Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: donald trump (page 2 of 21)

Just Some Good Old Boys

The fatassed whoremonger voted into the White House by racists and the rural mean spoke today. Well, “spoke.” He made sounds that approximated words. Basketball Head also did his hand gesture, inadvertently revealed his lack of knowledge about the basic principles of American governance, and said “fake news” a couple dozen times. Much like a legacy act headlining a county fair, he gives the crowd the greatest hits.

This was, technically, not a rally. Fleshy Fuckwit loves his rallies, but this was not one, not technically. Today was the Values Voters Summit, which is a meeting for assholes who hate gays and women. I have seen summit’s participants described as “religious conservatives,” but I’ll stick with the way I said it. These assholes are also, of course, not fond of ethnic minorities, but the anti-black and anti-Mexican stuff takes a back seat to the homo-hating and bitch-bashing. These assholes are clods, shitkickers, and glorioski are they mean.

(Which points out the true nature of Trump’s base. It is not whites; it is not the rural; it is not men. It is the cruel.)

Anyway, while Shitty was over-enunciating to try and cover up his outer-borough accent, helpful gnomes in the audience were attempting to aid homosexuals by including this nifty little advertisement in the goody bags. (What the fuck is in a goody bag at a Christian Conservative meeting? I’m guessing a coupon for a free oil change at a garage that no longer exists and a flavorless lollipop.)

More like Ass Resistance.


What? If the ass doesn’t resist, then no one’s having fun. Gotta have some pushback from the ass.

No one’s having fun with whatever it is you’re doing. 

I’m laughing to keep from crying.

You, too? Carry on.

Right. So: the reverse of the pamphlet is some scary stuff. I couldn’t find a scan of it, so I’ll just copy-and-paste it from a newspaper that isn’t the Cenotaph. This is what it actually says:

Fuckin’ queers.

That’s the whole thing, I swear.  But if you’re still interested and want to know the health hazards of homosexuality, TotD has you covered. Please direct the money you were about to spend on the book into the Donate Button.

The Health Hazards of Homosexuality

  • Depression, because nasty shitlickers like the cowardly fuck who wrote this book without putting his name on it spread hatred over the national conversation like a snail leaves slime.
  • Anxiety, because the current administration is actively working towards making life more hazardous for homosexuals.
  • Choking on a dong.

Stop that. Can’t you make your point without cheap jokes?

What’s the fun in that?

Hamilton: The Dialogue

“He is a varlet!”

“Yes, yes.”

“A rank scoundrel bound neither by convention nor morality!”

“I know, but it’s all you talk about, Hammy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I just want to discuss something other than politics. Just for a little bit.”

“Easy for you to say. I’ve ne’er heard a statement more imbued with white privilege, General Washington.”

“White privilege? Have you been talking to Martin Luther King Bust again?”

“He’s a powerful speaker.”

“He is a divisive race-baiter.”

“I heard that, you tree-mouthed motherfucker.”

“I meant you to, Dreamy.”

“General Washington, the man is a cad and a bounder.”

“So was my brother Billy.”

“Your brother was named Billy?”

“He made beer.”

“We’re off the point. This miscreant means to bring down what we strove and fought to bring about. He shall be the end of the republic.”

“You have a very Chicken Little attitude towards life.”

“And you, sir, are like Pliny’s ostrich. Head buried in the sand.”

“How dare you?”

“I dare!”

“Then we shall duel!”

“Dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say–”


“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”


“You’re right, Al. You’re right. My bad, my dude. All on me. My bad.”

“I’m hyperventilating.”

“Breathe. Just breathe.”

“I need a paper bag.”

“Well, we’re portraits. So you can’t have one.”

“Just gimme a sec.”

“Take as much time as you need.”

“You really are a rotten asshole, you slaver motherfucker.”

“FUCK YOU, MARTY! No one asked your opinion!”

“From the piney woods of Georgia to the mighty redwoods of California; from the desert to the sea; from the lunch counters of Alabama to the auction blocks of New Orleans: one of these days, I’m going to beat your ass, George.”

“You call me General Washington, damn you!”

“Right after you suck on my nuts.”

“George Washington sucks on no nuts!”

“Big black free nuts, buddy. Take out your teeth and open wide.”

“Gentlemen! Stop fighting! We must put aside our petty differences and solve the problem to hand. For providence’s sake, he’s even brought streetwalkers into the Oval Office.”

“I think that’s his wife.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I cannot tell a lie.”



“She looks like a off-brand Barbie doll left in the car on a hot day.”

“Regardless. She is the First Lady.”

“Worst lady.”

“You know, Hammy–”

“Don’t call me that.”

“–I’m beginning to think that there is nothing this man can do right in your eyes.”

“You should have been thinking that for some time now, General. He has proven foul in every possible way. Why are you defending him? He belongs to a political party and loves foreign entanglements. He’s everything you despise.”

“Not everything.”

“What? What, then, is the attribute of this homunculus that you admire?”

“Well. You know.”


“You knooooooow.”

“I truly do not.”

“I don’t want to say in front of Martin Luther King Bust.”


“I hate the both of you and wish I were out in the hall with Clinton Portrait and Kennedy Portrait.”

“I’ve heard they throw some good parties.”

A Partial Transcript Of Donald Trump’s Press Conference – San Juan, Puerto Rico 10/3/17

“Thank you, great, Puerto Rico, great. We got here this morning, beautiful weather. Such a spectacular flight over. Pilot was pointing out the other islands, you could see forever, just the most beautiful flight. A little hot here. Can we crank up the air? Brock? Where’s Brock Long? Brock?”


“Brock. This guy’s famous now. Looks so good on teevee, very strong. Hasn’t slept in almost ten hours. Giving it all for me. Really working very hard for me. Brock, great. Brock, turn up the air.”

“We’re trying to conserve diesel, Mr. Pres–”

“I wanna be able to see my breath.”

“Fine, sir.”


“Brock. A-plus. Everyone’s giving him A-plus after A-plus. Doing just the best job. Would be doing better if certain people weren’t trying to stop him, and of course the fake news. What’s ‘fake news’ in Spanish? Fake-o news-o. Very bad. Shame none of the hurricanes didn’t knock down some newsrooms.

“Category Five. Tremendous hurricane. No one knew there could be a Five. Some people said a Three, a Four. I predicted a Five. Just the biggest hurricane anyone has ever seen, which no one saw coming. Still: not Katrina. 85,000 people died in Katrina, many of them murdered by Hillary Clinton herself. Here, it’s 16. 16 people dead, right? Something like that, around there. Not bad. 16 dead is acceptable. You people kill twice as many during soccer games.  I can live with 16.

“Everything is going so well, and everyone involved is being very, very generous with their comments. Such beautiful comments. The people here have been so welcoming except for a couple. We’ll get to them. We’ll get to them. I want to let people thank me first. We have a Congresswoman. Congresswoman?”

“Here, sir.”


“Right here, sir.”

“Where is she?”

“I’m the short woman raising my hand, sir.”

“I know who you are. Congresswoman from Puerto Rico. Biggest constituency in the country. I know that. Many people don’t, but I do. No one told me on the plane ride over, I knew it. Did you know that? 3.5 million in your constituency.”

“I did, sir.”

“Less the 16 who died.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Great, talk about the job we’re doing that I’m doing.”

“Mr. President, on behalf of the people of Puerto Rico, I would like to thank you for the exemplary leadership you’ve shown during this crisis. You’ve coordinated the military, FEMA, and various civilian agencies. I have never seen a man so thoroughly in control of all of the facts, contingencies, and logistics of a situation. Your brave and strong presidenting has been an inspiration to us all, and as we say in Puerto Rico, Sólo sigue dándonos dinero, idiota.

“See? Very nice. Generous and nice, and many people heard her say it. Just wonderful. Hey, who wants toilet paper? I got toilet paper.”


“Hands up, everybody. Catch the toilet paper.”


“Great, fun, okay. Where’s Mitch? I got Mitch Mulvaney, my budget guy. Hillary wouldn’t have brought her budget guy, but I did. Smart! Mitch is great, a great choice, and people are saying the nicest things about him. Working very hard on the budget and you come along and screw it all up. This is gonna be expensive, maybe the most expensive project America has ever undertaken. We’re spending a lot of money on you. Maybe we’re not spending? Maybe we’re lending. We’ll discuss that, we’ll get to that.

“I brought Linda McMahon. Linda? Where’s Linda? Her and Vince, her husband Vince, great guy, they have built such an incredible business. Linda?”

“Here, Mr. President.”

“Linda, I think I could have taken Big John Studd.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“He didn’t have the speed. I am one of the quickest people you’re ever gonna meet. Like, anywhere. I think I could have beaten him using that speed.”

“I’m sure you could have, sir.”

“You heard her. You heard her beautiful comment. I beat Big John Studd. I got so many generals here, and I get the best generals. Everybody see my generals? Don’t they look great? Where’s Army? Who is Army?”

“Here, sir.”

“Stand up, Army. Great, look at this. Okay, sit down. Navy? Who’s my Navy?”

“That’s me, sir.”

“Hello, Navy. I love that uniform.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Air Force? Did we bring an Air Force? Air Force? No Air Force? General Kelly, where’s my Air Force? General Kelly? Where’s the general?”


“General? Air Force? Okay, they’re around here. Who are you?”

“I’m with the Coast Guard, sir.”

“Why are you wearing a uniform?”

“Because the Coast Guard is part of the military, sir.”

“I knew that. Everyone knows that I knew that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You all heard him say that I knew that. We have the best Coast Guard of maybe any country in the world. Lots of countries get their coasts invaded, but never us. And that’s because of these brave, brave, brave men. So brave. I’m gonna get you guys new boats.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“With stealth. You know what this stealth is? You, like, can’t see the boat at all. There’s literally nothing there. Guys are looking around, they can’t see you. It’s the most amazing technology you’ve ever seen and paired with our brave, brave, brave Coast Guard, who the NFL players are disrespecting, it’s gonna make us a country that everyone is talking about. Stealth boats, we’ll do that.

“We also cannot rule out the possibility that Radical Islamic Terrorism was behind the hurricane. How do we know what they’re capable of? Very smart people. Very evil, but very smart.

“And now we pray for Las Vegas.”


“All right, great, FEMA, great, thank you.”

Good Sports

You’ll never guess who picked another needless, pointless, irritating, childish, and ultimately losing fight on Twitter this weekend, Enthusiasts. C’mon, guess.

Thaaaaat’s right: the ghost of Benazir Bhutto. The late Prime Minister of Pakistan, who somehow is tweeting, came for Chrissy Teigen. And, as you know well, you simply do not come for Chrissy Teigen on social media.

Stop this.

Chrissy’s epic clapback against the assassinated leader is already a Twitter Moment and the source of several rather dank memes.

I told you to knock it off. Tell the nice people what’s happening in the world. 

The hand of fate is afoot.

My God.

You’re right to supplicate. None of us might get out of this one alive.

North Korea?


Radical Islamic Terrorism?


What’s worse than RIT?

Oh, let’s not call it that.

Tell me!

Donald Trump picked a fight with sports.

Which one?

No. Donald Trump picked a fight with sports. All of them. Which is impressive; very few presidents have managed to get into imbroglios with concepts before, but Donny’s a trailblazer. Bad Grandpa’s favorite teevee show of all time, Fox & Friends, ran a segment on football players kneeling during the National Anthem, so at his speech in Alabama a few hours later, Donny demanded that NFL owners fire any son of a bitch that knelt. The crowd cheered the loudest it had all evening, and so therefore he said it again the next morning during one of his pre-dawn raids on our collective sanity. Diaper Face also found time to disinvite Stephon Curry from coming to the White House.

This was all before his Cookie Crisp. (Donald Trump eats Cookie Crisp.)

An interlude 

White House Chief of Staff John F. Kelly has a new evening routine: He periodically strolls the perimeter of the White House grounds late at night, inspecting the compound and chatting with Secret Service agents to see if they have what they need. – Washington Post, 9/22/17

You wind up pitying them. I do, at least. They’re enabling a monster, and then they go and do something vaguely human and you cant help but empathize. I bet Kelly starts looking forward to that walk by lunch. Planning stuff to talk about with the Secret Service agents. Maybe buying them stuff. I bet the Secret Service treats him like the overnight desk clerk treats the guest who can’t sleep and wandered down into the lobby to chat.

End of interlude

The leaky boat full of ebola-covered hyenas that is now our executive has double-downed several times since his initial statement; were he playing blackjack, the rules would have forced him to stop doubling-down three or four double-downs ago, but we all know casino rules aren’t really Donny’s thing. By about noon, he had talked himself into attacking the NFL, forcing some of the owners–whom I assure you are all more terrible human beings than you can imagine–to denounce his statements. Essentially, the president dared the NFL to tell him to go fuck himself.

Other sporting concerns stepped into the fray, too. How did they respond?


The NBA is not in season, but most players and some coaches have already expressed displeasure at the president’s remarks; Skip Bayless has already called the players lazy thugs.


No one cares.


One guy knelt, and another guy spit tobacco juice, and everyone showed some good hustle.


To show their outrage at Trump’s statements, rugby players drank heavily while wearing attractive shirts.


Nascar thought Trump didn’t go far enough, and would like the entire NFL arrested except for most of the quarterbacks, a few tight ends, and all of the kickers.


No official response.


Not an actual sport.


Men are with the shitstreak. Ladies’ tour? Not as much.

Professional surfing.

Gnar, braj.

“Fuck It, Just Punch The Next Black Guy You See,” Trump Tells Cheering Audience

HUNTSVILLE, AL – President Donald J. Trump, appearing at a rally tonight in support of Senate candidate Luther Strange, capped off his speech by saying, “Enough with the political correctness, right. Right, sure, the worst, right. CNN is turning off their cameras because they want blacks to punch you. Y’know what? Fuck it, just punch the next black guy you see.”

The crowd, estimated at 4,000 by fire marshals and 25,000 by President Trump, applauded rapturously while several camera operators slipped out the door.

“Ever see what a black will do with the flag?” Trump continued. “Wrap it around their chongas. That the way you want the flag to be treated?”

The crowd, now pogoing up and down with cultural anxiety, began howling. “No!” they screamed, and “Never!” and another word that starts with N.

“We let them be quarterbacks and this is how the blacks treat us? We let them be quarterbacks!”

“Damn them!” the crowd shouted. “They’re natural wide receivers!” was a cry heard from several quarters of the audience.

Hearing the applause, Trump slipped into a fugue state and began screaming “DARKIE TIME! GET’EM! GET ‘EM!” at the top of his lungs until a choking fit overcame him and he spit up a demon named A’kiok, who ate Katy Tur.

Interviewed after the speech, Bessie Mae Jessups said, “I liked the stuff about punching black folks, but I do wish he’d tweet a bit less. It isn’t helpful.” At the speech was Jonathan Chait from New York magazine, who said that Trump’s speech was very presidential and then complained about college students for 2,000 words.

Countries Of The World (According To Trump)

  • Zimbobble.
  • Samoans.
  • Olly-Olly-Oxenfree.
  • Southern Africa.
  • Canadia.
  • The People’s Republicans of Taiwan.
  • The Place Where They Make The Canoes, You Know What I’m Talking About, Great, Beautiful.
  • Puerto Rico.
  • Gallifrey.
  • Rhodesia.
  • Lichtenbourg.
  • Someanimals.
  • Southern Ireland. (“There’s a Northern, there’s gotta be a Southern. People aren’t aware of this, most people. Doing great things, Southern Ireland.”)
  • Gutter.
  • Bangagong.
  • That Place With All The French People.

Transcript Of Donald J. Trump’s Remarks To The U.N. General Assembly 9/19/17

“Great, yes, great. Wonderful. The biggest general assembly in many, many years. I’ve got generals. John? Where’s John Kelly? He’s my general, great general, very tall and strong, great hire by me. John, where are you?”


“John? He’s somewhere, he’s great, the best general. I yell for him and he assembles. No one assembles like my generals.

“It’s great to be here in New York City, whose mayor is a real creep, to address you on behalf of all the people who voted for me, but not the losers and haters and all the fake news people who are very disgusting. You got fake news where you’re from? Hey, black guy. You got fake news wherever you’re from?”


“Yeah, yeah, black guy, inner cities, terrible, carnage. You.”

“I don’t understand what you’re–”

“What does your little sign say? Botswana? Is that a real place?”

“Yes, it–”

“I knew that. Many people are unaware of Botswana, but it’s doing really, really, really beautiful things right now. Good job. Hurricane hit you?”

“Of course the hurricane–”

“Probably millions dead in Bobwanna. So very sad. I pledge a billion dollars to help. We’ll get right on the details, but everyone is going to be very happy, even the millions dead. Sad, but I’m a hero.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the United Nations, I come to you at a time of American prosperity because of me and my election, which was the greatest electoral victory of all time. The stock market just hit 45,000. Hillary wanted to bomb Wall Street. An actual bomb, believe me! Maybe she kept some of the uranium she personally delivered to Russia, which is not a thing. No Russia, no Russia.

“We are so powerful. Not all of us. Us. Not you. America has to come first because we’re the best country with the best president. Know who’s not a god president? Rocket Man. Hey, Bobwanna–”


“–you guys know the Rocket Man? You got stereos there or still with the huts?”

“We are a modern–”

“Packed my bags pre-flight. Zeeba deeba dobba doo. You know that song? Elton John. Mike Pence is a big fan. Where’s Mike? Mike? Where’s Mike? Stand up, Mike.”


“Mike? He’s here, he’s great. Eats the same lunch every day. Tuna sandwich. Mike? He’s around here.

“Anyway, Rocket Man might make me kill everyone in North Korea. I don’t want to. I wish I didn’t have to, but I’m the president of the US, which makes me the president of the UN. Truman snuck that into the charter. Tucker Carlson did a whole thing on it. I don’t know about desegregating the Army, but the charter thing was good. Many people don’t know this about Truman. Better than Roosevelt. I said it, I said it. Why didn’t Roosevelt drop the bomb on Japan years earlier? Roosevelt didn’t stand up for America. Couldn’t. You know, legs. I probably have the most powerful legs of any president. Standing broad jump champ of New York City as a teenager, all the boroughs.

“I will send Rocket Man on the highway to hell, where he will get no satisfaction. That’s all rock and roll, Bob Wanna.”

“Botswana. And it’s not my name, you–”

“I was gonna call him Fatty Squintsalot, but Ivanka said to me, she said, ‘Daddy, don’t do that. Don’t be mean, Daddy.’ How could I say no? So, I was nice. I didn’t call him Fatty Squintsalot. I was very nice.

“Rocket Man is going down. No one respects him. Everyone makes fun of how he looks. Country’s a shithole. I have to say it: shithole. Almost as bad as the UN Building. Very poorly constructed. Reminds me of the White House. Not a four-star destination. No clubhouse. Are there any tennis courts at all? I haven’t seen any. How do you build a place with no tennis courts?

“Where’s Iran? We’re gonna maybe bomb them, too, maybe, we’ll see. I’ll tell you in two weeks. Where’s Iran? You, are you Iran?”

“Iraq. You already bombed us.”

“Keep it up and you’ll get more. Iran? Where’s Iran? You?”

“We’re Ireland, y’ fookin’ eejit.”

“I got the right row. Iran? Show yourself, Iran, or I come up with a nickname for you, too.”


“They’re around here somewhere. Probably committing Radical Islamic Terrorism. I’m gonna say it again to make up for Obama, who never said it because he was very weak and half-black. Radical Islamic Terrorism. One more time, and I’m gonna do my hand gesture really, really hard.







“However you say ‘hombres’ in Iranian, they’re bad ones.

“Okay, so you need to make your countries great again, just like America is great again because I made it great. I only wish that I could be president of all your countries so I could make them all great myself. God bless America and wherever you live to, except Iran and North Korea, who I’m going to bomb, maybe, we’ll see.

“All right, great.”

Fuck You, Donny

I don’t say it enough. Fuck you, Donny; you’re a monkey’s cunt-hair and when that big, greasy heart of yours goes, I’ll whistle Dixie.

Fuck your demented blabbering and your 200-word vocabulary and your mouth that reminds me of a dead dog’s asshole.

Fuck your hobbled conscience–if it ever learned to walk in the first place–and your pathetic need for your father’s love.

Fuck your thin, orange skin.

Fuck your racism and all your little toads who just ask questions–But how exactly is he racist?–and your winks and whistles.

Fuck you for not reading. Do you even have a favorite band, you soulless cocksucker?

Fuck you for your incompetence. Shit, Dubya was a dunce, but he managed to fuck the world up real good; you can’t even do that.

Fuck you for making me nostalgic for Dubya.

Fuck your blithe know-nothingism, your historical glissandi, your “you’ll see in two weeks” bullshit.

Fuck you for thinking we’re stupid enough to ever believe you.

Fuck you for sitting your fat ass where Teddy Roosevelt wrote and thought and led.

Fuck your golf clubs, and fuck golf in general.

Fuck you on behalf of the Mexicans, the manatees, the homosexuals, and the hurricanes. And Harriet Tubman; fuck you on behalf of Harriet Tubman, Donny. And the Christ, too, for tho He is surely infinite and therefore you are of the Christ, if the Christ is infinite, then He must also be a complete asshole in need of a stomping.

Fuck you for embarrassing me, you ape made of shit.

Fuck you for embarrassing America, whom you do not love, just use as a whore.

Fuck you, Donny.

And God fuck us all, everyone.

Maggie Haberman Should Stop Picking Up The Phone After A Certain Hour


“No. No. No, no, no. I’m just not gonna answer it. I’m not gonna pick it up. But they won’t give up. They’ll keep calling me, and they’ll keep calling me until I listen to their drunken bullshit. No. No, no. I’m not gonna pick it up. I’m not.”


“Fuck! Hello?”

“Maggie, this is Donald Trump.”

“Oh, hello, Mister–”



“I did a thing today.”

“You sure did, buddy. Testified in front of the Senate Judiciary Committee. How’d it go?”

“Fucking killed it.”

“Uh-huh. I heard you got lost coming back from the bathroom.”

“That building is complicated!”


“They should let my dad build them a new Senatorium.”

“Capitol. The building is called the Capitol.”

“They should call it the Ugly Zone. There’s no amenities at all. I kept asking people, ‘Are you the concierge?’ And everyone was like, ‘Junior, you’re talking to a statue.’ I was confused a little, but then I yelled ‘Fake News!’ and I made myself laugh and everything was okay. Well, not okay. I was still pretty lost. Hey, what are you wearing?”

“A Sarah Lawrence tee-shirt and sweatpants with a pizza stain on them.”


“What are you wearing, Junior?”

“A business suit, because I’m a businessman.”

“Right. Even at three in the morning?”

“Ten a.m. in Moscow.”


“Dude, you would not believe how hard I bullshitted these dummies. They just sat there eating it up. They bought everything.”

“Riiiiight. Junior, do you know what a ‘perjury trap’ is?”

“Pssh. Of course I do. I went to Pennsylvania University.”

“You mean the University of Pennsylvania?”

“Same thing.”

“It’s not. What’s a perjury trap, Junior?”


“Are you googling it?”

“No! I KNOW WHAT IT IS! I’m smart.”


“Perjury trap doctrine refers to a principle that a perjury indictment against a person must be dismissed if the prosecution secures it by calling that person as a grand-jury witness in an effort to obtain evidence for a perjury charge especially when the person’s testimony does not relate to issues material to the ongoing grand-jury investigation. The perjury trap is a form of entrapment defense, and so must be affirmatively proven by the defendant.”

“Yeah, that’s the first hit on google.”

“No, it’s not! What’s google? I’ve never even heard of that. Is it like antifa? You are such fake news.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Why aren’t you supporting my dad? He’s the greatest president ever. Ever!”

“Well, that’s debatable, and the job of a journalist isn’t to support the president. It’s to report the news.”

“Okay, well, here’s the news: President Trump is awesome. What other president has reached across the aisle before to make a deal with the enemy party?”

“All of them. Every single one. Until Obama, for some reason.”

“Because he was divisive.”

“Right. That’s it.”

“I still think he was born in Kanye.”

“Kenya. He was born in Kenya. And he wasn’t.”

“My dad says different. My lawyer took me for hot dogs after the hearing today. I had almost three.”

“Who’s a big boy?”

“I am.”

“Yes, you are. So, what exactly did you tell the Judicial Committee about that meeting?”

“Dude, I told them that the Russian lawyer lady didn’t have any good information.”

“Was that true?”

“OH MY GOD, NO. She gave us all sorts of shit on Hillary. And, you know, I vetted her fitness. Because if anyone’s more qualified than me to judge Hillary’s fitness, I don’t know who they are.”

“You, the man who’s never worked for anyone but his daddy, were going to ‘vet the fitness’ of a former Senator and Secretary of State?”

“Yeah, fuck her.”



“There it is. Okay, Junior. I gotta get some sleep.”

“Fuck that. Come on over. I got gak.”

“No, thank you.”

“Pink and flaky, yo.”


“More for Junior.”


Predictions I Hope Do Not Come True, But Fear Will

It always gets worse. Can we agree on this axiom? When it comes to Trump, it always gets worse. We went from garden-league racism on an escalator to grabbing pussies on buses to mocking Gold Star families to idiot sons taking treasonous meetings to accusing past presidents of “wiretapping” him to blabbing secret information to the Russians (I bet you forgot about that one) to picking fights with the rest of the government. Rarely, there are moments of levity–covfefe, Mooch, that fucking handshake thing he does–but other than that, it’s been a steadily downward trend. It always gets worse.

But, of course, now he’s defended Nazis. Equivocated between armed men waving swastikas around while chanting about the Jews–and, you know, not good chants like “WE LOVE JEWS”–and those come out to oppose them. He said, of a massed column of bold racists redfaced in hatred, that some of them must have been fine people. A woman ended up dead because of one of those fine people. This must be the bottom, one would think.

But one would be wrong, as we have established that it always gets worse. And it will: the Combovergruppenführer will outdo himself; he must; he is a moth drawn to the moon. He is a perfect machine, a miracle of evolution. All he does is watch teevee, fuck up, and tweet. He will fuck up stronger, faster. He has the technology.

But how? What tops good ol’ fashioned Nazi sympathizin’?

  • Forces a Secret Service agent to break a dog’s neck while he watches, laughing; then photoshops a CNN logo on the dog and tweets it out.
  • Sells Minnesota to a Chinese bank.
  • Demands The Art of the Deal be featured alongside the Constitution in the National Archives
  • Imanatizes the Eschaton.
  • Drives the presidential limo into a crowd of people.
  • Mao jacket.
  • Reveals himself to be Mictlāntēcutli, Aztec god of death.
  • Dislocates his jaw and swallows a live rat like Diana in V.
  • Exhumes Reagan for occult purposes.
  • Flat-out burns the fucking White House down.
Older posts Newer posts
%d bloggers like this: