Donald Trump had a problem. A problem called “democracy.” See, he LIKED being President, (well, not the work part, but definitely charging the Secret Service to pee) but those rat-bastard Founding Fathers built all these dumb ol’ “elections” into their dumb ol’ “Constitution,” and smack dab in the middle of an economy you personally wrecked and a pandemic you disastrously mismanaged is nobody’s idea of a great time for a performance review.
Devin “Pigfucker” Nunes was an early adopter of Donald Trump’s unique blend of authoritarianism and kakistocracy, and it’s not hard to understand why; it takes a whole lotta institutional white supremacy to keep men so maliciously mediocre in positions of power.
There is no greater proof that the Republican base has no goddamn sense than Mitch McConnell’s consistently dismal approval rating from voters of his own party; the man is absolute ghoul, yes, and certainly he projects little folksy warmth, but he puts Ws on the board. Big ones. More than anybody I’ve ever seen.
One of Trump’s earliest congressional taint remoras, Ron DeSantis rode a wave of I’m With Stupid first to the Florida GOP’s 2018 gubernatorial nomination, and then, because learning from mistakes is apparently for cucks, to a narrow general election victory.
To level with y’all up front, I think Tucker Carlson is the most dangerous man in America. He’s the mouth of American fascism, and Donald Trump’s unofficial Chief Disinformation Dispenser, and, ultimately, a manufacturer of brownshirts.
Take an unusually weak mind, surgically remove evolution’s hard-won capacity to tell fact from fiction, fill the empty spaces with hate, and you’ve got Marjorie Taylor Greene. Drop that mind in the middle of the I-know-we’re-not-supposed-to-dismiss-MAGA-whites-as-racist-hillbillies-but-COME-ON shithole known as the Georgia 14th, and you’ve got the dumbest, most malicious member of the United States Congress, and ascendant American fascism’s loudest, vilest mouth.
When Rudy Giuliani, having just chugged a bottle of methamphetamine-laced NyQuil, stumbled onstage to deliver his apocalyptic sermon of fear at the 2016 Republican Nation Convention, you knew something was deeply fucked in this country.
Mike Pence is the Patron Saint of Mediocre White Dudes, and the Roman God of Failing Upwards.
A Democrat in his youth, Pence, like many men of limited intelligence, turned to religious conservatism for the convenience of being able to end arguments by claiming God shares his every fear and prejudice, while forgiving his every shortcoming, how convenient.
Secretary of State
Mike Pompeo is one of those performatively pious fake Christians who loves using his loudly-claimed-but-seldom-followed faith like a cudgel while ignoring every single word of the actual Bible, including “and” and “the.”
Secretary of State
Over the course of three decades, Rex Tillerson fucked, bribed, and murdered his way to the top of Exxon Mobil, like some sort of jowlsy Eva Peron.
William Barr actually taught me a valuable lesson. See, I didn’t look too closely at Bill when he was nominated to be Attorney General. After Jeff “Too Racist for the 80’s” Sessions and the masculine toilet guy, honestly, he looked like a nice, refreshing, safe, traditional Republican. An institutionalist who could bring a little much-needed stability.
And then he turned out to be a fascist, and one of the most dangerous enemies of democracy in American history. Whoops. My bad.
Secretary of the Treasury
Steve Mnuchin, like his namesake, the Noise You Make When You’re Dry Heaving After Getting Food Poisoning From Eating Truck Stop Gas Station Roller Hot Pockets on a Road Trip, is deeply unpleasant, and may result in the involuntary voiding of foul-smelling bodily fluids.
Secretary of Defense
Chief of Staff
National Security Advisor
Holy shit, there are Generals all over the place these days, aren’t there?
Retired General James Mattis serves as Secretary of Defense. Retired General John Kelly ran Homeland Security for a bit, before becoming the Lead Executive Branch Babysitter, excuse me, Chief of Staff. H.R. McMaster’s the National Security Advisor, and hell, he’s still on active duty.
Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, third generation of his family to carry the name of a Confedarate piece of trash and also a second Confederate piece of trash, is living his dream. As Velveeta Goebbels’ Attorney General, he’s turning back the clock to a time when women and minorities knew their place, and mediocre white dudes like himself got to run everything, even if they weren’t especially bright.
Ryan Zinke is like if the crappiest robot in Westworld escaped and jumped into conservative politics. He’s such a cartoon cowboy, I bet his right boot says “Andy” on the bottom.
Secretary of Commerce
When a witch’s curse transformed his master into a Beast and his fellow servants into household objects, Wilbur Ross became a decorative garden gnome. Unlike the rest of his compatriots, he ventured out into the world to make his fortune in the realm of shady international finance and money laundering, and when True Love’s Kiss lifted the curse, Wilbur was too far away for the enchantment to reverse, and thus he remains trapped in gnome form forever.
Secretary of Health and Human Services
If the Hippocratic Oath is binding in any sort of spiritual sense, Tom Price is royally fucked, y’all. There is some straight Dante shit awaitin’ him in the afterlife.
Secretary of Housing and Urban Development
Dr. Ben Carson is only in politics because he was rude President Obama to his face. At the 2013 National Prayer Breakfast, a traditionally non-political event, Dr. Ben, having been invited as the keynote speaker, decided to use his time to shit on the President and his policies.
Secretary of Education
Betsy DeVos is what happens when bored white ladies have enough money to really fuck shit up. Turns out, if you’re born rich and marry richer, you don’t have to settle for a book club, you can buy yourself a whole cabinet department!
Administrator of the EPA
Scott Pruitt, like a lot of boys his age, grew up watching Captain Planet cartoons. Unlike most boys his age, he decided that the various sludge-smog-and-toxic-waste-slinging villains were the role models for him.
Ok, fine. Pruitt is ten years too old to have grown up on Captain Planet, but fuck you, that’s a good opening paragraph. Make your own fucking website, you don’t like it.
Chief of Staff
Nobody wants to be Reince Priebus when they grow up. He’s just so immediately recognizable as a weaselly little tapeworm of a man, y’know?
Reince Priebus is the sort of person who would be played by Brad Dourif in a film.
Steve Bannon played Bob Ewell in a high school production of To Kill a Mockingbird, and liked it so much he decided to stay in the character for the rest of his life.
A self-described Leninist, and an outspoken populist*, Bannon wants to kidney-punch the administrative state, give it a wedgie, and steal its lunch money.
Jared Kushner was born on third base and thinks he invented baseball.
Jared’s dad, Charles Kushner, went to jail for tax evasion, illegal campaign donations, and, ahem, “witness tampering,” by which I mean he set his brother-in-law up with a hooker (not, I’m sad to report, of the Pissing Russian variety) and recorded their genital-smushing in order to blackmail him.
Daddy’s Little Girl
Ivanka Trump is what happens when you cross Gwyneth Paltrow with Mussolini’s dumbest, laziest aide-de-camp. Watching her try to sell her father’s fascism as some sort of pro-woman lifestyle brand, marketed in the sickliest imaginable shade of pink, has been one of the most bizarre subplots of this nightmare we can’t seem to pinch ourselves out of.
So, while Melania Trump is perhaps not as shitty as many of the crooks, Nazis, and Nazi crooks who inhabit her dirtbag husband’s world, she manages to impressively shitty in her own right.
When you worked for Akin, things weren’t simple
Cuz he got caught on tape
With legitimate rape
Senior Advisor for Policy
Why is it always the shittiest imaginable white dudes who turn out to be white supremacists?
Stephen Miller, who started balding eleven seconds after his conception, has by all accounts been a sack of monkey shit pretty much every single minute of his life.
Director of Communications
Oh wow, this new Communications Director looks like a real character, huh?
Where to begin? Ok, Anthony Scaramucci first came to –
Wait, what? Really?
White Supremacist Multi-Tool
Kris Kobach is like the protagonist of the white supremacist version of one of those Disney movies where a kid learns to chase his dreams, no matter how big. The kid gets tired of the monotonous grind of burning crosses on just one lawn at a time, and dreams of burning a cross big enough for the whole dang country!
Maybe he has a talking/singing Confederate flag for a sidekick. Named “Bedford.”
Roving Freelance Fascist
As seen in the famed documentary RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, when the Ark of the Covenant was opened on an uncharted island north of Crete, the burning light that issued thereof reduced the Nazi soldiers present to piles of ash and molten flesh. In time, the rains washed the fascist bio-goo into the island’s sewage system, where it mixed with the shit and piss and used tampons and such, and in time it congealed, took the shape of a man (albeit an unattractive one), slapped on a pair of glasses, and Sebastian Gorka was formed.
Somebody Ask Chuck Grassley if it’s OK for Roy Moore to Spend His Money on Booze and High School Girls
‘Evenin’, Resisters. Shower Cap took a mental health day Monday, hope you didn’t miss me. Anyway, it’s just one extra day, how much insanity could I possibly miss in one little ol’ day?
HAHAHAHAH just kidding, it’s 2017 and EVERY DAY is Trapped in a Christian Fundamentalist Haunted House Tripping on Acid-Cut-With-Head-&-Shoulders Day.
Well, the Marmalade Shartcannon shaved a couple million acres off of some national monuments, and I’m pleased to say America is finally great again! That was the one remaining obstruction, folks. Bears Ears National Monument was just too dang big. You’ll feel the benefits of the monument-shrinking-borne prosperity any day now, promise!
Sources say Trump will also call for the shortening of the Washington Monument, for…obvious reasons.
(Quick kudos to the protesters who greeted the Syphilitic Sack of Hamburger Helper Grease in Utah with “Tiny Hands Off Our Lands” signs and Lock Him Up Chants.)
The Supreme Court ruled that Government Cheese Goebbels’ racist travel ban can go into effect pending legal challenges, protecting us from the wave of refugee-committed crimes that stubbornly refuses to manifest in real life. Don’t worry, bump stocks are still legally available at the gun shop nearest to the angriest white guy you know.
Hey, where we at with all the Russia shit?
Oh. Some conservative operative sent an e-mail to a high-ranking Drumpf campaign official literally titled KREMLIN CONNECTION, offering to set up a back-channel meeting between Shart Carney and his shift-supervisor-to-be (that’s Vlad Putin, by the way) using his NRA connections? Great. Now that the NRA’s swept up in this, we just need to get Billy Mitchell, Ryan Braun, and Solomon Grundy looped in, and we’ll have secured the participation of every conceivable American villain.
As if that isn’t enough, you’ve got Fat Q*Bert’s lawyers throwing around shit like “Collusion isn’t a crime,” and “The President can’t obstruct justice because he has super-secret-special President Powerz where he’s above the law,” and folks, it hasn’t even been a YEAR yet.
Suddenly “What did the President know and when did he know it?” seems like an obnoxiously-long FROZEN short before the Pixar feature you paid to see.
Oh, and Rugged Robert Mueller has reportedly subpoenaed records from Deutsche Bank relating to persons and entities linked to the President. Heh. Hope the chair behind the Resolute Desk is upholstered in something waterproof.
Politico added a story about how Shart Houses staffers have devolved into sweaty masses of unhinged paranoia, never knowing who’s wearing a mic, or if Mueller has implanted a transmitter in their molars, or if Stephen Miller’s forehead is really a giant satellite dish that can pick up their innermost thoughts.
Good. Squirm, you traitors.
As the GOP moves to conference with their tax reform bill, where negotiators from the House and Senate will hammer out precisely how much a Republican donor will be required to give to a super PAC before he’s allowed to legally own slaves, the American people are reacting with something less than robust enthusiasm.
Susan Collins, as you know, traded her vote for a fistful of shiny beads and empty promises from the least honest men in human history.
And Paul Ryan wasted little time laughing in her rube face, saying “Don’t be silly, we got her vote, we don’t have to give her shit in return, and also when did we start letting girls in here anyway?”
Congratulations, Senator Collins, on being literally the only human being alive who didn’t see that coming.
Anyway, Republicans are getting weirdly, amusingly, cocky about almost passing a bill that everybody hates, and that will hurt millions of people who will absolutely rise up and boot their aristocrat-lackey asses straight to the private sector at the next available opportunity*
One Trump advisor boasted about how the bill specifically targets constituencies that didn’t vote for Boss Shart, like universities and residents of blue states like California and New York, because plundering your political foes is what American Democracy is all about, right?
Anyway, the little weasel practically spoojed right in his pants as he declared the bill “Death for Democrats.” Hey, enjoy your day, bro. I’ll check in with you on November 7th, 2018…you’ll find reports of our “death” have been greatly exaggerated.
Chuck Grassley helpfully explained how the uber-wealthy are better than the rest of us, because they’re “investors,” while those of you who didn’t do the hard work of Inheriting Daddy’s Money like the Trumps and Kochs did are dirty, whoremongering, wino takers who destroy America every time you go to the movies in search of a fleeting moment of relaxation or pleasure in your worthless lives instead of staying at home flogging yourselves for being such dirty, whoremongering, wino takers.
Multimillionaire Orrin Hatch, having voted himself a fat fuckin’ tax break, opined that there just isn’t enough money for extravagances like health care for children.
John McCain tried to throw himself a little party celebrating his pending 3 millionth Twitter follower, but was instead rewarded for his Government Funded Health Care For Me, Not Thee vote with a mass-unfollowing movement. I hope you ordered an ice-cream cake, and it melted, Senator McCain.
And Dean Heller threw a constituent with stage 4 cancer out of a town hall for the high crime of asking her Senator why he voted to kill her in order to cut Princess Ivanka’s taxes, apparently because he lives in mortal fear of being re-elected.
Me, if I was responsible for a bill that polls the way this monstrosity polls (and without manufactured horseshit like death panels, I’d add), I’d put away the noisemakers and party hats.
Didja see this thing where alt-right women (I don’t get it either.) are upset that the rage-filled, dickless, gamergate losers of their movement are, shock-of-all-shocks, violently misogynistic? It’s like sprinkling ground glass on your breakfast cereal and wondering where the tummy ache came from.
In economic news, the Drumpf Administration moved to make it legal to…wait, WHAT? This can’t be right. To…to make it legal for restaurant managers to steal servers’ tips? Are we this evil already? Does the cabinet meet in that Legion of Doom headquarters in the swamp? What’s next? Mandatory oil spills in wildlife refuges? Tax write-offs for every puppy kicked?
Because science is for Cucks, Dorito Mussolini is filling science-related posts in his administration with political hacks lacking advanced degrees. Maybe it’s cuz Rick Perry wants to be the smartest guy in the room, and to accomplish that feat you’ve basically got to appoint egg salad sandwiches as his undersecretaries.
And the inevitable descent of the Republican Party into the sulfur-belching hellscape of I Guess We Endorse Child Molesters Now culminated this week, surprising nobody outside of Mitt Romney and Bill Kristol.
“Go get ’em Roy,” said our Festering Rectal Tumor President, because a dude who brags about ogling teenagers in a beauty pageant dressing room isn’t going to react to a dude who “dated” teenagers in his 30’s with anything harsher than perhaps envy.
And now all the stern, weatherbeaten, hoary, moralizers of the right, from Orrin Hatch to Mitch McConnell, men who for years have been all too ready to outlaw any behavior they don’t approve of, shrug and say, “Hey, if the good Christian souls of Alabama want rich folks’ taxes cut so fervently that they vote for a serial pedophile, who are we to stand in judgment?”
Hey Corrupt Old Dudes, since you seem to have lost your way, let me clear something up for you. When the question is “Should a man who sexually abuses teenagers be a Senator?” there is exactly ONE correct answer, and the answer is “FUCK NO.” Not “it’s up to the voters of Alabama,” or “It’s not for me to judge,” but “ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE? NO!!”
A Moore surrogate went on teevee to brag about how there were lots of women that Roy hadn’t molested, and also to tell her pregnant interviewer that Doug Jones wanted to break into her house at night and rip her unborn child form her womb with his bare hands.
Meanwhile, one of the women who dated Moore when she was a teen (Lest we normalize this; Ew.) provided new proof of the relationship the would-be lawmaker swears never happened. For a guy who trumpets his alleged “morals” all the time, Roy sure does write a lot of letters to high school girls.
I repeat: Ew.
Anyway, Steve Bannon emerged from the liquor aisle at Piggly Wiggly long enough to speak on Molesto the KKKlown’s behalf at a rally tonight. If that much concentrated evil didn’t open a gateway to Hell right in the middle of the stage, I don’t know what would.
Most importantly, the RNC opened their arms and their coffers to the Moore campaign, making the GOP the official public sponsors of this ethical sewer clog. For some reason, they believe they can do this without consequences. Never, ever, EVER stop dragging these bastards over this.
In the end, Jeff Flake’s sad, lonely, hundred-dollar check to Doug Jones will be the GOP’s largest act of opposition to this travesty. It’s hard to imagine a national political party failing such a tragically simple moral test. But here we are.
Oh, and Moore threw a little anti-semitism into the stew as well, just for flavor.
The NAACP says, rightly, that the President shouldn’t be allowed to attend the opening of the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum, what with all the British-Nazi-retweeting and very-fine-peopling he’s been up to. Kinda weird having a President whose very presence feels like an affront to civil rights, innit?
Oh, and everybody congratulate Bill O’Reilly on his shiny new lawsuit! Bill-O is accused of violating the non-disparagement clause of one of one of his (many) harassment settlements, since he’s gone around calling his accusers Lyin’ Goldiggin’ Filthy Sluts at every available opportunity. O’Reilly’s been quite vocal on the subject of Poor Defenseless Old Men being destroyed in the court of public opinion by torch-wielding mobs who don’t care about facts or truth, while simultaneously holding his accusers to NDAs.
And Bill’s not the only conservative fuckwad in trouble! Looks like our old pal Paul Manafort’s angling for a shock collar to compliment his ankle bracelet! Seems Paulie, that incorrigible so-and-so, has been sneaking around behind Papa Mueller’s back, draftin’ up an op-ed with the help of a Kremlin-connected buddy to make the case that Paul Manafort Did Nothing Wrong and Shouldn’t Have an Ankle Bracelet at All But Should Get Out of Jail Free and Also Maybe Get a Lifetime Pass to Chuck E Cheese for his Trouble.
So his bail will likely be revoked, rendering him ever more…#Manafucked.
Hey, if anybody just swallowed something poisonous, and needs to induce vomiting before shit gets life-threatening, may I recommend the Atlantic’s profile of Everyone’s Least Favorite Repressed Pervert, Vice President Pence? Yes, Mikey Hairshirt lurks in the background, rationalizing his boss’ every assault on the foundations of American democracy as “God’s plan,” easing his nerves by feverishly jerking off to photographs of elderly dogs that have been abandoned in shelters by their families.
Soooooo…I guess Erik Prince pitched Tangerine Idi Amin on the idea of having his own private, unaccountable, parallel intelligence service to counter all those “deep state” bastards who keep whinging about beta-male shit like “The Rule of Law,” and “The Constitution.”
NEAT. Donald Trump with his own personal secret police. What could go wrong?
Anyway, where are they gonna recruit these spies? From the mouthbreathing droolers of Club MAGA? Not sure that’s a solid foundation for an “intelligence” organization. You’d wind up with Inspector Clouseau but with wild-eyed, spittle-drenched delirium instead of bumbling charm.
You guys, I’m worried about Corey Lewandowski. He went on The View and yelled at the ladies about how mighty and tuff his chubby loser boss is, and shrieked “I don’t have Stockholm Syndrome, YOUR FACE HAS STOCKHOLM SYNDROME,” before curling up in the fetal position to suck thumb for two hours.
Over in the right wing media Bubba-ul, they’re busily building their Extended Cinematic Universe where Robert Mueller is some sort of hopelessly compromised agent of corruption, and the whole Roy Moore thing has nothing to do with the steady, ever-deepening derangement of the GOP’s base, but is instead the fault of (wait for it) the libtards. Also, Hillary Clinton is in your kitchen right now, eating the last slice of pie while lying to the FBI about…oh, let’s say Moe.
And I guess Shartboy really is gonna declare that the U.S. recognizes Jerusalem as the capital of Israel because stability in the Middle East, like science, is for CUCKS.
So yeah. I…need another mental health day.
*VOTE IN THE GODDAMN MIDTERMS