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You know how sometimes in old westerns, towards the end, the bad guys break out a bigass crank-operated Gatling gun? The news this week is like one of those guns, only full of bat guano.
Mick Mulvaney chided a group of bankers for not bribing Congress hard enough, that was a thing that happened. See, he wants to destroy the agency he’s acting head of, and goshdarnit, he can’t do it alone! He needs those noble lobbyists to roll up their sleeves, open their checkbooks wide, and go buy him as many CongressPuppets as they can afford! Otherwise, how do you expect to get back to the glory days of predatory lending and exorbitant fees? HELP ME HELP YOU KEEP OUR WORKING CLASS FOREVER ENSLAVED BY THE BANKING SYSTEM, PEOPLE!
Ben Carson wants to triple the rent on the very poorest Americans living in public housing, because that guy in the portrait with him isn’t Jesus, but Barry Goldwater in a really elaborate Jesus costume. Sorry, less-fortunate folks…Dr. Ben needs those apartments to store grain.
Lemme give a little good news to chew on before we go any further, like a wad of Hubba Bubba to help you get through a tour of a sewage treatment plant. We did well in the latest round of special elections Tuesday night!
No, we didn’t quite pick up Trent “Oh so now it’s wrong to ask your staff if you can fuck them for money” Franks’ old seat, but we swung it 16 points from 2016, and if we keep up that pace come November? That’ll do, Pig. That’ll do.
Team Shart’s first big fancy state visit was…something. Smallhands Magoo grabbed French President Emmanuel Macron by the EVERYTHING. It was a very touchy little bromance, including a sad little ritual with the Hairplug That Ate Decency mumbling something about his counterpart having dandruff SEE THAT FEMALES? DESPITE MY ADVANCING AGE AND THINNING HAIR I AM STILL SURELY THE MORE DESIRABLE MATE.
But yeah, Emmanuel was all smiles and flattery so the Shart just loved him so much that he probably didn’t even notice the lengthy speech he gave to Congress essentially shitting on every single thing he does and stands for. Still, I’m sure Stephen Miller seethed in his office, “CUCKED! BY A FROG!”
(One quick sidebar from the Macron visit: as we see, every world leader understands how to manipulate Drumpf. Kiss his ass a bit, and he’s putty in your hands. And because you have normal hands, instead of little inadequate baby ones, you can shape him however you want. Everyone on Planet Earth knows this about the President of the United States, and that is not good.)
It wasn’t so long ago that Dr. Ronny Jackson was a well-respected man in a prestigious, high-paying post. And then Donald J Trump (The “J” stands for “How Are There Still People Willing to Work for Me?”) came into his life. Now the whole world knows about his seemingly unethical prescription-dispensing practices, his workplace hostility, and what seems to be a substantial substance abuse problem for which I hope he gets the help he needs.
So now, his reputation permanently shipwrecked on those doughy orange shores, Jackson will slink away to join that ever-expanding club for ruined laughingstocks. There’s a decent discount at the bar, but Mooch never leaves, and he never ever ever shuts his fucking mouth.
Shit, Dr. Ronny…look what you have to look forward to! Sean Spicer, who only a year ago strode through the highest halls of power, a genuinely important man, now gets to host wax museum openings! “By Grabthar’s Hammer…what a likeness!,” right, Sean?
Meanwhile, Sharty McFly proclaimed Kim Jong-un, a murderer who keeps millions in extreme poverty while living a lavish lifestyle paid for by their toil and torment, “honorable.” I’m starting to think our President is not a very good judge of character.
Trumpal Lawyer/Fixer/Jaggy Thug Friend Michael Cohen says he’ll be exercising his fifth amendment rights in the Stormy Daniels case, even as a judge appointed a “special master” to sift through all the evidence the FBI seized from him to determine which stuff the investigators are allowed to see. Perhaps Cohen believes by taking the fifth, he’ll avoid preemptively telling prosecutors things like, “By the way, there was already blood on that lead pipe in my sock drawer when I found it.”
(And the FBI seized 16 cellphones from Cohen, by the way. Sixteen. That’s more cellphones than they use in The Departed.)
We keep learning more about Cohen’s relationship with Drumpfy, and it’s looking more like a Ted Dibiase/Virgil kind of thing all the time, isn’t it? Goon Guy does all of Rich Guy’s dirty work, gets paid in abuse. (And sparkly vests?) Seems Mikey thought he was in line for some cushy campaign and/or government gigs that never materialized, but Donnie still loves you right? The anecdote about Fat Q*Bert being a dick at Cohen’s kid’s bar mitzvah was particularly cringe-inducing.
Well, Rudy Giuliani began his negotiations with Rugged Robert Mueller, asking if his investigative body has ways to shut that whole Russia investigation down. Rudy says talks are going well so far, and he expects Mueller’s laughing fit to end any day now, allowing them to move on to more substantial topics.
Hey, a whistleblower tells us Steve Bannon had Cambridge Analytica pimpin’ Putin and studyin’ voter suppression techniques as far back as 2014! Nice to know Darth Wino didn’t just roll off his turpentine-and-pus-stained gutter mattress one morning and decide to fuck up America…he’s been working at it for years!
And then Kanye West decided to –
…y’know what? No. I’m not covering that shit. No link, nothing. I have the most juvenile political blog on the internet, but that goofiness is beneath me. I’m gonna maintain my dignity, and go back to making a bunch of poop jokes.
So this dude got kicked out of a bar for wearing a MAGA hat, and he sued the bar, and because political beliefs aren’t protected by anti-discrimination laws, he borrows Rick Perry’s Smart Guy Glasses long enough to come up with the novel defense of This Made in China Hat is My Spirituality Because Reasons. The judge explored the theology of MyMAGAhatism for a bit (Are there holy texts? What does the Hat say about circumcision?) before telling the dope where he could stick his lawsuit, Hat willing of course.
I used to really beat myself up over some of the stupid fucking decisions I’ve made over the course of my life, but I’m done with that now. Why, you ask? Well, some genius someplace screamed, “EUREKA! I shall give Charlie Rose a talk show where he can interview other old scuzzbag dudes brought down by the #MeToo movement!”
…and I can never hope to even approach making a choice that bad. You need to talk about World-War-launching Archduke assassinations to understand the territory we’re wading through with this one. Holy shit, y’all.
And the Marmalade Shartcannon phoned into Fux n’ Fiendz this morning to ramble through his usual list of grievances and empty boasts. Usually when he does this, he’s in front of a hoard of adoring rubes, cheering his every word, but without an audience, he quickly devolved into raw unfettered shrieking so nutty the hosts cut him off while texting John Kelly “Get the tranq dart gun, quick!”
Hilariously, Dorito Mussolini’s blood pressure hadn’t had time to cool before his words were being used against him in court. Oh, and he casually upended the entire strategy he’s been deploying the Cohen/Daniels matter. It’s safe to assume he spilled pie filling on his shirt as well.
Oh, and the Senate Judiciary Committee passed a little bill saying “Donnie, you can’t fire the Special Counsel just because you don’t want him to find out what a fucking crook you are,” and wonder of wonders, a few REPUBLICANS on the panel even voted for it. Though most didn’t.
And anyhow, Mitch McConnell still won’t allow the whole Senate to vote on it. Which enables Paul Ryan to stick his fingers in his goofy ears and pretend none of this is even happening. Someday, they’ll build statues of this Republican majority. Out of cow pies.
Scott Pruitt, who currently has nearly a DOZEN open investigations into his various acts of corrupt fuckery, showed up on Capital Hill for his ceremonial dragging. He lied and whined a whole bunch, and then got to just go back to his job, probably in a gold-plated Cadillac he bought with taxpayer money.
And now a new report reveals the Shart House knew of the allegations against Rob Porter much earlier than they’d claimed. Fucking of COURSE they did. They just didn’t care.
They don’t care that Porter hits women or that Zinke and Pruitt and Carson steal your money to fund their own personal pleasures or that Bannon published white supremacists or that Reince Priebus is actually just eleven marmots in a suit. They’re all simply horrible people. We knew this.
Jefferson. Cable news is what’s distracting your Idiot Manchild Boss from his duties. He’s the most distractible man on the planet. If he sees that silhouette mud flap girl he has to lock himself in the bathroom to furiously jerk off for forty minutes like an over-stimulated chimpanzee. He spends every moment of his life in a state of frenzied resentment, plotting revenge for every ounce of criticism he’s ever received. He’s still trying to get Mattis to let him authorize a drone strike on the kid who got more scratch n’ sniff stickers in second grade. Let us be honest with one another, you and I.
I get such a kick out of these claims that the Velveeta Vulgarian is just SO pressed for time! Old fart does three things: 1) Consume every microscopic bit of coverage of himself in the media, 2) Bitch about said coverage, and 3) Golf. He’s been President of the USA for a year and change now, and he knows less about public policy than most Russian bot accounts. The man is many things, busy is not one of them.
Just today, the blathering fuckstick was all “Now that you mention it, I didn’t get my own wife anything for her birthday, I’M JUST SO OVERWHELMED WITH WORK by the way did you see me on Fux this morning I yelled for an entire goddamn hour I think my jaw unhinged at one point.
So, the chaplain of the House of Representatives apparently offered a little prayer when the GOP was working up their “You’ll Turn Over the Fruits of the American Economy Over to Your Plutocrat Masters and Like it, Mister” tax bill, asking for a little fairness, just a small thought for the less fortunate. Paul Ryan, because he’s as petty as he is evil, FORCED THE MAN OUT OF HIS JOB, bellowing “NO! You pray that the filthy takers be swiftly removed from our society by fast-acting, inexpensive-to-treat diseases! Also I want to you fellate this golden idol I have of the Greek Titan Atlas, shrugging!”
Aaaaaaaaaaand now I’ve reached the point in my news-gathering where I’ve stumbled across the headline, “Custody Litigation Between Two Ex-Trump Staffers Involves Allegation That NASA Faked the Moon Landing,” so I’m just gonna sign off now before the final fragment of my sanity shatters.
…wait, hang on. The Ostomy Bag With a Dead Tabby on Top just threatened the rest of the planet, via tweet, that they better not oppose America’s bid to host the World Cup. I’m clearly just not destined to be sane.
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