TGIF, right? Assuming it really is Friday, I certainly can’t tell anymore. TGI…Sometime, I suppose. I am reasonably certain time still exists, if only because I periodically see commercials for television shows that haven’t happened yet. Well, let’s round up (what I assume is) this week’s news, ‘kay?

Honestly, I’m surprised you’re even reading this; I assumed everybody was still at the Turdwaffle Administration’s Mission Accomplished COVID-19 is Our Bitch Now Please Pay No Attention to the Mounting Death Toll party. Yes, desperate for better headlines after the whole “What you should drink is BLEACH” thing, the Clowncar Full of Rectums currently squatting in our executive branch is trying a new communications strategy, based on demanding compliments for the successes that exist only within their own minds, led by the Velveeta Vulgarian himself, praising his own genius atop an ever-growing mound of corpses, chewing on an Adderall-crusted ribeye, overcooked to the point where its taste is indistinguishable from that of the tongue of a well-worn sneaker. I bet it totally works, kids.

Boy howdy, the Wisconsin GOP hates voters like Cap’n Crunch hates Soggies. It wasn’t enough to attempt to steal a state Supreme Court seat by forcing an election during a deadly pandemic, no, now that their murderous little scheme has backfired, the defeated Rethuglican Justice, Daniel Kelly, has decided to unrecuse himself from a shamelessly partisan voter purge case, so he can spend his lame duck days stealing voting rights from a couple hundred thousand of his fellow citizens. Hey, whoever set up this system where a turd like Kelly is allowed to literally take revenge on an electorate that rejected him, nice work!

Unable to to fathom how his polling numbers have plummeted amidst the mass graves and food lines, Shart Garfunkel threw a sad, sorry, tantrum at his weaselly shitbag campaign manager, Brad Parscale, proving once and for all that there is no loyalty among crotchfungi. Littlefinger even threatened to sue Parscale, for making him lie and golf his way through February while the coronavirus tap-danced from sea to shining sea, I guess.

“I’m not fucking losing to Joe Biden,” Donnie Dotard is said to have whined, adult diaper leaking down the legs of his ridiculous, ill-fitting, balloon pants. Shithead, you’re not only fucking losing to Joe Biden, you’re going to fucking die in prison, and Americans are going to fucking build a stadium-style piss trough on top of your fucking grave.

To Mitch McConnell, the entire Turd Reich has operated essentially like a wingnut Play-Doh machine; he feeds it atrocity and treason and failure, and it churns out lifetime appointments for scumbag right-wing judges. To that end, he’s calling the Senate back into session. Will the upper chamber be considering legislation to deliver us from the crisis that’s crippled the nation? Nope, this is all about gettin’ that judicial jagoff assembly line running again, ensuring Yertle’s regressive worldview will plague America for decades to come. Hey Founding Fathers, nice job on that whole “Senate” thing, I am totally loving the tyranny of the white nationalist minority!

A really fun thing that’s happening right now is that the Marmalade Shartcannon keeps trying to extort individual states (mostly the blue ones, isn’t that a zany coincidence?) if they want any federal help with this little ol’ coronavirus kerfuffle, which you may have heard about here and there. Yeah, it’s awesome that the President of the United States treats the Treasury like a wad of bills he gets to keep in his front pocket, to be doled out as he sees fit. Also awesome that, having received the Senate GOP’s stamp of approval for his Ukraine scheme, he feels totally comfortable pursuing similar tactics with his OWN FUCKING CONSTITUENTS.

Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot’s top domestic policy advisor, some skeevy-looking twit named Joe Grogan, has been forced out, apparently because somebody finally woke up and noticed, “say, we’re awful at pretty much everything, but holy fuck we are absolute shit at domestic policy! A despised tax cut benefiting the wealthy, repeated attempts to steal health care from millions, and now we blew up the entire fucking economy? Golly, maybe it’s time for a change.” Ya think?

Florida seems to have stumbled onto a game-changing trick in the battle against COVID-19; they’re keeping their death tally low by preventing the state’s medical examiners from releasing their data, how clever! Maybe they can sneak the extra bodies up to the border and dump ‘em in Georgia when nobody’s looking! Reached for comment, Governor Ron DeSantis would only say, “la la la la I can’t hear you,” with one index finger lodged snugly within each of his ears.

33 search warrants tied to Roger Stone’s arrest and eventual conviction were unsealed, and holy fuckballs, Rog, I don’t even own 33 shirts! How much crime does one creepy old dude have to commit to merit THIRTY-THREE separate warrants? Aside from all the treason n’ stuff, it seems Stone operated 200 fake Facebook accounts, which he used to talk about how awesome Roger Stone is, demonstrating the pitiful fragility so common in Fat Q*Bert’s closest associates. If feel like I wouldn’t be nearly as mad these days if the criminal cabal that’s hijacked my beloved country weren’t so cringingly pathetic.

Speaking of Strawberry Shartcake’s inner circle of bumbling crooks, newly-released documents which in no way exonerate Mike Flynn are being wildly spun as completely exonerating Mike Flynn. What, you didn’t expect these goons to suddenly turn honest this close to the finish line, didja?

Vice President Michael Pants now threatens retaliation against the reporter who blew the lid off NotWearingAMaskToTheMayoClinicGate, likely because he imagines a juvenile-yet-fascist assault on the free press will earn him a few stale french fries from his Turd Emperor’s dinner table. Maybe even a half-eaten Egg McMuffin, if he’s lucky. That Mike fancies himself a religious man remains baffling and hilarious; I wonder if, during his childhood, maybe somebody slipped the book jacket off a Bible and onto a copy of a Nathan Bedford Forrest biography, and gave it to him, and he just never figured out the difference.

Heavily-armed shitty white boy terrorists briefly occupied the Capitol in Michigan, demanding reparations for all the money they’d wasted over the years on so-called “miracle penis enlargement” cures. Naturally Hairplug Himmler sided with the terrorists (who are distinguishable from “protesters” by their tactical gear and FUCKING FIREARMS), even echoing the thug-praising language from his disastrous post-Charlottesville speech, because the self-awareness gene has skipped a few generation in the Trump family.

(Incidentally, mere hours after the protests, the Governor extended the state’s stay-at-home orders, because A) she actually cares about saving her constituents’ lives, and B) it’ll take more than a gaggle of spittle-drenched LARPers to intimidate Gretchen Fucking Whitmer.)

Individual states are still smuggling in medical equipment and hiding it from the feds so that Jared Kushner can’t confiscate their shit to then hand over to private companies to sell to the highest bidder, and I’m starting to think maybe we’re not operating at maximum efficiency here. We reached out to deceased railway baron Cornelius Vanderbilt to ask if this was any way to run a railroad; he said “Fuck, no.”

Like many of you, I’ve been suffering from decency envy these last three years, looking longingly at our neighbors to the north, but man, Canada’s really rubbing our noses in it now, announcing a ban on military-style assault weapons. Look, we get it! You’re a functioning democracy that hasn’t collapsed into a kakistocracy serving only a rage-filled dipshit white supremacist minority, LA-DEE-DA! (Y’all don’t happen to have a sofa a fake superhero could crash on for a few months, by the way?)

As though we don’t have enough to worry about already, now Alex Jones is stumbling around, threatening to eat strangers’ asses. PUBLIC SAFETY NOTICE: If you discover Alex Jones eating your ass, you should freeze immediately; Jones’ vision is based on motion. Wait for Jones to leave the room, then contact animal control. DO NOT ENGAGE ALEX JONES YOURSELF, HE’S IN AN ASS-EATIN’ MOOD!

Kayleigh McEnany made her debut as Shart House press secretary, promising the assembled reporters, “I will never lie to you,” before immediately lying to them about a whole bunch of shit. Structurally speaking, I should’ve put this paragraph above the last one. This is kind of a let down after the whole ass-eating thing, isn’t it? Whoops.

Ok, Resisters, enjoy your weekend, if indeed this be the weekend. Don’t forget, until Alex Jones is apprehended, wear both a mask and a buttguard while in public. Safety first.