Life’s just one long Downfall parody down at Marm-a-Lago these days, for the craven creep cabal brought low by the devastating simplicity of those two humble syllables: “joy” and “weird.” Plus, the Chief Creep got ketchup all over the printout of that nude selfie Kim Jong-un sent for his birthday, which was the one thing the FBI let him keep from those crates of documents he stole, and now it’s all ruined.

Anyway, after an Adderall-fueled all-night brainstorming session, the decision was made to dispatch Epstein’s plane to pick up Corey Lewandowski and some cereal and maybe a VHS copy of Gangs of New York for JD.   

The Dotard’s wranglers have been urging him to focus more on policy, while simultaneously distancing himself from the radioactive Project 2025 policy platform they ritualistically circle jerk to at their secret Christian nationalist clambakes. Obviously, such concepts are far too complex for a brain that managed to bankrupt casinos, but as a compromise, he’s taken to mendaciously claiming credit for the Biden/Harris Administration’s insulin price caps, to spice up the dead space between the blatant racism and the windmill rant.

…or so I’ve read. Maybe some people can endure seventeen consecutive hours of two charisma-deficient billionaire narcissists tongue-bathing one another without researching what it would cost to have Amazon dispatch an assisted suicide drone to their apartment, but I myself lack the strength.

Alas, if only those wily busloads of antifas had succeed with their super-ultra-hyper-microtargeted DDoS attack on the website Elon definitely didn’t break himself, we might’ve been spared all that interminable, grievance-saturated slurring. DO BETTER NEXT TIME, ANTIFAS!

Sigh. I suppose in the end, he’d only find some other pile of groceries to grouse near. No, it’s far too late to change him now, and I feel bad for the warden who’ll have to try when he’s sentenced next month. Pro tip to any prison guard tasked with smuggling contraband fast food into his cell: take a page from the city of Asheville, North Carolina’s book, and get your money up front.

As the walls close in, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot is trying to spend as much time as possible doing what he loves most: shitting on the losers and suckers who served the nation he betrayed at every opportunity. Did you know you can give your whole dang life for this country, and all you get in return is the sissy-ass Medal of Honor? Whereas hate-mongering talk radio hosts and wingnut megadonors get the good shit, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, which you can pawn for way more Trump Bucks.

While Wee Donnie One-Term certainly made no shortage of powerful enemies over the years, I think even he realizes he went too far this time. Honestly, no wonder he’s hiding out at his tacky golf resorts instead of campaigning. Shit, they’re still finding pieces of the last guy who fucked with Céline Dion…but never two in the same time zone, y’know?

With Off-Brand Orbán cowering at home, it’s up to his historically unpopular running mate to barnstorm the nation in his rickety, malfunctioning Trump Plane™️, expounding upon the issues that matter to “normal” American women, like “the whole purpose of the postmenopausal female,” for example. Sure, technically they can babysit, but wouldn’t it be more efficient and humane to send ‘em straight to the Soylent factory as soon as you’ve swapped ‘em out for a younger, hotter model?

…don’t call him weird, though. An amoral vulture capitalist, maybe, but not weird.

President Biden had no choice but to mobilize the National Guard to quell the race riots touched off by Tim Walz’s inflammatory (GET IT?) spice comments. “WHITE TACOS MATTER,” yelped Ben Shapiro, before launching into a blubbering, falsetto rendition of “Old Man River” in the parking lot of the Chipotle he’d spent several hours unsuccessfully attempting to set ablaze.

Roger Stone found, to his dismay, not the promised horde of horny MILFs awaiting at the end of that email link he clicked, but rather Iranian hackers, who only wanted him for his Trump campaign secrets. Multiple news outlets have access to this data, but refuse to release it to the public, citing the sacred journalistic oath originally administered by the great Roman listicle maker Cillizzacus: “First, do no harm…to Republicans.”

Gosh, Ted Cruz has been uncritically platforming so much Iranian propaganda lately, I just assumed Supreme Leader Khamenei issued some sort of religious edict proclaiming his wife ugly, but it turns out he’s just an asshole.

With polls showing Kamala n’ Tim putting North Carolina in play, disgraced ex-Senator Richard Burr emerged from the old insider trader’s home to endorse the rapist he once voted to impeach, because principles have a half-life of about eleven minutes in the GOP.

In Burr’s defense, right before his appearance, he did swing by Nikki Haley’s place to ask to borrow a cup of dignity, but she was fresh out. So then he asked Nancy Mace, who responded, “Dignity? You shouldn’t make up words, Richard!” before skittering out for a CNN hit, where she engaged in a little performative shittiness, hoping to make losers like her more.

Following the resounding defeat of his party’s attempted power grab this week, Wisconsin Republican Speaker Robin Vos vowed to “get” not only Democratic Governor Tony Evers, but his little dog as well.

Former Nebraska Senator Ben Sasse’s tenure atop the University of Florida may’ve barely lasted the span of a fruit fly’s life, but that’s all the time he needed to vanquish the scourge of Not Paying Ben Sasse’s Buddies Millions of Dollars, another crushing defeat for the woke mind virus.

I guess RFK Jr. tried to finagle a Cabinet post out of the Harris campaign, in return for dropping out. When he was rebuffed, he said he’d be willing to settle for a bag of cranial parasite chow and whatever leftover roadkill happened to be in the break room freezer, but by that point, the intern who fielded his call was too busy leaking the conversation to the Washington Post.

Hats off to th’Deep State for successfully framing exceptionally stable genius Tina Peters on seven counts. These new bamboo fibers are functionally undetectable, so stealing the 2024 election’ll be like taking candy from a baby, or selling two dollar bills to Hannity viewers at twenty bucks a pop.

Between Tina’s conviction and the public outing of Millersville, Tennessee Assistant Police Chief Shawn Taylor as a QAnon adherent, it’s been such a great week for our global human trafficking conspiracy, I’m told Hillary n’ Huma authorized the tapping of a fresh keg of children’s blood for our satanic celebrations this weekend, so drink deep, comrades!

A tearful Vladimir Putin begged the international community for relief, citing the (admittedly imaginary) provision of the U.N. Charter that explicitly prohibits invadees from invading their invaders. “Nobody lets me assassinate anybody anymore, an’ they were s’posed to surrender in three days an’ I can’t even remember the last time I had a McRib, it’s not faiiiiiiiiiiir” the murderous despot whinged, before again checking to make sure his bunker was stocked with sufficient quantities of kiddie porn.

Meanwhile, between exuberant campaign stops, President Biden rolled out $1.5 billion in savings for Medicare recipients, under the long overdue law he signed allowing the government to negotiate prices with drug manufacturers, the latest Big Fucking Deal in a series of Big Fucking Deals.

I’ve actually asked Joe if he can work out a discount for me at the liquor store down the street, but he seems pretty busy these days, so for now, I’ll just mournfully rattle my tip jar (now accepting Cash App, PayPal AND Venmo!) in the hope that you kind folks will once again help me restock the ol’ beer fridge.

And as always, sharing this post on social media, signing up on the email list at showercapblog.com, and following @john_luzar are free! Stay safe out there, m’lovelies…