Oh, the Sharts You Can Shart, and Other Cancelled

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Oh, the Sharts You Can Shart, and Other Cancelled Dr. Seuss Books

Friday, March 5th, 2021

by Shower Cap | American Madness Journal | 2 comments

showercapblog.com/oh-the-sharts-you-can-shart-and-other-cancelled-dr-seuss-books/

Look, I certainly appreciate that the poo-flinging howler monkeys are no longer in charge. And I realize that it is not reasonable at this relatively early point in time to expect a political environment in which zero poo is flung at me by zero howler monkeys, but can we maybe have one week without poo, so we can like, wear our nice clothes for once, and then next week the monkeys can fling twice as much? No? Well I thought I’d ask.

The feral assclown clambake known as CPAC came and went, headlined by Shart Garfunkel’s grand return to the national stage, during which he was barely capable of stumbling through a feeble teleprompter speech, sleepily working his way through the well-worn Time/Life playlist of his greatest grievance hits, like some sort of bloviating, deposed autocrat version of Rick Springfield, opening for Robert Mugabe on the state fair circuit.

And y’know what? It’s already been forgotten, and Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot just waddled his powerless, Twitterless (but I repeat myself) ass back down to the golf course. That national anthem defiler made a bigger impression, honestly.

But hey, if Lindsey Graham and his crew think there’s nothing more important than genuflecting before this half-flushed bowel evacuation, it just gives the Biden Administration a bigger spotlight to shine on their increasingly effective vaccine rollout, so go hog wild, campers.

Speaking of wild hogs, Paul Gosar swung straight to CPAC from a convention openly and unapologetically espousing white nationalism, without so much as dropping his robe off at the dry cleaners on the way, and not one of his caucusmates could muster even a half-assed “hey, cut that Nazi shit out, Paul” statement.

In fairness, it was difficult to hear the GOP’s Gosar silence over their total absence of condemnation of Madison “Spring Break at Hitler Beach” Cawthorn, following two newly published investigations into his past, which turned up multiple accusations of sexual misconduct on top of a largely fabricated biography.

Then there’s Dr. Ronny Jackson, who, surprise surprise, turned out to be even scuzzier than we initially believed, but that’s ok, the Children of the Candy Corn elected him to the U.S. Congress anyway, because he lied about their Turd Emperor’s weight that one time. Cool party y’all got there.

You want to scream, “these are profoundly immoral people who are clearly unfit for office” and Republicans are all “well yeah, that’s kind of our entire thing now” and you go “man, couldn’t y’all have picked a less shitty thing, like maybe a really elaborate secret handshake” and they say “well we are thinking about adding armbands.”

FBI Director Christopher Wray, during a hearing on the Capitol Riot Which is Clearly Much Less Important Than This Dr. Seuss Crap, yet again debunked Cult45’s favorite new conspiracy theory, that said riot was the work of antifa in disguise. Y’know, if these nutjobs were right, antifa could totally rebrand as an acting school, because some of these folks bring a nigh-Day-Lewisian level of commitment to their roles.

Obviously, Wray’s unambiguous statements on the matter are only further proof that he is a deep state NeverTrump MS-13 lizard person himself, and when President Crotchrot is inaugurated for his second term, the FBI, under the direction of Matt Gaetz or Marjorie Taylor Greene or maybe just the soggy sweat sock next to Gym Jordan’s bed, will replace the entire agency’s corrupted workforce with 22 Proud Boys and a meth lab.

Oddly, that inauguration did not take place on March 4th, despite the wild-eyed certitude of QAnon deadenders. Ah well. They don’t seem to be tired of losing, and lord knows I’m always down to chug another pint of their saltiest tears, so let’s reschedule for sometime this summer, says I.

…should we give MAGA nation a collective head pat for getting through this latest promised rapture without building any gallows or storming anything? I’m a big believer in rewarding good behavior, but I confess I’m worried about ticks.

The feds are also looking into communications between the January 6th rioters and members of Congress, in case you were wondering why Josh Hawley got all sweaty n’ fidgety when Wray started talking about using cell phone data to investigate the insurrectionists.

You would think Governor Greg Abbott’s ravenous thirst for Texan blood would be sated by now, but no, he’s recklessly reversed his state’s coronavirus restrictions, taking a victory lap well short of the finish line, oh, if only some enterprising Greek fableist had thought to address such conduct.

Anyway, people will die because of this appalling decision, but I feel like that’s a baked-in cost Republican voters accept nowadays, being a death cult and all.

Joe Biden referred to Abbott’s homicidal madness as “Neanderthal thinking,” leading to the sort of performative demonstrations of faux outrage that are surely the whole reason God made Marco Rubio.

I’m starting to worry some of these folks might be overworked; between screaming about potato toys and children’s books and now this…there are only so many hours in a day for high-decibel gaslighting circle jerks, y’know.

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