So you’re not a big fan of the white text on a black background look, huh?

The Ostomy Bag With a Dead Tabby on Top occupying the Oval Office is pitching fits this week, because he’s creeping up on the very special day when every Televison network/Newspaper/Blog/Child Drawing on the Tablecloth With Crayons will publish identical pieces, all titled “We Knew He Was a Twit, But Seriously If We’d Elected a Half-Empty Can of Mello Yello President It Would’ve Achieved More In Its First 100 Days.” He tried the “Aw, nobody cares about the dumb ol’ first 100 days anyway,” tactic, somehow hoping no one would notice the video footage of the dozens of times he promised to Solve All the Problems and Create All the Jobs and also invent a delicious chocolate cake that burns fat and cures cancer and whispers BOMB SYRIA in the voice of a sultry Russian spy, all in, ahem, his first 100 days.

Oh wow. I don’t usually do these on back-to-back days, but the news kept coming at me today like a tommy gun full of bat guano, so let’s all tear our clothes off and run naked through the poppy field that is the news these days.

Who would’ve imagined that Donald Trump’s election would usher in an entirely new genre in political journalism?

Still, it seems we can’t go 18 hours without a fresh entry in the Anonymously Sourced Inter-staff Hunger Games Pit Fight series between the various groups of advisors struggling for the affections of our Idiot Manchild President. It’s like the Sweet Valley High books, only with atomic stakes.

Maybe the last few days haven’t been as batshit insane as some of the really nutty ones, or maybe as we approach 100 days of being locked in Arkham with these assholes, our standards for what constitutes true madness have shifted. Like if Charles Manson was your roommate, standing on a counter in Starbucks throwing poop at all the baristas wouldn’t seem like that big a deal. On the other hand, having demoting Steve “Darth Wino” Bannon after a series of costly failures, perhaps the the Shart Administration has settled into a new normal of low-grade bumbling malice. So let’s take a bit to laugh at these clowns as they wander around and crash into shit like so many bumper cars. Racist, hateful bumper cars.

Well folks, while not quite up to standards of some of the more chaotic trips around the sun since the Marmalade Shartcannon took office, I hope everyone invested in fertilizer manufacturers, because today was another Bat Guano Nutty Day.

We all woke up and immediately checked in on that deleted scene from V FOR VENDETTA where the guy gets bloodied in the process of being dragged off an airplane by law enforcement for refusing to give up his seat when the airline wanted to give it to an employee on an overbooked flight after he’d already boarded.

Wait, what? That was real life? You’re shitting me.

Oh wow.

Shit be cray, people. Shit be cray.

Today’s news was like if a Tom Clancy novel fucked the notebook where Hunter S. Thompson kept the ideas he thought were “too weird” on top of a big stack of Frank Miller comics. Not the good ones, the recent, shitty, super-racist ones.

And you may find yourself
On the floor of the House
With your horrible bill
And your horrible press
And you may say to yourself
Well
How did I get here?

So the day started with the whole “Paul Manafort was a paid foreign agent collecting millions of dollars annually to work on Putin’s behalf and by the way he may have embezzled a few mil from an oligarch there at end” story, and he was the Shart’s campaign manager and that is close to as big a story as I have seen in my life, truly. I really don’t think one single moment of the Obama years even approached “President’s campaign was managed by an agent acting on Putin’s behalf,” but correct me if I’m wrong.