Figured I’d give y’all a little somethin’ to read while you’re waiting for the clerk to restock the champagne shelf. (Yer own fault for waiting until the last minute, there was always gonna be a rush) Anyway, the end of America’s first openly fascist presidency is, in my humble opinion, pretty rad. Let’s talk about it.

I know we were just laughing at Betsy DeVos and Elaine Chao, but they’ve got nothin’ on HHS Secretary Alex Azar and his feeble stab at a Far Far Better Thing moment of his own. Shit, Mel Gibson might just need to make a movie about Alex, such was his valor in submitting that o-so-principled resignation, effective the day his enabling ass was getting fired anyway. What next? Will Ben Carson burst through the doors, twenty minutes into Joe’s first State of the Union, proclaiming he’s Finally Had Enough of Donald Trump’s Lies™️?

Online misinformation about voter fraud in the 2020 election dropped 73% in the aftermath of Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops’ social media ban, and I love everything about that sentence except the part where we gave that dime store dictator a platform to pour his poison into our ears, all goddamn day long, in the first place. Still, sure is fun watchin’ him shrink into nothingness without a stage to bellow from, innit?

I’ve spent much of the past few days cackling to myself over the delectable catch-22 facing President Crotchrot in his upcoming second impeachment trial: nobody but Rudy Giuliani is dumb/crazy/treasonous enough to represent him legally, but Amerikkka’s Mayor can’t take the gig because he’s a witness in the trial, having done his level best on January 6th to incite the assembled Loser Legion to seek “trial by combat.” (Golly, how does Wee Don keep getting into these WACKY predicaments?)

On the other hand, the argument could be made that the public is being cheated out of the spectacle of Trenchmouth McCousinfucker’s planned defense, which was to involve “proving” his widely debunked litany of voter fraud lies, since that went so well the last time he tried it. Not that doing so would provide a legal justification for terrorist insurrection, of course. Like, if you incite a violent mob to storm an Arby’s, the objective tastiness of the curly fries is not a valid excuse for bludgeoning the manager to death with a fire extinguisher. Am I going too fast for anyone?

I’m pleased to report I’m still sickened by the news of the “pardon market” that’s sprung up in these lame duck days of the Turd Reich. Four years of flooding the zone with shit, you gaslighting bastards couldn’t wear out my capacity for outrage at your shameless corruption, though nobody can say you didn’t try really fucking hard. Anyway, you’re about to find out it’s less fun begging for pardons than passing ‘em out like candy.

Meanwhile, the federal prison system continues to swell with the ranks of the blockhead brigade that stormed the Capitol a few days back, in hopes of making Louie Gohmert’s Dumbest Wish come true. That girl who stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop with the intention of selling it to the Russians got arrested. Did I mention the mob contained a girl who stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop with the intention of selling it to the Russians? I don’t think I did. So, this girl stole Nancy Pelosi’s laptop, with the intention of selling it to the Russians, but now she’s in jail, with all the other “patriots.”

Of course, now that most of the clowns have been rounded up, we’re starting to see arrests of the scarier, more organized militia types. And with rumors growing of lawmakers begging their Hemorrhoid Emperor for pardons over their roles in this stupid, yes, but inescapably violent coup attempt, I don’t think any of us have screamed our last WHAT THE LIVING FUCK at a breaking news push notification, y’know?

I always knew Lindsey Graham would go down groveling, and hoo boy, he did not disappoint. Bet he sneaks into Melania’s luggage and winds up curled in front of the fireplace down at Marm-a-Lago, hoping everybody just assumes someone else invited him.

I see the Taintmaggot Administration chose their final Martin Luther King Jr. Day in office to release one last wheezing asparagus fart of institutional white supremacy, unveiling the so-called “1776 Report,” a Stephen Miller shitfit poorly disguised as a “rebuttal” to the New York Times’ 1619 Project. Compiled by a particularly subpar gaggle of Trumpist mediocrities who, like the Fates of yore, share a single brain cell which they pass between themselves, the report serves, at the very least, as a tidy little debunking of the very notion of white supremacy, because if this tripe is the best y’all can come up with…yikes.

Here in the midst of one of the pandemic’s worst stretches yet, Hairplug Himmler actually tried to lift Covid-related travel bans. Now, there’s no possible logical reason to do this, unless you happened to be a vengeance-crazed septuagenarian toddler looking to add a few final turds to the gargantuan dookie mound you’re already leaving for the next guy, an unlikely scenario, yes, but surely we’ve all been trapped in Shitty Wonderland long enough to expect this sort of thing by now.

Honestly, it seems the lone remaining conservative value (outside of bigotry, of course) is spite. Whether sneaking unqualified loyalist hacks into the federal bureaucracy or implementing mischievous little last-minute regulations, you certainly can’t accuse Team Skidmark of passing up any opportunities for pettiness; I suppose you have to do something to fill the hours you’re not spending fighting the damn coronavirus, right?

We learned freshman Congressfreak Marjorie Taylor Greene’s devotion to wackadoo wingnut conspiracy trash runs even deeper than previously known; she claims the Parkland shooting was a “false flag,” perpetrated by the insidious likes of Nancy Pelosi and Hillary Clinton, to prevent Real Muricans like Marjorie from pouring meth and gunpowder on their morning bowl of Cocoa Puffs. If Kevin McCarthy really wants to keep this skeevy creep in his caucus, give her committee assignments and such, I say PROCEED.

As we reflect on Tangerine Idi Amin’s legacy, here on the eve of his departure, I think it’s important to be truthful. Fair. Balanced. He may not have been any good at managing the economy, or negotiating international agreements, or creating jobs, or building walls, or running casinos, or convincing his own wife to share his bed, but you have to admit, he had a real talent for getting Americans killed. 400,000 Covid deaths in less than a year is, you must admit, an eye-popping achievement. It’s a matter of perspective; he may’ve been the American public’s deadliest enemy in decades, but he’s the best friend a novel coronavirus could hope for.

Of course, the lying lamestream media suppresses the voices of these patriotic viruses, which is certainly a better explanation for the last-minute plunge in Shart Garfunkel’s approval ratings than any intrinsic American distaste for the violent overturning of presidential elections by the dumbest white dudes in all creation.

While I’m optimistic, we all know it’s far from certain the Velveeta Vulgarian will ever face justice for his many crimes, so, as a fallback plan, I’m looking to harvest as much schadenfreuderrific glee as I can from the category 5 shitstorm bearing down on that MyPillow fella’s pudding-filled head.

See, Mike Lindell threw his support, extremely publicly, behind a fascist coup…a week after it failed, and now he can’t figure out why national retail chains no longer want to sell his Nazi loser pillows, because I guess you don’t have to be Sun Tzu to make it big in the bedding game.

Even better, facing the same defamation lawsuit threats that have already sent multiple right-wing media outlets scrambling to issue obsequious retractions, Lindell defiantly, foolishly screeched COME AT ME BRO, and dude, worry not…they will. Coming in 2022: MyPillow, a subsidiary of the Dominion Voting Systems Corporation!

In short, like every single news cycle for the last four-plus years…shit be cray.

…but tonight, this river of monkey crap is washing right over me, because the next time we meet, Shower Captives, Joe Biden will be the President of the United States and Kamala Harris will be the Vice President of the United States, and I feel like I’ve been camped outside Tower Records waiting for this particular album to drop for oh, about four motherfucking years, give or take a century.

After an emotional farewell speech in his home state of Delaware, Smilin’ Joe packed up and headed back to our poor, besieged capital, ready to take power, with an eye on healing, progress, and cleaning up the various mile-high shitpiles left by his disinterested predecessor.

He’ll have help. Just in time, the Secretary of State in Georgia officially certified Ossoff n’ Warnock’s Senate wins, (so the Georgia GOP can move on with planned voter suppression efforts, don’t take your eyes off these fucks for a minute) so Mitch McConnell’s reign ends tomorrow as well. If one can overdose on glee, I’m gonna.

Determined to go out like a loser, Donnie Dotard refuses to attend the inauguration, and he can’t seem to give tickets away for his own going away party. And now begins the phase of his life where every knock on the door might just be law enforcement, come at last to take him away. That’ll be fun. For us, anyway.

I’m sure there’s plenty more last-minute fuckery out there, but y’know what? Tonight, let’s forget all that crap and get good n’ fucked up on HOPE. I haven’t looked forward to a tomorrow like this in…some time, folks. Stay safe out there.