Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: robert mueller

Revelations From The Mueller Indictments

  • There’s never been anything good with the initials IRA, and that includes noted disaster-movie director Irwin Allen, whose middle name was Reaganesque.
  • Even the Russians didn’t give a shit about Evan McMullin.
  • No party was charged with collusion, possibly because “collusion” isn’t the name of a crime.
  • You may or may not have run an errand for Vladimir Putin last year; there’s no way to be sure.
  • You may or may not be a Russian troll pretending to be an Enthusiast; there’s no way to be sure.
  • I may or may not be–
  • Stop it.
  • Stop all of this.
  • Wouldn’t it be great if I really were a Russian trollbot all along?
  • Like, I meant to tap the Deadhead niche and created the site to give myself some credibility, but I just got into it and forgot to sow dissension?
  • “Comrade TotDski, have you organized protest and counter-protest in Baton Rouge yet?”
  • “I haven’t. I’ve actually been working on a novel.”
  • I think that would be a great twist.
  • It would be.
  • You don’t own the bullet points. I can go wherever I want. You’re not the boss of me.
  • I absolutely am. I am the dominant voice. I stand up straight and you lean like a drunkard. Therefore, I win.
  • Ableist.
  • May I continue?
  • Yes.
  • Once again, the FBI has failed us, as it did nothing about reports of Russians standing on San Francisco street corners asking passersby for directions to “the nuclear wessels.”
  • It cannot be overstated how complicit and responsible Facebook, Twitter, Reddit, and YouTube are for this.
  • And Google.
  • If Tumblr is still a thing, then Tumblr, too.
  • I don’t know how much blame to put on Instagram.
  • Instagram is just bikini girls and food and John Mayer.
  • Fuck it, better safe than sorry: Instagram is on the list.
  • It will come as no shock that one of the states Russia targeted for special attention was Florida; the places share a lunatic bond; one of their dash-cam videos could have easily been filmed in Pompano Beach.
  • Here’s the 2020 Democratic candidate’s campaign slogan: “I will sever the cable that connects Russia to the internet with a great big hatchet.”
  • That’s a landslide right there.
  • Medicare for all, legalized pot, fuck Russia.
  • BOOM you just won the presidency.
  • Also important for a Dem to run in ’20 is “not a demon slaphead made of nightmare-shit.”
  • Nightmare-shit is when you have a nightmare so scary that you shit yourself.
  • It is a rare shit.
  • And that is what Donald Trump is made out of.
  • I have been told he employs a small army of goblins to go bedroom-to-bedroom collecting what they call “dough for the master.”
  • Sneak into your window, throw a dracula or two into your dreams, PPLFT you shit yourself in terror, and the goblins scoop it up and bring it back to the White House so they can re-sculpt our president every morning.
  • I have been told that by many, many people.
  • Many people are talking about it.

After Many A Peaceful Evening, A Late-Night Call Comes For Maggie Haberman


“Jesus. Fuck, I’m awake. I’m awake. Nothing but old bits tonight, huh? Hello?”

“Good evening, Ms. Haberman. This is Robert J. Mueller.”

“It’s three in the morning, Mr. Mueller.”

“I stopped sleeping two months ago; I just don’t have the time. We’re drinking from the firehose of stupidity in my office.”

You dropped some big indictments today.”

“Big? Please. You ain’t seen nothing yet. I was quoting Al Jolsen there, Ms. Haberman.”

“I understood the reference.”

“Obviously, I was not wearing blackface when I said it.”

“It hadn’t crossed my mind until you brought it up. So, today wasn’t big?”

“All I did today is whip it out. Not only have I not yet begun to fuck, but I haven’t even gotten hard yet. And I’m a thorough lover, Ms. Haberman.”


“I’m setting the stage. Previously, there was a strong contingent sticking with the ‘Russia did nothing wrong’ line. They’ll abandon that now for ‘No collusion.’ Then I’m gonna prove unwitting collusion, and they’ll accept that and retreat to ‘We didn’t commit treason on purpose.’ From there, we’ll get Junior to flip and testify to willful collusion. The argument will then be ‘The President himself didn’t do anything wrong.'”

“And then?”

“And then, Bob Mueller’s gonna cum justice all over America’s face.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’ve been drinking.”

“I gathered.”

“You would, too. My job is getting depressing. Everyone’s so damned dumb. Those Russian hackers? Those super-cyber warriors? They were posting selfies from work on Instagram and hashtagging it #internationalespionagelol.”

“Not stealthy.”

“Everyone involved in this asshole parade is the opposite of a ninja. You know ninjas, Ms. Haberman? Japanese, quiet?”

“I am aware of ninjas, yes.”

“The opposite. You can see them coming, and they leave nothing but evidence. And none of them are Japanese.”


“Although I wouldn’t be surprised if the Yakuza showed up in this. Russians, Americans, Mafia, Chinese businessmen.”

“Chinese businessmen?”

“They’re like Ferengi. I think they smelled the corruption all the way from Beijing and floated here led by their noses like Pepe LePew when he got a whiff of skunk-puss.”

“They were usually cats, Mr. Mueller.”

“Puss-puss. You know what I mean. Oh, and the Israelis.”


“That’s offensive, Ms. Haberman. I thought you were better than that.”

“Oh, wow, you’re right. I’m sor–”

“Of course it was fucking Jared. He loves those hummusfuckers. Promised Natanyahu that if Trump was elected, Israel could start bombing the shit out of Gaza again.”

“Make Israel great again?”

“I shit you not: those were the exact words the pale little fuck said to Bibi.”


“In return for some ‘campaign donations.'”

“Did you say that last phrase with quotation marks around it?”


“So you meant…”

“Briefcases full of cash.”

“Jesus. So you’re gonna indict some Israelis, too?”

“Mm, no. We made a deal with the Mossad in return for their help with…listen, Ms. Haberman: I’m working at unbelievably high levels here.”

“Apparently. So we’re just gonna concentrate on the Russians?”

“I’ve been waiting for my chance to get even with those tsarist fucks since the very first time Charlie shot at me with an AK47. This goes all the way to the top over there. I’m thinking about indicting Putin.”

“You’re going to indict Vladimir Putin?”

“No. I’m thinking about it. It makes me happy to do so. It’s going to be bittersweet charging the President of the United States with a crime. I wish I didn’t have to. But Putin? Fuck that guy.”

“Mr, Mueller?”


“How does this end?”

“One of two ways: poorly or terribly. And you wanna get down on your knees and pray for the first option.”

“Good night, Mr. Mueller.”

“Justice never sleeps, Ms. Haberman.”

The Late-Night Calls Never Stop At Maggie Haberman’s House


“Aw, c’mon. What did I do to deserve this besides kill those hobos? Hello?”

“Am I speaking to Margaret Lindsy Haberman?”

“Who is this?”

“This is Robert Mueller, ma’am. Are you Miss Haberman? Answer the question and remember that you’re under oath.”

“I am, but I’m not.”

“Ma’am, I’m calling in reference to certain phone calls that may or may not have been placed to you in the early morning hours of…Jesus, are they calling you every night?”

“Just about.”

“So you do admit that you have been receiving phone calls from the Trump Administration and various related persons?”

“You have a very prosecutorial tone.”

“I’m a prosecutor.”


“When did the phone calls begin, Miss Haberman?”

“Mooch. It all started with Mooch.”

“Mr. Scaramucci, yes.”

“Have you called him in for questioning, Mr. Mueller?”

“Off the record?”


“Like, four times already. Scheduled to come back in on Tuesday.”

“Jesus, what did he do?”

“Do? Nothing. He’s not in trouble at all, but we just love the guy. Got the best stories. Did you know he knows Bono?”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Miss Haberman, what did you and Mr. Scaramucci discuss?”

“His penis.”

“You talked about his penis for the entire conversation?”

“No, sometimes we were technically talking about other subjects, but the theme was always his penis.”

“You’re speaking about subtext.”

“There ya go.”

“Mr. Bannon also called you?”

“Several times. He’s garrulous.”

“He is. Keeps stopping by our offices to–and I quote–‘talk shit about Jews.'”

“That sounds like him. Don’t tell me he’s implicated in the Russia thing.”

“There’s no Russia, no Russia.”

“I’m messing with you, Miss Haberman.”

“You got me.”

“Everyone falls for that. People don’t realize how robust my sense of humor is.”

“Very robust, Mr. Mueller.”

“There’s so much damn Russia.”

“That’s the vibe I’m getting. And Steve Bannon’s involved?”

“Oh, no. That man hates foreigners. Truly and deeply. Wouldn’t collaborate with a Russian. I don’t even know if he’d have a beer with a Canadian.”

“Big Steve’s got his principles.”

“He smells like someone cut open a durian fruit in a port-a-potty.”

“That, too.”

“I see that Donald Trump, Jr., has also reached out to you.”

“Yeah, Fredo.”

“Oh, that’s funny. We call him that, too.”

“How much trouble is he in?”

“All. Fredo is in all the trouble. I’m suffering from choice over here about who to turn into witnesses and who to send to jail. These are some of the sloppiest numbskulls I’ve ever come in contact with. Ever see a baby eating spaghetti? Like that. There’s evidence just everywhere.”

“I’m sure.”

“Sean Spicer also called you several times?”


“Manage to make it through the phone call without chopping one of his legs off?”

“Just barely.”

“You should see this guy’s journals. He took notes on everything.”


“Absolutely everything. There’s even little sketches of where people were sitting. He’s actually not a bad artist. His lines remind me of George Grosz.”

“That should be helpful.”

“They’re just about making my case for me. That and the fact that I’m currently tapping the phones of everyone in the White House.”


“We are still off the record, Miss Haberman.”


“It’s an old-fashioned Tennessee Dick Tug going on over there. Lots of crying and hate-sex, too. Imagine Jabba’s Palace, but if David Lynch directed it.”

“The White House is a bit of a mess; yes, sir.”

“All Kelly does is put out fires. Actual fires, Miss Haberman. Someone over there’s a firebug.”

“This is a weird year.”

“We think it’s Omarosa. Miss Haberman, is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“I don’t think so.”

“If you say so. Good night, Miss Haberman.”

“Good night, Mr. Mueller.”


“You think he heard me?”

“No, we’re safe, baby.”

“I love you, Baberman.”

“I love you, Mooch.”

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