I Regret to Inform You That Jared Kushner is Now i
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I Regret to Inform You That Jared Kushner is Now in Charge of This Blog
These just get better and better, don't they? Writes itself? No, this guy writes it better.
Friday, April 3rd, 2020
by Shower Cap | American Madness Journal |
showercapblog.com/i-regret-to-inform-you-that-jared-kushner-is-now-in-charge-of-this-blog/
Hello! I’m television’s Jared Kushner, and my Daddy-in-Law nationalized this blog and gave it to me to run! Now, I know you fans of Bath Captain enjoy your humor, so I’ve decided to outsource tonight’s post to my close, personal, friend…CARROT TOP! I sure hope prop comedy translates to prose!
Just kidding, folks, I would never do that to you. The President of the United States, however, has seen fit to expand Kushner’s portfolio as Secretary of Pouring Gasoline on Fires to include overseeing the tragic clusterfuck they’re laughably referring to as the federal coronavirus response.
While young Jar-Jar has failed to solve the opioid crisis or bring peace to the Middle East, he has recently, at long last, graduated to pull-up diapers, so Littlefinger felt he deserved a promotion.
Distressingly, there haven’t yet been 25 books written about the coronavirus, so Kid Nepotism will be unable to bring the full force of his intellect down upon the disease, but hey, I bet he totally tricked it into leaving us alone with his drive-thru-MBA-speak the other day.
With the federal medical supply stockpile rapidly dwindling, the Crown Prince of Failing Upwards decided to redefine said stockpile as the Trump family’s personal playpen, with goodies to be dispensed according to whim and asskissery. The creepy little freak even doctored the official website after the fact to reflect his lie/mistake, because cut-rate Orwell is just how this administrations rolls, muthafuckas.
Senator Kelly Loeffler may not be much when it comes to serving the people of Georgia, but when serving herself, she’s Daniel Goddamn Webster. She certainly kept busy while leaving all us chump plebs to die, making a number of savvy investment moves based on the coronavirus briefings she shared not with her constituents, but with her stockbroker.
See, she dumped retail and travel stock just before the economy shut down, and snatched up shares of medical suppliers like Beanie Babies, back when Beanie Babies were a thing. Anyway, I’m sure we’ll all be surprised when the Loeffler family turns out to just happen to own the emergency morgue trucks called into service near overburdened hospitals.
With more than 9 million people newly out of work, and, with health insurance so frequently tied to employment, the corresponding surge in the uninsured, Government Cheese Goebbels refused to re-open the Obamacare exchanges, because he’d rather let millions of us die than allow a program bearing his predecessor’s name to save suffering Americans’ lives. Also, Putin told him not to.
Speaking of Vlad, I’m certainly thankful for the help, but the sight of a military plane from a fifth-rate ex-superpower like Russia touching down on American soil to deliver medical supplies, like we’re some backwoods shithole country, because Generalissimo Germophobe bungled away weeks of precious time coddling his approval ratings, was enough to turn a bald eagle red with shame. The equipment even came from a sanctioned Russian company, just to remind everyone who’s boss.
Out in L.A., some crotchsniffing nutjob, in the thrall of as yet undisclosed conspiracy theories, crashed a freight train in an attempt to run into a Navy hospital ship. I dunno, I get that everybody’s on edge these days, but I feel like I’d need some real concrete proof of some real nasty shit before I CRASHED A TRAIN INTO A HOSPITAL SHIP. A full confession. Notarized. God only knows what bat-guano-encrusted internet rabbit hole this loon fell down, but I guess from now we all need to demand to see the pilot/engineer/driver’s search history before boarding any mode of public transportation.
The artifact-smuggling rectal boils who run Hobby Lobby have decided that what Jesus would do during a pandemic is tell the law to lick his holy butthole, endanger his employees and the public generally, and reopen his chain of chintzy craft supply stores in defiance of shelter-in-place orders. These demonic shitbags actually had the gall to claim God swung by for a quick vision to tell them he was totally down with their employees risking their lives to sell glitter and yarn. As delusions go, it must be awfully nice to convince yourself that the voice in your head telling you to fuck everyone around you over for personal profit is God’s.
Sultan Spraytan tried to spice up the Daily Propaganda Spew with some gobbledygook about drugs cartels, hoping to squeeze some non-coronavirus headlines out of his captive audience, oh that tricky dotard. It’s fucking adorable that this clown imagines he can distract us from his failings. WE’RE TRAPPED INSIDE OUR HOMES, NUMBNUTS! We have HOURS every single day to ruminate on all the ways you’ve fucked up our lives and our country. You could dance for the cameras in pasties and a g-string* and we still wouldn’t forget any of the shit you’ve broken.
Dr. Anthony Fauci has emerged as America’s Unlikely Sweetheart, a beacon of truth in a sea of warm liquid bullshit…at least to the segments of the populace who still value stupid cuck stuff like “science” and “facts.”
To the lunatic, QAnon, crash-trains-into-hospital-ships crowd, however, he is just one more deep state heretic working to undermine the Emperor of Hemorrhoids, and thus he now requires his own security detail, to keep the mouth-breathing maniacs from murdering him.
Obviously, it’s a super-healthy society we’ve got here, where the deceitful buffoons racking up horrendous body counts with their lies get a pass, and the one dude who actually wants to save lives gets death threats. Also, we’re apparently crashing trains into hospital ships now, I don’t know if I mentioned that.
Dorito Mussolini has taken a lot of flak for mismanaging this crisis in ways that not even a reasonably well-domesticated cat would have fucked up, probably because tens, if not hundreds of thousands of us will die as a result of his mistakes, but if he were really as incompetent as the lamestream media says he is, would he have had the foresight to have the Secret Service place an emergency order for golf carts near one of his tacky-ass resorts?
This is a man who is totally prepared…for the first available moment to drop the facade that he gives half a passing fuck about anything but himself.
Republican governors must be running some kind of psychotic dead pool, where they’re competing with each other to see who can get the most citizens killed without angry mobs dragging them from their mansions.
And merely defying common sense by allowing public gatherings is low-hanging fruit in this contest; to excel, you have to demonstrate real commitment and creativity in your quest for the largest red state mass grave of all. James Woods is your host on…America’s Next Apocalyptic Wasteland Overlord!
Brian Kemp, still illegitimately squatting in Atlanta, really went the extra murderous mile, obscenely claiming that he allowed the coronavirus to dance merrily across the fields of Dixie, unimpeded by any filthy Yankee stay-the-fuck-home order, because he’s only just now learning that asymptomatic carriers can transmit the wee fucker.
Future gubernatorial debates in the Peach State will have to take a few steps back from intricate policy details, to questions like “do you pay attention to the world around you?”
Florida-Man-in-Chief Ron DeSantis remains a heavy favorite; honestly at this point he’s in contention for a whole paragraph in your grandkids’ history textbooks as an example of disastrously lethal leadership during a pandemic.
DeSantis finally issued a shelter-in-place order, with the addendum “…but only if you really wanna,” even going so far as to formally overrule any local governments who might want to, I dunno, keep people alive. What can I say, he sincerely believes in the religious liberty…to give your neighbors deadly diseases.
Just to add a personalized pinch of malice to that store-bought incompetence mix, Ron-Ron initially refused to allow any passengers from a nearby coronavirus-stricken cruise ship to disembark, before finally agreeing to take just the Floridians, inviting the rest of the passengers and crew to fuck off to sea in their death boat. Remember, you (almost) can’t spell dysentery without DeSantis!**
Iowa’s Kim Reynolds made a surprising late surge in the race, as one of the last remaining governors refusing to issue a shelter-in-place order, additionally suggesting that perhaps it is Anthony Fauci who is a dumb-dumb who does not brain good, while Kim Reynolds is the genius who knows all the things and maybe she should be the doctor and no, you can’t stack those corpses in her office, why would you even ask?
I dunno, maybe these blood-drenched idiots believe that if enough of their citizens die off, the general electorate won’t be large enough to call a quorum come reelection time? You know, the whole “science is a tool Democrats use to manipulate you” horseshit was one thing when it was a cynical control system deployed by wealthy Republican elites to keep their base angry, stupid, and engaged, but now that it’s trickled down into the actual belief systems of their elected officials, it’s getting people killed. And their brainwashed dolt voters will STILL stick around because of shit like the War on Xmas.
(By the way, even if the COVID-19 outbreak lasts all year, we’re not canceling the War on Xmas. I don’t care if I get sick; this year, Santa dies.)
We saw the inevitable flip side of the sociopathic coin that led Tangerine Idi Amin to pardon serial killer Eddie Gallagher, with the firing of Capt. Brett Crozier, commander of the USS Theodore Roosevelt, for (checks notes) protecting the lives of the sailors serving under him.
See, with the coronavirus tearing through his ship, Crozier committed the unforgivable sin of sending a letter asking for help rather than sitting quietly in his floating plague pit like a good little boy. Odd, isn’t it, that the Treasonweasel Administration’s policy of punishing whistleblowers, rather than those whose incompetence or malfeasance necessitated whistleblowing in the first place, has failed to produce functional government?
Having delegated crucial excuse-making authority to his dipshit son-in-law, Fat Q*Bert suddenly found himself with a bunch of time on his (tiny, inadequate) hands, so he grabbed the only crayon in the Resolute desk he hadn’t eaten yet, and wrote Chuck Schumer a little letter. Boy, there’s one to hang above the crapper in the Trump Library, right? He’s not even good at playground insults, y’know? It’s like watching the soft suburban kids I grew up with try to battle rap.
Well, Shart Garfunkel’s approval rating has reached 100%…among novel coronaviruses! How can they not love him, after all he’s done to spread them through the American populace? It seems like every day brings fresh news of the breakdown of the pandemic detection-and-fighting infrastructure caused by the Clowncar Full of Rectums squatting in the White House, from ending an early-warning program aimed specifically at coronaviruses, to failing to do maintenance on ventilators in the stockpile. Outside of bombing hospitals, could he have possibly rolled out a bigger, fatter, welcome mat for this thing?
Well, the CDC finally recommended that all Americans wear masks when going out in public, proving once again that I’m a goddamn trendsetter. Oh, it’s supposed to cover your mouth? But then I couldn’t drink beer. Hey, that reminds me, I have, um, “work” to do, so I’ve gotta sign off now. Stay safe out there, friends.
*Please do not do this.
**Yeah, that one doesn’t really work, does it? But I kept it in anyway. If you don’t like it, start your own fuckin’ blog.