After a Secretive Hospital Trip, We Have to Wonder: Is God About to Impeach Donald Trump?(Ferret/SC)
Lots of shit has hit lots of fans these past few years, but we’re gonna need all the windmills in Holland to handle the coming turdstorm. I’m trying to save up my energy for the weeklong impeachment buffet, so let’s plow through the appetizers, cleanse our palates with a little justice sorbet, and get ready for the main course.
(And yes, you can find this post, with all the news links you know and love, at: http://showercapblog.com/after-a-secretive-hospital-trip-we-have-to-wonder-is-god-about-to-impeach-donald-trump/)
Well, to hear Generic Sarah Sanders Substitute Stephanie Grisham tell it, on Saturday afternoon, bored with golf and screaming at the Magical Talking Television Box, Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot was overwhelmed by a sudden urge to rush over to Walter Reed to take his annual physical. Well, part of it, anyway. Months early. Just cuz. This is a totally regular, normal, thing lots of regular, normal, people do all the time, really; perfectly mimicking the steps one would take in a medical emergency while actually seeking a routine checkup scheduled for months in the future. Well, again, part of it. Not all. Also super deluxe meganormal to break one’s physical into chunks.
So yeah, the Shart House is rather obviously lying to the American people about the state of the President’s health, which I don’t think is fair, because if it’s something serious, I’d really like to be able to stock up on champagne and confetti, and you know there’s gonna be a run on that shit if he just unexpectedly drops dead. Party supply stores’ll look like those photos of empty bottled water shelves right before a hurricane. Like, what if the tariffs have drastically depleted the supply of noisemakers and little pointy conical hats? We need to be able to plan around that stuff, is all I’m sayin’.
So Redactor General Billy Barr gave a terrifying little speech about how an unchecked executive branch is good, actually, and how you can lead an increasingly authoritarian Republican Party to the Constitution, but you can’t make ‘em read it. If American democracy survives, we’re gonna have to remember to ask future AG nominees to answer questions like “on a scale of 1 to 10, precisely how horny for fascism are you?” during their confirmation hearings. Live n’ learn.
Well, the Trump doctrine is really coming into focus in Syria. He likes to say America First, right? Well, on the military bases we hastily abandoned on Hairplug Himmler’s murderous-dictator-placating whim, America was there FIRST, but Russia is there NOW. I don’t know about y’all, but seeing the Russian flag flying on a pole paid for with my tax dollars, I feel about as patriotic as a bald eagle vomiting up the partially-digested remains of a poisoned rat.
I guess we have to keep on talking about Elise Stefanik and her plot to ascend to MAGA glory via two of Trumpism’s central tenets: whining and lying (I’m sure the racism will come soon enough). Yes, Stefanik, aided by that treacherous pigfucker, Devin Nunes, cooked up a slick little stunt, speaking out of turn during the impeachment hearings, in order to disingenuously lay claim to Holy Victimhood, for lo, under the tyranny of Adam Schiff and his gavel, she was most vilely forced to Wait Her Turn, Just Like Everybody Else. Of course, the scheme backfired, with her Democratic opponent, Tedra Cobb, raising a cool million bucks off that sad piece of jagoff performance art. Come 2021, I bet you can land a gig as a concierge in Trump Towers Istanbul, Elise.
House Dems released more impeachment hearings testimony over the weekend, likely to give President Liposuction Clinic Dumpster something to read during his newfangled, multi-stage, physical. Tim Morrison testified that Littlefinger did a bunch of illegal shit, but since Morrison doesn’t personally think the illegal shit was illegal, Gym Jordan and co. are proclaiming their Turd Emperor fully vindicated, which...whatever, bro. Jennifer Williams confirmed much of what we already know, and I have to have to say, this shit is pretty thoroughly corroborated for a deep state hoax.
If you’re Donald Trump (and I assume you’re not, but if you are, hey fuck you, buddy), you can’t spell “Louisiana” without “Loser,” because even holding three separate Klan rallies for his chosen candidate wasn’t enough to win Saturday’s gubernatorial election runoff in the deep-red Pelican State. I’m not saying the pelicans are red, by the way, that would be silly. Though it turns out, the Red Pelicans were an aerobatics team in the 1960’s, which is kind of interesting; I google all kinds of shit when I write this blog. ANYWAY, my point is, Lil’ Donnie Two-Scoops keeps on losing, because he is a great big loser.
Y’know, if I’d spent countless years on an intricate plan to infiltrate the Republican Party, going so far as to get extensive plastic surgery in order to look exactly like Reince Priebus, (down to distilling a cologne from the musk of multiple mustelids, so as to smell extra weaselly) with the intention of destroying the bastards from within, I don’t think I’d have managed to lose governor’s races in both Kentucky AND Louisiana, on top of an Alabama Senate seat and 40 House districts. Someday, I may have to have send Donnie Dotard a thank you card for all the work he’s done on behalf of the Resistance, assuming he’s allowed correspondence in jail.
Unmoved by popular opposition to his Big Stupid Wall, his Big Stupid Trade War, his concentration camps full of traumatized children, his white supremacist immigration policies, or his repeated attempts to steal health care from millions, the Marmalade Shartcannon suddenly turned weak-kneed poll-watcher over a proposed ban on flavored e-cigarettes. I suppose when you’re a Republican gettin’ his ass kicked in the Deep South, you kiss whatever asses are willing to remain in the room. Maybe I’ll drop by the Trump building downtown, proclaim myself a swing voter, and demand free beer, served in their fanciest available glassware...hang out for a few hours, then piss all over the most expensive rug I can find.
Ron Johnson, the Dumbest Man in the Senate Except for the Days When Louie Gohmert Gets Lost, says that the REAL problem with the Ukraine scandal is that the public found out about it at all; what’s the point of even having a President if we’re not going to let him extort foreign governments in peace and comfort, right? Sadly, RoJo, we have indeed learned of the Individual Wonder’s many crimes, and if the best you have to offer is stale whining about Peter Strzok’s texts, I guess you’re just one more hapless nitwit on a defense team led by Rudy “I’ll confess to everything on TV” Giuliani.
It seems there have been more mass shootings in the last week than there were attendees at the Dallas Straight Pride Parade, make of that what you will.
In today’s Swamp-Drainin’ Best People profile, meet Clarence Mason Weaver, who hilariously imagines that his hateful, ignorant, misogyny makes him some sort of “alpha male.” Now, me, if I were trying to get re-elected, and I’d already pissed female voters off so much it cost my party numerous suburban House districts they’d held for years, or even decades, I wouldn’t be bringing on dudes who like to bleat toxic shit about how women should be “handmaidens,” but then, I suppose I’m not a blistering idiot with a mind rapidly deteriorating from exposure to experimental hair tonic fumes.
And Former Best Person Mina Chang announced her resignation from the State Department post she had no fucking business holding in the first place, whining about being “unfairly maligned” because the media, those dastardly enemies of the people, revealed that her resume was full of pipin’ hot piles of fresh bullshit, rather than the more traditional “actual experience and accomplishments” most employers tend to gravitate towards. Miss ya already, Mina.
Poor Doug Manchester didn’t even get the chance to officially become one of the Best People, despite a seven-figure bribe, er, I mean “donation.” Look, a team that’s losing to Democrats in Kentucky and Louisiana needs all the cash it can get, so of COURSE they tried to drag another half million out of you, Dougie! You should count yourself lucky though, the rich fucks who managed to successfully pay their way to ambassadorships in this administration tend to find themselves at the heart of international criminal conspiracies.
In light of testimony at Roger Stone’s trial that seemed to indicate Dorito Mussolini lied to the Mueller investigation, House Democrats are now investigating whether or not Dorito Mussolini lied to the Mueller investigation. I can spare you some time, folks; he absolutely lied to Mueller. He lies to everyone. Right now, he’s telling Mick Mulvaney to go ahead and a start a West Wing Secret Santa pool, and that he’ll get a really awesome present for whoever he draws, when we all know he’ll just wind up jamming a gift certificate to Trump University into a greeting card, probably one that reads “World’s Greatest Dad,” without even bothering to scratch out Eric’s signature.
Here’s one I missed last week: seems the Poo Mistake has developed quite the taste for extorting our most faithful allies, demanding a 400% increase in protection money from South Korea under the threat of removing U.S. troops, and canceling joint military exercises to placate the tenth-rate dictator who apparently gets to set American foreign policy now.
Of course, North Korea responded to all of these unilateral concessions by inviting Weehands McNodick to use his tiny, inadequate, fingers to stuff his ass full of undistributed challenge coins, refusing to even restart talks. Lord. The Washington Generals win more.
Republicans tend to oppose welfare except when it’s for big corporations...or Benjamin Netanyahu. Anyway, Chief Thuglomat Mike Pompeo helpfully crossed another item off Bibi’s bucket list, announcing the U.S. would no longer view Israeli settlements in the West Bank as “inconsistent with international law,” reversing decades of American policy. At least Netanyahu, unlike Kim Jong-un, has the decency to publicly kiss Fat Q*Bert’s ass.
House Dems released the impeachment hearings public testimony schedule for the week, and it’s like Coachella, only for patriots desperate to save their country from tyranny. A late addition, David Holmes, will be playing through his popular early album, “I Overheard the President Telling Gordon Sondland to Get Ukraine to Investigate the Bidens,” in its entirety, which should be a real treat.
Ok, Resisters, we’ve got a long week of watching Adam-Schiff’s-boot-shaped welts raise all over Shart Garfunkel’s ass. Remember to stay hydrated, and keep lozenges at hand in case you go hoarse from laughing at Devin Nunes. I’ll see y’all soon.
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