A Day In Our Life

The secret to immortality, at least until he gets us all killed, is having Donald Trump as the president, because every day feels like a million years; he is the Teddy Roosevelt of incompetent disgraces: he packs so much into 24 hours. Remember when every limpdick fuckhead on the teevee elbowed each other out of the way to call him “presidential” because he managed to give a speech without melting down? (You know who gave speeches? No, not Hitler. Me. Stood up in front of my third grade class and read the Gettysburg Address. Giving speeches is not all that impressive.) Remember that?

THAT WAS FOUR DAYS AGO. Seems like months, right? And maybe you’re saying, “Yes, TotD, we know about the perjury thing with the AG.” I would say to you, “Keep up, slopkins.” There’s something new today, because there’s something new every fucking day with this guy.

TotD presents the first (or only) of what will (or might or might not) become a running segment:

The Daily Recounting.

(NOTE: Just the past 24 hours. Literally only the past 24 hours. And I’m probably not going to link to any news sites or anything: this is just a summary, and both you and I know that you should not be relying on me for the news.)

Very early this morning, Donald Trump was left unsupervised for ten minutes and started what will most likely be the worst political crisis since Watergate. He also insulted Arnold Schwarzenegger.

This is what the president tweeted–and if the phrase “This is what the president tweeted” doesn’t make you want to cry until you shit yourself, then I don’t think I can hang out with you–this morning.

If you put aside the fact that presidents are bound by statute from ordering wiretaps and the fact that wire tapping someone would be Nixonian rather than McCarthyism; if you put aside the fact that meeting ambassadors is what the president does, and that 22 times in 8 years sounds about right; if you put aside the dreadful use of quotes for emphasis that shows him for the thickwit he is and–in my estimation–should be grounds for impeachment on their own; if you put all these aside, then there’s nothing really left to discuss.

Except for the fact that President Trump–it hurts my fingers to type that–has backed himself into a golden corner. There are only two options now: either there was a legitimate surveillance operation authorized by the FISA court, or President Obama is some sort of were-Nixon and a full moon came out last November, causing Obama to start ordering illegal wiretaps.

(Also: I guaran-fucking-tee you that the ninny thinks men in ski masks broke into Trump Tower and physically planted tiny microphones all over.)

Moreover, by publicly commenting on the investigation, Dumb Donald might have declassified the investigation

“Very sacred.” I wish there were a Hell, I truly do. He’d be down on the ninth level with Judas and Brutus and Cassius, and he’d be eaten by Satan forever and ever, and though I would necessarily be in Hell to witness this, my heart would reside in Heaven with the Lord.

“Tapp.” Y’know what? I don’t care if there’s a Hell or a Heaven: I just want to blow my brains out. This idiot thinks Gene Hackman is sitting outside in a van with a pair of headphones on.

Now: this is real. He’s lying about all the details, but the fact of the investigation is inarguable; the White House counsel spent today desperately trying to get ahold of the order. How do we know this? Because someone in the White House counsel’s office leaked it, most likely while their boss was still on the phone.

I told you he insulted Arnold.