their face, but he quickly discovered that it was in fact really fuckin’ cold outside.

In addition, the polar vortex presented Republicans with an irresistible opportunity to demonstrate their proud ignorance of all things scientific, creating some spectacularly amusing self-owns in their quest to use the weather to dunk on clean energy. My gift to you tonight is the glorious smugness on Jesse Watters’ face as he trumpets his belief that solar panels absorb heat rather than light. Also, Tucker Carlson seems to believe that coldness somehow destroys wind, some sort of supernatural meteorological version of rock-paper-scissors, maybe?

Ultimately the greatest renewable resource in America is the idiocy of the conservative movement, and we need to find some way to harness that shit.

Hey look, measles is back. Measles. Here we sit, comfortably atop the food chain, confident in our superiority as we put a game show host in charge of our nuclear arsenal and un-eradicate diseases. If I were an eager, young, up-and-coming, species looking to leap up the evolutionary ladder, this is when I’d make my move.

The Howard Schultz campaign is going remarkably well, assuming that Schultz is running for President of Getting Dragged. Oddly, the slogan Yes We Can (Keep Howard Schultz’s Taxes Low) has failed to go viral, and if this doddering old nitwit sticks around, I honestly may need a whole second blog to chronicle the turds that roll out of his mouth.

Tangerine Idi Amin’s “spiritual advisor,” Paula White, says God will beat you up unless you send Paula White your entire salary from January. I’m not personally inclined to believe this, but I want you to have the information you need to make this decision for yourself. If Paula’s God is also the Huckabee family’s God, there could be real consequences here. Anyway, if you don’t buy me a beer, God’s gonna rip your dick off and feed it to the pigs.

Lindsey Graham has wasted no time in throwing the full force of his new position as Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman behind efforts to address the greatest injustice in the American legal system today: the oppression of Roger Stone. Lindsey wants answers, dammit! WHY was Stone arrested JUST because he seems to have broken several laws? WHY did the FBI come to his house to arrest him, rather than simply sending a respectful invitation, on scented stationary, perhaps accompanied by a mint or a truffle? WHY is his pointy little head so pointy?

Anyway, Roger is potentially facing a gag order from the judge in his case, which, for a such a loudmouth doofus, may well constitute cruel and unusual punishment. By the way, my current plan is to go back to school to obtain a journalism degree so I can land a prison interview with this sanctimonious ratfucker where I don’t ask any questions, I just chuckle and eat a steak and maybe some key lime pie right in front of him.

Well, Virginia Governor Ralph Northam has come out for legalizing abortion a full five years after a child’s birth, ideally in some sort of satanic ritual sacrifice scenario, to hear Republicans tell it. Anyway, before I could finish this paragraph, Ralphie landed in much deeper trouble, thanks to the worst yearbook scandal this side of Roy Moore. Now I’m just waiting to see if he resigns before I get this post up tonight. (So far, nope.)

Now that the government is open and the President has started sleeping in his new quarters in the doghouse in Nancy Pelosi’s backyard, House Democrats got to work on their first major bill, a pretty-dang-awesome package of pro-Democracy, anti-corruption goodness. Republicans are…not taking it well. “No fair!” whinged Jim Jordan, “If you let people vote we’ll be held accountable for all the shitty things we do! Just because we have massively unpopular ideas and proposals doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have the power to enact them!”

Mitch McConnell is particularly incensed at the idea of making Election Day a national holiday, calling it a “power grab.” Yes, Wrinkly Gamera, that is the whole point. It IS a power grab. We’re looking to seize power away from the Kochs and the Mercers and the Adelsons and all your other supervisors, and put it back in the hands of the American people. To some, this is called “Democracy.”

Somehow, the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits, despite suffering the two biggest defeats of his political career (that’s the midterms and the shutdown, for those of you keeping score at home) thanks to his bonehead pursuit of the Big Dumb Wall, keeps right on mindlessly regurgitating the same old arguments that have failed him so many times already. Like, you know how in Jurassic Park, the raptors never strike the same part of the electric fence twice? Donnie is the raptor who gets shocked, then puts the wire in his mouth. Then, when he wakes up an hour later, charred and still smoking, he puts the wire up his ass.

Because they are geniuses, Hairpiece Himmler and his party have been spreading news of a massive Fentanyl bust at the border as evidence that the wall is in fact not dumb. Yes, the bust that was made at a legal entry point, right where everybody says the drugs are coming in, using existing, non-wall, methods. Nothing says “drastic new measures are necessary” quite like the current system working perfectly.

And of course Fat Q*Bert still thinks he can get around Congress by declaring a state of emergency. He just needs Mitch to tell him how long the legislative process will take to play out, so he can pencil the emergency into his day-planner.

Bad news, everybody! The entire Mueller investigation has been revealed as a fraudulent witch hunt, because the previously unknown recipient of a call Turdmaggot, Jr. made to blocked numbers around the time of his famous Wanna Buy Some Treason meeting turned out to be not his dirtbag father, but rather his dirtbag father’s Russia-connected chum. No, it doesn’t make any sense to me either, but Spawn of Shart is taking a victory lap like he won the Super Bowl and five Oscars in the same night.

Speaking of the Bobadook, now he’s telling us that th’Russians weaponized material obtained in the discovery process in a disinformation campaign designed to undermine the investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election. I don’t want to seem partisan, but in light of these ongoing attacks from a hostile foreign power, it would be a nice thing if the President could maybe side with the United States in this conflict. For a change.

A whistleblower, who let America know that Jared Kushner has no fucking business with a high-level security clearance on account of his shadiness, has been suspended without pay. No consequences for Jar-Jar, of course, who will continue to pore through the nation’s classified intelligence for whatever tidbits he can sell to his journalist-dismembering buddy, MBS.

In an act of rat-bastardry so extreme you could only call it “Trumpian,” the Department of Energy threw the state of Nevada a surprise party, only it wasn’t a stripper that popped out of the cake, but half a ton of radioactive waste! Rick Perry would rather ask for forgiveness than permission, it turns out. Or fuck forgiveness, enjoy your plutonium, and no, there’s no return address on the box.

Mike Pompeo, as part of his ongoing effort to make American improbably nostalgic for a blundering goon like Rex Tillerson, announced that the Shart Administration is pulling out of a nuclear arms treaty with Russia, presumably because nobody thinks Dr. Strangelove* is scary anymore. First Donald Trump, now a nuclear arms race? Why are we bringing back all the shittiest parts of the 1980’s? What’s next? A prime time Manimal reboot?

You may have believed that the Presidential Medal of Freedom was reserved for the most accomplished among us, a truly priceless honor. NOPE. Turns out, you can get one for the low low price of 500 grand, provided it’s appropriately laundered through a legal defense fund for the crooked associates of a suitably corrupt-n’-criminal President. I get it if this makes you spontaneously burst out singing “God Bless the USA,” but please respect your neighbors.

In the midst of all the fuckery and madness, it’s always healthy to find reasons to laugh. In that spirit, I’ll leave you with a bit of news that broke during the drafting of this post. It’s Howard Schultz’s first set of approval numbers. WARNING: set down your beverage before clicking.

*or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb