Okay, Reverse Xmas is almost upon us. Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night. A bumpy night that lasts four years. Plus, everyone else in the car will be shrieking and biting and farting the entire time. I begged my doctor to prescribe me a 1,460 day NyQuil dose, but she refused.

Well, Joe Biden delivered his farewell address to the nation. “Hey, sorry for all the peace n’ prosperity, I never woulda bothered creating all those jobs if I knew all y’all were after was excuses to ingest livestock medication. Anyway, you should probably look up the word ‘oligarchy’ before those billionaire social media moguls erase it from the internet.”

Yessir, this kakistocrat cabal is ready to hit the ground…well, not exactly “running,” but certainly at high velocity, face and/or groin first. The operational theory seems t’be We Assume You Were Kidding About the Whole Price of Eggs Thing, Anyway We’re Cutting Your Boss’ Taxes.

And all I’m saying, you guys, is that your plan to end American democracy forever best be AIRTIGHT this time. Like, intercept Clarence Thomas’ letter to Santa, and don’t get stingy about the dimensions of the proposed statue garden.

I say let ‘em squawk about their “mandate” all day long, while they piss away what limited good will they’ve been granted on pettiness and spite. OH CALIFORNIA WANTS DISASTER RELIEF HUH WELL WE DEMAND DRAG QUEEN CHAIN GANGS TO SWEEP FOREST FLOORS AND ALSO GAVIN NEWSOM HAS TO DO THE TRUFFLE SHUFFLE!!!!

…okay. I’m sure Laura Ingraham is super impressed. The rest of us can’t help but wonder what you weirdos are going to do about our stubbornly ballooning omelette budgets. I like chorizo in mine, so if some sausage magnate could kick a million or two into the inaugural fund, maybe we can carve out a lil’ tariff exemption.

Or perhaps this “Cabinet” they’re putting together could help out, they seem like a basically decent, rational, well intentioned, if mildly flawed bunch, so…hang on, I was looking at a Wikipedia article about Batman villains, let me click over to the correct tab.

…oh. OH.

So, wait, we’re actively facilitating our own national decline now? When was this decided? Did I miss a meeting?

These confirmation hearings…zounds. It’s like Flood the Zone with Shit: Executive Branch Edition. Like, I don’t think anyone ever picked Marco Rubio for their fantasy Cabinet*, but these days, anybody semi-literate, without credible sexual assault allegations gets waved right through.

Pam Bondi? Let’s see…openly corrupt…active participant in the criminal conspiracy to overturn the 2020 election…clearly willing to violate norms and laws to persecute enemies of the Reich…aw heck, gotta keep my powder dry for the guy who wants to bring measles back! Curse you, shit-flooded zone!

But Pete Hegseth? Really? Granted, the MAGA talent pool resembles nothing so much as a meth den septic tank, but surely you can find somebody who hasn’t been denounced as an abuser of women by his own frickin’ MOM.

I always treasure the moment a powerful Republican formally snuffs out those final vestiges of decency and self-respect, strapping on the ceremonial gimp mask that identifies you as Donald Trump’s personal property for all time, and Joni Ernst’s enthusiastic self-degradation this week made Lindsey Graham look like Thomas More.

Ernst, a sexual assault survivor herself, has made combating sexual abuse within the military a signature issue, so of course allowing Hegseth anywhere near the Pentagon should be out of the question. Which shouldn’t be a problem anyway, between his extensively documented history of drinking on the job and, oh yeah, his complete and total lack of qualifications.

On the other hand, I suppose after enabling an adjudicated rapist’s anti-constitutional crime spree, what’s one more abuser, more or less? And hey, if you simply refuse to meet with the accuser, maybe you can tell the mirror there wasn’t enough evidence to know for certain. Shoot, maybe you’ll even convince yourself.

Maybe. But I doubt it.

Anyway, I guess now you know how all those castrated hogs felt, huh, Senator?

Markwayne Mullin doesn’t understand the fuss over a Defense Secretary with a substance abuse problem anyway. “What’s the big deal, we’re all fucked up all the time!” Mullin told CNN’s Kaitlin Collins, “Shit, me n’ Tommy Tuberville took turns snorting bath salts off Rick Scott’s noggin right before the hearing!”

Still, is it asking too much of the Senate GOP to sober up long enough to spell-check their visual aids? Or, barring that, add a reasonably diligent third grader to the staff?

Nancy Mace is challenging her colleagues to fistfights now, so I figure American history textbooks’ll need to remove those amusing little sidebars about the caning of Senator Charles Sumner, cuz without the novelty, what’s the point?

Meanwhile, in a worrying development for democracy at home and abroad, pro-Ukraine Republican Mike Turner has been removed as Chairman of the House Intelligence Committee, though he has avoided exile to Putin’s brigade of North Korean cannon fodder…so far.

So, it appears Co-President-Elect Elon Musk cheats at video games, not only paying better players to level up his characters in the incomprehensibly sad hope of impressing internet randos, but doing so clumsily enough that said randos could not help but notice, earning the world’s wealthiest human widespread, richly-deserved mockery. I paid a bunch of bloggers to come up with something, anything more cringingly pathetic, but this one stumped us.

Incidentally…hey, Bannon, you can’t even win one lousy power struggle against a dork who cheats at video games? Thought prison was supposed to make you tough.

You may want to bookmark this clip of the founding meeting of Alina Habba and Andrew Tate’s mutual admiration society. Y’know, in case you ever swallow poison and require a quick, thorough purge. (Don’t tell the bossman you’ve got a new favorite rapist, Alina, he’s the jealous type.)

Everybody thinks Sam Alito was joking, but given that he pulled a constitutional right for Donald Trump to commit crimes out of his ass, don’t be surprised when the plumber in your favorite Pornhub video starts spouting overdubbed William F. Buckley quotes at the lonely housewife he’s servicing.

Vivek Ramaswamy announced a run for Ohio Governor, on a Bow to Your Cultural Superior, You Worthless, Lazy Plebs platform, no doubt hoping any viable Democratic competition dies in the stampede to run against him.

Celebrity anti-Semite Mel Gibson went on Joe Rogan’s podcast to dementedly insist ivermectin cures cancer, (it doesn’t) so it should go without saying that he’s been invited to join the incoming administration, as a “Special Ambassador to Hollywood,” alongside Sylvester Stallone, and whatever’s left of Jon Voight. Henceforth, Robert Downey Jr. will no longer be portraying Dr. Doom in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but rather Dr. Fauci, as the Avengers battle the dread DEEP STATE.

Anyway, apparently the inauguration has been moved indoors, partially so there’re plenty of extinguishers handy when the oath of office Bible bursts into flames, but mostly because our “strongman” is far too feeble to endure a little chilly weather.

Okay, I dunno about you, but I’m gonna celebrate the last few hours before my country reinserts its head up its own ass. The goal is to never get sober enough to spell “military,” so if you feel like helping your friendly neighborhood Shower Cap keep his beer fridge filled, well, the tip jar now accepts Venmo, PayPal and Cash App.

As always, I encourage you to sign up on the email list at showercapblog.com, and follow @john_luzar. And this week more than any other, stay safe out there, my friend…

*You know you’ve got one.