Y’know, I spent a long, frustrating, and ultimately futile afternoon at the DMV yesterday, and that felt like a soothing Caribbean vacation next to the goddamn news. Plus, no residual sand in any bodily crevices. Fuck it, send me back.

A federal appeals court ruled that the Dopey Dotard with Diminutive Digits isn’t allowed to block you on Twitter just because you point out that he’s a drooling baboon’s ass who everybody hates and who cheats at golf and who dresses like a fourth grader that got into Dad’s closet and who Salma Hayek will never, ever, ever, go out with, so feel free to hop online and fill those comments sections with articles about his 20+ sexual assault accusations, it’s your constitutional right!

Hey, we learned that the whole ridiculous “Hillary Clinton murdered Seth Rich with her bare hands and then ate him with the hot sauce she carries in her purse to pander with before burying the remains on top of Vince Foster” conspiracy theory was concocted by Russian intelligence! I bet this news makes the frothy fringe folks, both left and right, who spread that garbage around back in 2016, much more discerning and responsible going forward. I’m particularly looking forward to a thoughtful, long-overdue, retraction and apology from Sean Hannity. Also looking forward to checking my unicorn traps later, I’m feeling lucky.

Federal judges are not down with the Shart Administration’s attempt to sneak a shiny new team of lawyers into their bullshit census case, because it turns out the judicial system isn’t fucking Celebrity Wife Swap. I think the last remaining strategy available to William Barr is to tell John Roberts that it was his poor old mother’s dying wish that he do all he could to institutionalize white supremacy in this nation, and how can you deny that sweet woman such a simple request? (More on this in a bit…)

Looks like Tangerine Idi Amin’s pathetic little Come as Your Favorite Despot costume party on July 4th bankrupted Washington, D.C.’s security/anti-terrorism fund, because right-wing populism means American citizens’ safety is almost as important as Dear Leader’s frail ego…but not quite. Hey, Littlefinger, next time you want to let America know you couldn’t pass a fourth grade history test, just send a tweet, it’s cheaper.

The real-time documenting of the increasingly-rapid mental deterioration of the Commander-in-Chief of the most awesome military force in human history continued at a signing ceremony for an executive order aimed at fighting kidney disease. It was like watching a pork rind give a TED Talk. At the rate he’s declining, he’ll be limited to grunts and squeals by the time the debates roll around.

Seems there’s a wee Pencelet running for Governor down in Mississippi, who refused to grant a female reporter permission to accompany him on a campaign trip, because he thinks all women are so Thirsty for Theocrats that she would immediately demand intercourse (probably butt stuff, too) the very first moment they were left alone together, and he is a man of Gawd, by gum! Observing young Robert Foster, with his Great Clips haircut and his medieval value system, it’s really sort of adorable that he imagines anyone anywhere would want to fuck him. Or make him governor of anything larger than toaster oven. But you gotta admire his confidence.

Tucker Carlson, who somehow manages to be a white supremacist despite looking like somebody glued a roadkill wig onto a gym sock that some teenager keeps under his bed to jerk off into, launched a shockingly-racist-even-by-2019 standards attack on Congresswoman Ilhan Omar, a fear-mongering diatribe that surely made the David Dukes and Richard Spencers of the world wet themselves with glee that you can not only get away with this sort of thing now, but use it to sell advertising on cable television.

Bombarded with calls to resign JUST because he once used his power as a U.S. Attorney to make life as easy as possible for a serial child molester, Labor Secretary Alex Acosta held a press conference to inform America that it was all those lazy child victims who were to blame, and certainly not Alex Acosta. Creepy old freak practically suggested statues should be built in his honor, for securing a few months of diet-jail work release for a fucking sex trafficker. Oh, and former Florida state attorney Barry Krischer says Alex is full of shit anyway. Anyway, between the depravity and the dishonesty and the refusal to take responsibility, Acosta’ll probably be the GOP presidential nominee in 2024.

As for Il Douche himself, he went to great lengths to explain that despite his well-documented history of bragging about ogling naked teenagers, he stopped palling around with this particular pervert a long time ago, and honestly, hardly attended any parties with just him, Epstein, and 28 girls. And yes, we’re literally auctioning off strippers at one of my sleazy-ass golf resorts, why do you ask?

The threatened Trump/Miller nationwide ICE raids are apparently back on for the weekend, because while the Grand Wizard Grifter cannot deliver better jobs, or higher wages, or superior health care, or lower taxes, or, frankly, so much as an extra Whatchamacallit bar every month or so, he CAN use the awesome power of the state to terrorize minorities, and honestly, his base wants that more than any dumb ol’ quality-of-life improvements. “I just sleep a little better at night, knowing there are frightened children, sleeping on concrete, in cages, crying out for their mothers, y’know?” one Trump voter told a New York Times reporter in a diner in some burned-out manufacturing town where the life expectancy is 52.

Paul Ryan, desperate to rewrite his legacy as the guy who enabled Trumpism at every turn despite being the guy who enabled Trumpism at every turn, believes he can rehab his image by giving interviews where he insists he was thinking really disapproving thoughts back when he aimed Shart Garfunkel’s wee weenie as he pissed all over the Constitution. Bro, you held the door open for fascism in America, and you did for tax cuts for the rich, which working people loathe, and which won’t survive the first year of the next administration anyway. That’s your legacy. Learn to love it. Or don’t. I don’t give a fuck.

Conservatives are still sputtering mad at the United States women’s national soccer team, which I kinda get; after all, Rapinoe and co. didn’t need foreign interference and a quirk of the electoral college to win. Ben Shapiro, Jesse Watters, Squeezably Soft Telefascist Sebastian Gorka…are there any rage-filled, subpar, white dudes who AREN’T melting down in the face of authentic American excellence?   

With all the turmoil facing the United States, at home and abroad, President Gas Station Urinal Cake somehow figured the best of use of his time was to convene a gaggle of the skeeviest cretins in the right-wing jagoffosphere to whine about his Twitter follower count. Kids in cages, health care for millions on the line in court, and your President is seething with jealousy at Taylor Swift’s superior social media clout. Seeing the precise flock of assholes who make up Trump’s devoted online army (though the anti-Semitic cartoonist had to back out, alas), all gathered in one place, was…zounds.

The House Judiciary Committee unleashed a veritable swarm of new subpoenas, for everyone from Jared Kushner to David Pecker* to Jeff Sessions to Oh, Let’s Say Moe. And of course, these subpoenas will be ignored and/or defied, and House Dems will extend a No Seriously We Mean It deadline, and the whole thing will end up in court somewhere way down the line, but right now we’re in like, the fourth or fifth episode of the Netflix original series, where everything’s been set up but it’s too soon to get to the climax, so we have to wade through a bunch of filler, like perhaps a few scenes from Jerry Nadler’s personal life, like maybe a long-lost sibling he never knew about turns up, or he tries to lose a bunch of weight for a wedding. Point is, shit’s gonna be boring for a bit.

An NRCC fundraising e-mail apparently decided that while an image of Colin Kaepernick peacefully kneeling was unsettling enough, if they REALLY wanted to scare some cash out of frightened old white people, why not darken his skin a bit? Anyway, here’s Dinesh D’Souza to explain why Democrats are the actual racists, because of something that happened in 1894.

Twitter went down this afternoon, leaving me alone with my thoughts for a long, horrifying, hour. IF I CAN’T PEPPER TED CRUZ’S TIMELINE WITH ZODIAC KILLER JOKES I DON’T KNOW WHO I AM, OKAY?

…but it came back, and all was well.

Snatching additional defeat from the jaws of one already-humiliating defeat, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot backed down from his plan to make the census whiter than a Rascal Flatts concert, for the second time in two weeks. He is truly an innovator in the field of losing. He’s the Steve Jobs of failure, the Da Vinci of defeat, the Somebody Else Famous of Another Synonym for Losing, fuck it, I’ve been drinking.

Oh, and for extra fun, Fat Q*Bert invited the whole what-if-they-fed-everybody-in-Arkham-Asylum-nothing-but-bath-salts crew from his silly “social media summit” to sit in the front row at his public capitulation, giving them the opportunity to behave like poo-flinging children in the Rose Garden, which they did. The highlight was surely Seb Gorka, who really seems to think of himself as a tough guy despite being a bloated old fop, trying to pick a fight with a journalist.

Fuck, y’all, I’m getting out of here before the rule of threes kicks in and I have to read something else about Gorka tonight. Stay safe out there, Resisters…see ya soon!

*Tee hee