Wait, Not All the News is Soul-Crushingly Horrifyi
Post# of 123672
(Total Views: 137)
Posted On: 01/22/2021 11:24:15 PM
Re: Goodspeed65 #57871
Wait, Not All the News is Soul-Crushingly Horrifying, What the Fuck is Going On?
Friday, January 22nd, 2021
by Shower Cap | American Madness Journal | 0 comments
http://showercapblog.com/wait-not-all-the-new...-going-on/
While shit remains generally cray, it must be said shit is substantially less cray than at any point in recent memory, and with numerous decrayification initiatives already underway, and new ones launching all the time, we may yet live to see the day when shit is merely endearingly eccentric. For now, the news:
Well, for the first time in four years, the President of the United States isn’t a resentment-driven bigot manchild with a stale, maggot-chewed raisin for a brain*, and the Vice President isn’t afraid to be alone in a room with a member of a different gender, and malignant cable news pundits are no longer setting federal policy, and I can’t speak for y’all, but personally, I’ve spent the last few days experiencing a degree of exuberant bliss seldom witnessed outside shampoo commercials.
Joe n’ Kamala rolled up their freshly-inaugurated sleeves and got straight to work, cuz the Augean stables ain’t gonna clean themselves, folks. Stephen Miller’s pained shriek shattered windows for miles in every direction as the new administration announced a 100-day pause on most deportations, and the end of Big Stupid Wall construction.
New oil and gas leases/drilling permits on U.S. lands and waters have also been paused, and the unceasing fire hose of fascist disinformation has finally, finally been shut off in the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room. This paragraph contains more good news than any six blogs I have written to date.
We’ve rejoined the World Health Organization and the Paris Climate Agreement and I think Luxembourg is willing to receive our diplomats again. Don’t tell Mike Pompeo, I wouldn’t want to interrupt his “swagger” time, when he dresses up in costumes and goose-steps around the backyard.
Reviews have not been universally positive, of course. The novel coronavirus which causes Covid-19 is reportedly incensed that the Biden Administration is rezoning the pandemic’s playground, which before Wednesday stretched, unobstructed, from sea to shining fucking sea.
Still, how can you look at the dog-tired-yet-joyful relief on Dr. Fauci’s face and not share his optimism that, after months of a death cult’s mad mismanagement, we’re finally on track to get this shit under control?
Biden’s inaugural speech was lovely and inspiring and unifying, but science has yet to discover any substance or energy 21st century conservatives can’t wring victimhood from, and this was no exception. Joe was all, “White supremacists are bad! Terrorists are bad!” and Republicans were all, “Stop saying mean things about us,” and we went, “A-HA, you’re telling on yourselves,” and honestly, Rand Paul’s probably arguing in caucus meetings that it’d simplify things if they’d all just put on the damn hoods and be done it.
Meanwhile, there is no joy in BrainwashedDipshitRubeville , mighty Q has struck out. Again. Just like literally every single other time that demented loser cult promised anything at all, from mass arrests of child-trafficking liberal satanists to a coupon for a free soft drink with qualifying chalupa purchase.
I’m told this experience has been quite traumatic for some of these creeps, to which I say, “Fuck you, when I found out the Easter Bunny was my dad, I got over it in about 40 seconds, and I was five.”
Speaking of the pathetic mewling of vanquished deadbeats, it appears the Proud Boys are throwing their loudest shitfit since Mom announced they’d have to pay for their own Hot Pockets and Capri Suns from now on, because Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot left them to rot in prison while merrily dispensing pardon after pardon for his rich chums.
Golly, what do you do when your Turd Emperor turns out to be just another run-of-the-mill normie cuck? I guess you could try getting a life, but I imagine one doesn’t label oneself a “proud” “boy” unless that particular ship sailed long ago.
Seems the Frothing HateYokel Caucus figures that “two weeks after we incited a white supremacist mob to storm this very building in search of Democrats to murder” is the appropriate moment in time to attempt to smuggle firearms onto the House floor.
Look, Congressman Harris, it’s members of YOUR party who stand credibly accused of collaborating with bloodthirsty insurrectionists, so you’re going to need to figure out some way to manage whatever fears you have of Steny Hoyer tackling you without your precious weenie substitute.
Meanwhile, Marjorie Taylor Greene, freshly revealed as both a Sandy Hook AND 9/11 truther, in addition to her previously-disclosed delusions, has embarked on a fool’s quest** to impeach Joe Biden over crimes alleged by the elves that live in the fillings of her teeth. No, I don’t think John Boehner regrets retiring, why do you ask?
Mitch McConnell, never comfortable in the role of lawmaker, returned to his more familiar post as the fossilized mammoth turd obstructing the road to progress.
Still, Wrinkly Gamera’s early demand, that Senate Dems unilaterally disarm, and abandon the threat to nuke the filibuster before a single legislative battle has even taken shape, has been rebuffed by shiny new Senate Majority Leader Chuck “I Am Unwilling to Publicly Reveal How Many Fucks I Have Left to Give at This Time” Schumer.
I see the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus funneled millions of dollars, through shadowy shell companies, to many of the very seditionist turdnozzles who organized the terrorist attack on the Capitol earlier this month. Before long, we’re gonna find out Eric n’ Junior were down in that crowd, passing out meth and zip ties, aren’t we?
And as for Hairplug Himmler, so recently the cancer gnawing away at our minds and our hearts and our souls every motherfucking minute of every goddamn day, well, he’s…gone. Can’t even tweet.
I confess, while I’d long fantasized about the shackles snapping into place around those tiny, inadequate wrists the very moment Smilin’ Joe finished his oath, this is even better; diminished to nigh-nonexistence by his doomed criminal efforts to overturn his landslide defeat, Little Donnie One-Term slunk away to Marm-a-Lago, barely noticed, following an early morning sendoff attended by his loser family and about half a dozen of the clingiest remaining Trumpworld dingleberries, those lacking the brains (or, more likely, the options) to jump off the swiftly sinking Shartanic. Nowhere to hide from the loserstink he emits as though he were comprised of pure, radioactive Losernium. Perfect.
As expected, he issued a final round of largely appalling pardons, really rubbin’ the founding fathers’ noses in the powers they handed him. (In all fairness, boys, while I’m generally a fan of your Constitution, it appears y’all left some shit out.)
He also signed one last executive order, undoing his own earlier EO, establishing lobbying limitations and other ethics rules for his appointees, and god only knows why I’m writing this blog instead of sending Nigerian Prince emails to the drooling marks who actually fell for that “drain the swamp” shit.
So, a lot of folks have been asking what the big change in management means for Shower Cap’s Blog, and…the truth is, I’m not sure.
Trumpism clearly isn’t going anywhere, as the poo-flinging asylum Kevin McCarthy calls his caucus clearly demonstrates, so I imagine I’ll still have plenty to write about, but…maybe not quite as frequently as in the days of the Turd Reich. I kind of assume that as normalcy takes hold of the federal government, the ol’ Cap Signal (just a regular spotlight, but you hold a bottle of MGD in front of it) may sit idle for days at a time.
So maybe these posts will become a little less frequent. Once a week seems likely, but we’ll see how the headlines shake out. I’m gonna play it by ear for now.
Sign up for updates on the main page, follow @CapShower on Twitter, and we’ll figure it out. You certainly haven’t heard the last of me, and hey, just as my latest comic book, MINE, works its way through our poor, beleaguered postal system, work has begun on a new project, which looks to be extra fun for an audience of dedicated Resisters.
More on that soon. For now, stay safe out there, and why not take this weekend to celebrate our victory in the 2020 election for the 842nd time?
*Do maggots eat raisins? Nobody fact-check my shit, okay?
**No other kind is available to her, for obvious reasons.
Friday, January 22nd, 2021
by Shower Cap | American Madness Journal | 0 comments
http://showercapblog.com/wait-not-all-the-new...-going-on/
While shit remains generally cray, it must be said shit is substantially less cray than at any point in recent memory, and with numerous decrayification initiatives already underway, and new ones launching all the time, we may yet live to see the day when shit is merely endearingly eccentric. For now, the news:
Well, for the first time in four years, the President of the United States isn’t a resentment-driven bigot manchild with a stale, maggot-chewed raisin for a brain*, and the Vice President isn’t afraid to be alone in a room with a member of a different gender, and malignant cable news pundits are no longer setting federal policy, and I can’t speak for y’all, but personally, I’ve spent the last few days experiencing a degree of exuberant bliss seldom witnessed outside shampoo commercials.
Joe n’ Kamala rolled up their freshly-inaugurated sleeves and got straight to work, cuz the Augean stables ain’t gonna clean themselves, folks. Stephen Miller’s pained shriek shattered windows for miles in every direction as the new administration announced a 100-day pause on most deportations, and the end of Big Stupid Wall construction.
New oil and gas leases/drilling permits on U.S. lands and waters have also been paused, and the unceasing fire hose of fascist disinformation has finally, finally been shut off in the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room. This paragraph contains more good news than any six blogs I have written to date.
We’ve rejoined the World Health Organization and the Paris Climate Agreement and I think Luxembourg is willing to receive our diplomats again. Don’t tell Mike Pompeo, I wouldn’t want to interrupt his “swagger” time, when he dresses up in costumes and goose-steps around the backyard.
Reviews have not been universally positive, of course. The novel coronavirus which causes Covid-19 is reportedly incensed that the Biden Administration is rezoning the pandemic’s playground, which before Wednesday stretched, unobstructed, from sea to shining fucking sea.
Still, how can you look at the dog-tired-yet-joyful relief on Dr. Fauci’s face and not share his optimism that, after months of a death cult’s mad mismanagement, we’re finally on track to get this shit under control?
Biden’s inaugural speech was lovely and inspiring and unifying, but science has yet to discover any substance or energy 21st century conservatives can’t wring victimhood from, and this was no exception. Joe was all, “White supremacists are bad! Terrorists are bad!” and Republicans were all, “Stop saying mean things about us,” and we went, “A-HA, you’re telling on yourselves,” and honestly, Rand Paul’s probably arguing in caucus meetings that it’d simplify things if they’d all just put on the damn hoods and be done it.
Meanwhile, there is no joy in BrainwashedDipshitRubeville , mighty Q has struck out. Again. Just like literally every single other time that demented loser cult promised anything at all, from mass arrests of child-trafficking liberal satanists to a coupon for a free soft drink with qualifying chalupa purchase.
I’m told this experience has been quite traumatic for some of these creeps, to which I say, “Fuck you, when I found out the Easter Bunny was my dad, I got over it in about 40 seconds, and I was five.”
Speaking of the pathetic mewling of vanquished deadbeats, it appears the Proud Boys are throwing their loudest shitfit since Mom announced they’d have to pay for their own Hot Pockets and Capri Suns from now on, because Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot left them to rot in prison while merrily dispensing pardon after pardon for his rich chums.
Golly, what do you do when your Turd Emperor turns out to be just another run-of-the-mill normie cuck? I guess you could try getting a life, but I imagine one doesn’t label oneself a “proud” “boy” unless that particular ship sailed long ago.
Seems the Frothing HateYokel Caucus figures that “two weeks after we incited a white supremacist mob to storm this very building in search of Democrats to murder” is the appropriate moment in time to attempt to smuggle firearms onto the House floor.
Look, Congressman Harris, it’s members of YOUR party who stand credibly accused of collaborating with bloodthirsty insurrectionists, so you’re going to need to figure out some way to manage whatever fears you have of Steny Hoyer tackling you without your precious weenie substitute.
Meanwhile, Marjorie Taylor Greene, freshly revealed as both a Sandy Hook AND 9/11 truther, in addition to her previously-disclosed delusions, has embarked on a fool’s quest** to impeach Joe Biden over crimes alleged by the elves that live in the fillings of her teeth. No, I don’t think John Boehner regrets retiring, why do you ask?
Mitch McConnell, never comfortable in the role of lawmaker, returned to his more familiar post as the fossilized mammoth turd obstructing the road to progress.
Still, Wrinkly Gamera’s early demand, that Senate Dems unilaterally disarm, and abandon the threat to nuke the filibuster before a single legislative battle has even taken shape, has been rebuffed by shiny new Senate Majority Leader Chuck “I Am Unwilling to Publicly Reveal How Many Fucks I Have Left to Give at This Time” Schumer.
I see the Committee to Re-Elect the Taintfungus funneled millions of dollars, through shadowy shell companies, to many of the very seditionist turdnozzles who organized the terrorist attack on the Capitol earlier this month. Before long, we’re gonna find out Eric n’ Junior were down in that crowd, passing out meth and zip ties, aren’t we?
And as for Hairplug Himmler, so recently the cancer gnawing away at our minds and our hearts and our souls every motherfucking minute of every goddamn day, well, he’s…gone. Can’t even tweet.
I confess, while I’d long fantasized about the shackles snapping into place around those tiny, inadequate wrists the very moment Smilin’ Joe finished his oath, this is even better; diminished to nigh-nonexistence by his doomed criminal efforts to overturn his landslide defeat, Little Donnie One-Term slunk away to Marm-a-Lago, barely noticed, following an early morning sendoff attended by his loser family and about half a dozen of the clingiest remaining Trumpworld dingleberries, those lacking the brains (or, more likely, the options) to jump off the swiftly sinking Shartanic. Nowhere to hide from the loserstink he emits as though he were comprised of pure, radioactive Losernium. Perfect.
As expected, he issued a final round of largely appalling pardons, really rubbin’ the founding fathers’ noses in the powers they handed him. (In all fairness, boys, while I’m generally a fan of your Constitution, it appears y’all left some shit out.)
He also signed one last executive order, undoing his own earlier EO, establishing lobbying limitations and other ethics rules for his appointees, and god only knows why I’m writing this blog instead of sending Nigerian Prince emails to the drooling marks who actually fell for that “drain the swamp” shit.
So, a lot of folks have been asking what the big change in management means for Shower Cap’s Blog, and…the truth is, I’m not sure.
Trumpism clearly isn’t going anywhere, as the poo-flinging asylum Kevin McCarthy calls his caucus clearly demonstrates, so I imagine I’ll still have plenty to write about, but…maybe not quite as frequently as in the days of the Turd Reich. I kind of assume that as normalcy takes hold of the federal government, the ol’ Cap Signal (just a regular spotlight, but you hold a bottle of MGD in front of it) may sit idle for days at a time.
So maybe these posts will become a little less frequent. Once a week seems likely, but we’ll see how the headlines shake out. I’m gonna play it by ear for now.
Sign up for updates on the main page, follow @CapShower on Twitter, and we’ll figure it out. You certainly haven’t heard the last of me, and hey, just as my latest comic book, MINE, works its way through our poor, beleaguered postal system, work has begun on a new project, which looks to be extra fun for an audience of dedicated Resisters.
More on that soon. For now, stay safe out there, and why not take this weekend to celebrate our victory in the 2020 election for the 842nd time?
*Do maggots eat raisins? Nobody fact-check my shit, okay?
**No other kind is available to her, for obvious reasons.
(0)
(0)Scroll down for more posts ▼