Look, I’m not saying quarantine is getting to me, but lately I’ve taken to writing EAT ME on everything in the fridge, because at some point, something has to make me magically grow right out of Shitty Wonderland, and I’ll wake up safe in my bed, right? RIGHT? C’mon, pull up a toadstool, we’ll go over the news:

You’ve seen the shiny new Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide, right? It’s got all you need to know about the closest races for the U.S. House and Senate, and if you dig this weird little poo joke blog, I think you’ll find the Guide useful and amusing. Check it out, and pitch in if you can!

But if you can’t, don’t worry about it; times is hard, y’know? The whole dang point of the Democratic Party is helping folks when they’re struggling; we’re not like Arizona’s Participation Trophy Senator, Martha McSally, who literally begged her supporters to starve themselves so they could send her flailing campaign more money. Yes, the very same Martha McSally who opposed expanded unemployment benefits for the filthy takers thinks you should “fast a meal” so she can stay in Washington, with her boot on your neck. Can’t make this shit up.

Well, a little while back, when we first heard Melania was redoing the Rose Garden, we knew it’d turn out shitty, and sure enough, it turned out shitty. I’m mostly just grateful she didn’t drop a couple of gold toilets amongst the bushes and call it a day; remember, it can always get worse with these jerks.

So, Lil’ Donnie Dotard rang the bell in the town square, and when we all came running, he squeaked, “Scandal! Shame! The dastardly Democrats have stripped God from the Pledge of Allegiance,” and we went, “oh, it’s only the turd who cried wolf,” because he was lying again, of course, and so we joined hands and danced in a circle around him, chanting, “You don’t know how to run against Biden!” because in this scenario we’re all little kids, was that unclear?

This is what passes for strategic brilliance in that Adderall-addled brain: an easily-debunked lie that makes him look like, well, like someone who needs a basic cognitive test. Still, in MAGA nation, this will be accepted as gospel truth, and if you don’t believe me, try asking that old high school chum who posts Q memes what he thinks, but only if you’re willing to get an earful about Godless Joe and his heathen antifa hordes.

Of course, here in the real world, the only folks I see taking God out of anything are wearing red ball caps that say Made in China on the tag. Recent polling reveals fifty-fucking-seven percent of Republicans find the coronavirus death toll, well over 180,000 as I type this, “acceptable,” and if you haven’t heard Jeff Foxworthy’s ”You Might be in a Death Cult if….” routine, this is pretty much the whole thing.

Such a horrifyingly passive little word in this context, “acceptable.” Anyway, one of things I like best about Joe Biden is how he doesn’t ask me to die for him. Or even skip a meal!

I guess there are secret recordings of Sharty McFly’s sister talking about what a turd-gargling rat bastard he is, and…I confess, I don’t get why anyone expects this to change anything. There are millions of people saying the same things right this very minute. Donald Trump’s flaws are wildly agreed upon; indeed, none of us have been granted a moment’s respite from them for four years. There are people who care that the President is an amoral psychopath, and there are people who don’t; we’re just waiting see how many of each live in Wisconsin.

The House of Representatives returned from recess to pass, with surprising bipartisan support, a bill designed to rescue the United States Postal Service from an executive branch hellbent on sabotaging it from within in order to undermine the coming election. Boy, that sentence’ll surprise a few kids in the history classes of the future, won’t it? “Wait, wait, I tuned out around the moon landing, who did what to the Post Office, now?”

Or maybe they’ll ask, “what’s a Post Office?” before leaving their offerings at the feet of the Ivanka statue outside the school. You’ve checked to make sure you’re registered to vote, yes?

Anyway, the bill now heads to the decency graveyard Mitch McConnell calls his desk, a reminder that it’s crucial to take back the Senate this fall, and have I mentioned I’ve got an Action Guide for that?

Also, I guess the Postmaster General doesn’t know what it costs to mail a postcard, but he still gets to hang onto the power to sabotage a crucial piece of electoral infrastructure, endangering the health of rural Americans and veterans, and crotch-stomping already pandemic-battered small businesses, collateral damage Louis DeJoy and his wannabe dictator bosses do not give a single fuck about.

Cool country we’ve got here. Very first world. Not at all a shithole.

So, President Crotchvoid called himself a little press conference over the weekend to pimp his latest untested coronavirus miracle cure, (Hydroxychloroquine…now with Splenda!) but fortunately, the grown-ups in his administration got out ahead of him and he wound up sulking away after a couple of softballs from friendly propaganda outlets.

Really looking forward to the night before Election Day, when he’ll proclaim via tweet that he discovered a Covid cure himself by mixing the drinks at the soda fountain at Chuck E. Cheese, also Q is totally real and all Democrats are pedophiles SLAY THEM MY UNHOLY CHILDREN OF THE CANDY CORN!*

New York Attorney General Letitia James sued the Shart Organization; apparently they’ve been lying about the size of the Velveeta Vulgarian’s financial assets, inflating or deflating them willy-nilly, like Eric’s high school girlfriend, to suit their fraudulent schemes. Y’know, once the law is done catching up to these cheap career crooks, I hope they’re not allowed to serve their many sentences concurrently. See, you gotta think ahead, folks.

You’ll no doubt be shocked to learn that George and Kellyanne Conway are shitty parents, though they may have finally been scared straight by their teenage daughter’s sudden, publicly-declared pursuit of legal emancipation. Anyway, this all feels like a Tennessee Williams acid freakout, and I’d like to move on to literally anything else now.

So I guess Jerry Falwell, Jr. likes watching the pool boy fuck his wife, and between this and the recent Ben Shapiro news, one has to wonder if any prominent conservative male has ever actually sired a biological child. When you go to Republican picnics, you meet a lot of kids with mom’s personal trainer’s eyes, y’know?

Celebrity Punch Receiver Richard Spencer thought he’d be a clever little ratfucker and endorse Joe Biden, as though there’s some great, culture-wide uncertainty as to which side the Nazis are on here. Smilin’ Joe wasted little time telling Spencer where he could shove his endorsement, noting of Dickie Boy’s most famous public interaction that there was a very fine person on only one side of that fist.

Anyway, it’s Republican National Convention week, though one wonders what the point of a convention is, when the GOP has finally, formally proclaimed, “Platforms are for Falwells, we’re a cult of personality now!” Shit, that’s the one thing these gaslighting shitweasels are willing to be honest about, and if that doesn’t elicit a mad cackle from your weary ass, I don’t know what will.

I decided to skip the first night of the proceedings, because I don’t hate myself, but luckily, any sense of FOMO I may experience doesn’t extend to watching angry white people screaming. Sorry, Metallica.

But looking at a few video clips today, wooooooooooo…as many others have pointed out, it looks like we found the kink in the cocaine supply chain. And as for Junior’s odious mate, the clearly-never-hinged-in-the-first-place Kimberly Guilfoyle, I mean, if there’s a swingable “I just want to see my high school drama teacher play Medea on meth and I’ll vote for whoever gives me that” demographic out there that none of us know about, she certainly sewed it up.

Oh, and everybody call child services on RNC speaker Abby Johnson, who posted a video to YouTube welcoming all the future racial profiling her adopted biracial son has to look forward to under the white supremacist police state. Someday, that poor child is going to find that video, and even the fucking Conways won’t have any advice for Abby and her deeply warped definitions of love and fairness.

A mob of maskless wingnuts violently stormed Idaho’s special legislative session, demanding immediate coronavirus infection, or something equally stupid, who gives a shit, because being asked to be a fucking adult in the name of public health is tyranny, apparently. Of course, it’s actually the rest of us chumps, with our silly sense of civic duty, who are trapped beneath the tyranny of this tantrum-throwing, covid-spreading minority, right? Oh, how that irony sends twisted little giggles echoing down the hallway of this apartment I STILL CAN’T FUCKING LEAVE.

I can’t leave, but I can have beer delivered, and for tonight at least, that will have to do. I really would be grateful if you’d check out that Action Guide, friends. See you soon, stay safe out there.

* Holy fuck. “Children of the Candy Corn.” How did that take me almost four years?