If Moses Had Been This Bad at His Job, the Bible Would Be Shorter
Friday, February 9th, 2024
Poor Tucker Carlson flies all the way to Russia to jerk a murderous dictator off, and what thanks does he get?
https://showercapblog.com/category/american-madness-journal/
What an asparagus fart of a news cycle, right?
Republican special counsel delivers a sneak low blow to the job-creator guy, sending allllllllll the shitty little Cillizzas of the political media scurrying gleefully to and fro, to squawk their favorite squawk of all: the squawk of performative, self-congratulatory impartiality. While the adjudicated rapist plots and preens.
Makes your poor, tired, Democrat heart skip a beat, doesn’t it?
Flip a mismanaged pandemic and a crashed economy into one of the strongest recoveries on the dang planet, and still, some cry BRING BACK THE IDIOT NAZI RAPIST.
I remain optimistic that the electorate’ll get its shit together as it gets a better look at the ever-diminishing, rapist game show host and his legion of the resentful and subpar, but it probably wouldn’t hurt if we shifted into campaign mode.
Fortunately, there’s plenty to talk about. The Republican Party is, after all, a wet, sloppy wad of yammering dipshits, led by a rapist.
Mike Johnson enjoyed the Mosesest week of his speakership to date, leading his people to the promised land, where nary a footfall lands without finding a rake.
The House Republican Conference is like a Volkswagen Beetle crammed to bursting with the skeeviest clowns on the sex offender registry, careening end over end down a mountain made of turds. Honest to God, have you ever seen such bumbling, bungling, couch-humping fuck-ups in your entire life?
No one expects actual governance from these dorks anymore. That would be cruel. Like driving 219 cows onto the floor of the Berliner Philharmonie and demanding they play Tchaikovsky.
I’m really looking forward to the movie, where Charlton Heston forgets to count votes before marching into the Red Sea, and wackiness ensues.
See, Moses hatched a sad little plan, to sneak the Mayorkas impeachment vote through while one House Dem was in the hospital for a medical procedure, which is the sort of maneuver only the majorities with the very strongest mandates deploy, but they fucked it up, because they are fuck-ups.
(Psst, it was really th’DEEP STATE’S fault tho. Like always. Don’t let anybody tell ya Republicans’re responsible for their own fuck-ups.)
Anyway. Speaker-fer-now Johnson then immediately fucked up his Israel aid bill, too, before storming off the House floor, furiously flipping through the Acme catalogue in search of something else to blow up in his own face.
Strategically, blocking the impeachment may’ve been a mistake; I think America could’ve learned something important by watching Marjorie Taylor Greene shriek her way through the role of impeachment manager.
Marj lent her celebrity, and, dare I say, gravitas to Matt Gaetz’s resolution to officially proclaim Off-Brand Orbán stands six feet, three inches tall, weighs two hundred and fifteen pounds, could almost certainly correctly identify drawings of every animal that ever existed, I mean, not the weird, Australian ones, be resonable, BUT THE POINT IS he absolutely, positively, never insurrected, not even a little bit.
Except that one time, of course. You remember, the months-long conspiracy to overturn the election he lost? The one that climaxed in that laughable-but-undeniably-proto-fascist orgy of violence at the Capitol?
Speaking of proto-fascist violence, Hannity’s broadcasting right-wing vigilante attacks live on Fox now. I actually didn’t know about Curtis Sliwa, but he’ll fit right in. His cosplay brownshirt brigade’s uniforms certainly match the movement’s “aging loser” aesthetic.
Again, I don’t want it to sound like I’m asking for better Nazis, but I do resent the shabbiness of America’s rapist-worshipping, white nationalist throng.
Which brings us to the compromise border bill, which finally died in a pitiful spurt of ineptitude, obsequiousness, and blind, racist hate. Shoutout to Oklahoma Senator James Lankford, who apparently slept through the snake story, all that work just to get tossed to the mob as a race traitor.
Elsewhere on the death cult loyalty beat, Ronna CertainlynotRomney had not, at press time, been formally thrown under the bus, though she has graciously lain down under the bus’s rear left tire, to await word of her fate.
Meanwhile, JD Vance wants to amend the Constitution to allow Donald Trump to rape whoever he wants, a bold gambit in the competitive groveling league some affectionately refer to as the “veepstakes.” Your move, Elise.
Republicans’re burning books in campaign ads now, that’s healthy. “As the only candidate in the race to set a stack of LGBTQ books ablaze with a flamethrower, Valentina Gomez is the clear choice for Missouri Secretary of State,” said Nazis, and nobody else.
Probably doesn’t help to have Elon hurtling madly down his $44 billion rabbit hole, stuffing his cheeks with every red pill he encounters along the way, pimping Great Replacement Theory like some shitty, too-online Howard Hughes.
Poor Tucker Carlson flies all the way to Russia to jerk a murderous dictator off, and what thanks does he get? Smacked around right in front of whatever’s left of his audience. Heh.
I guess Ted Cruz is worried the revolution is gonna come for him next time he scampers off to Cancún while his constituents freeze to death, so he’s demanding taxpayer-funded, armed security to keep the filthy serfs away at the airport. Christ, what an asshole. The Cruz brand is…reliable.
The rapist finally agreed to debate Nikki Haley, bowing to her undeniable momentum following the Nevada Republican primary, where she managed to earn several votes against the widely expected winner: Not Nikki Haley.
Things mighta panned out differently if the early frontrunner, Not Ron DeSantis, hadn’t dropped out. The post-mortems on that splendiferous debacle are everything I hoped they’d be, tales of malicious cretins flushing immense piles of conservative donor cash away to throw the shittiest party in human history, a cotillion for a pouty, authoritarian dweeb.
What a bizarre, misguided endeavor. Did anyone consider themself, like, called to Ron DeSantis, I wonder? Did people meet and fall in love on that campaign, because I worry their kids’d have a hard time in life.
Oh, and Marianne Williamson dropped out, after losing a straw poll held at a Wendy’s in Topeka to Not Nikki Haley.
And a unanimous ruling against Donald Trump’s fabricated claims of total immunity surely earned a three-judge panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals a ticket to the work camp in the Reich to come.
But for now, the rule of law, though battered n’ bruised, holds the line. Which is good. More of that, please.
Gonna be some year, friends.
And to get through it, I am going to require…beer.
Friday, February 9th, 2024
Poor Tucker Carlson flies all the way to Russia to jerk a murderous dictator off, and what thanks does he get?
https://showercapblog.com/category/american-madness-journal/
What an asparagus fart of a news cycle, right?
Republican special counsel delivers a sneak low blow to the job-creator guy, sending allllllllll the shitty little Cillizzas of the political media scurrying gleefully to and fro, to squawk their favorite squawk of all: the squawk of performative, self-congratulatory impartiality. While the adjudicated rapist plots and preens.
Makes your poor, tired, Democrat heart skip a beat, doesn’t it?
Flip a mismanaged pandemic and a crashed economy into one of the strongest recoveries on the dang planet, and still, some cry BRING BACK THE IDIOT NAZI RAPIST.
I remain optimistic that the electorate’ll get its shit together as it gets a better look at the ever-diminishing, rapist game show host and his legion of the resentful and subpar, but it probably wouldn’t hurt if we shifted into campaign mode.
Fortunately, there’s plenty to talk about. The Republican Party is, after all, a wet, sloppy wad of yammering dipshits, led by a rapist.
Mike Johnson enjoyed the Mosesest week of his speakership to date, leading his people to the promised land, where nary a footfall lands without finding a rake.
The House Republican Conference is like a Volkswagen Beetle crammed to bursting with the skeeviest clowns on the sex offender registry, careening end over end down a mountain made of turds. Honest to God, have you ever seen such bumbling, bungling, couch-humping fuck-ups in your entire life?
No one expects actual governance from these dorks anymore. That would be cruel. Like driving 219 cows onto the floor of the Berliner Philharmonie and demanding they play Tchaikovsky.
I’m really looking forward to the movie, where Charlton Heston forgets to count votes before marching into the Red Sea, and wackiness ensues.
See, Moses hatched a sad little plan, to sneak the Mayorkas impeachment vote through while one House Dem was in the hospital for a medical procedure, which is the sort of maneuver only the majorities with the very strongest mandates deploy, but they fucked it up, because they are fuck-ups.
(Psst, it was really th’DEEP STATE’S fault tho. Like always. Don’t let anybody tell ya Republicans’re responsible for their own fuck-ups.)
Anyway. Speaker-fer-now Johnson then immediately fucked up his Israel aid bill, too, before storming off the House floor, furiously flipping through the Acme catalogue in search of something else to blow up in his own face.
Strategically, blocking the impeachment may’ve been a mistake; I think America could’ve learned something important by watching Marjorie Taylor Greene shriek her way through the role of impeachment manager.
Marj lent her celebrity, and, dare I say, gravitas to Matt Gaetz’s resolution to officially proclaim Off-Brand Orbán stands six feet, three inches tall, weighs two hundred and fifteen pounds, could almost certainly correctly identify drawings of every animal that ever existed, I mean, not the weird, Australian ones, be resonable, BUT THE POINT IS he absolutely, positively, never insurrected, not even a little bit.
Except that one time, of course. You remember, the months-long conspiracy to overturn the election he lost? The one that climaxed in that laughable-but-undeniably-proto-fascist orgy of violence at the Capitol?
Speaking of proto-fascist violence, Hannity’s broadcasting right-wing vigilante attacks live on Fox now. I actually didn’t know about Curtis Sliwa, but he’ll fit right in. His cosplay brownshirt brigade’s uniforms certainly match the movement’s “aging loser” aesthetic.
Again, I don’t want it to sound like I’m asking for better Nazis, but I do resent the shabbiness of America’s rapist-worshipping, white nationalist throng.
Which brings us to the compromise border bill, which finally died in a pitiful spurt of ineptitude, obsequiousness, and blind, racist hate. Shoutout to Oklahoma Senator James Lankford, who apparently slept through the snake story, all that work just to get tossed to the mob as a race traitor.
Elsewhere on the death cult loyalty beat, Ronna CertainlynotRomney had not, at press time, been formally thrown under the bus, though she has graciously lain down under the bus’s rear left tire, to await word of her fate.
Meanwhile, JD Vance wants to amend the Constitution to allow Donald Trump to rape whoever he wants, a bold gambit in the competitive groveling league some affectionately refer to as the “veepstakes.” Your move, Elise.
Republicans’re burning books in campaign ads now, that’s healthy. “As the only candidate in the race to set a stack of LGBTQ books ablaze with a flamethrower, Valentina Gomez is the clear choice for Missouri Secretary of State,” said Nazis, and nobody else.
Probably doesn’t help to have Elon hurtling madly down his $44 billion rabbit hole, stuffing his cheeks with every red pill he encounters along the way, pimping Great Replacement Theory like some shitty, too-online Howard Hughes.
Poor Tucker Carlson flies all the way to Russia to jerk a murderous dictator off, and what thanks does he get? Smacked around right in front of whatever’s left of his audience. Heh.
I guess Ted Cruz is worried the revolution is gonna come for him next time he scampers off to Cancún while his constituents freeze to death, so he’s demanding taxpayer-funded, armed security to keep the filthy serfs away at the airport. Christ, what an asshole. The Cruz brand is…reliable.
The rapist finally agreed to debate Nikki Haley, bowing to her undeniable momentum following the Nevada Republican primary, where she managed to earn several votes against the widely expected winner: Not Nikki Haley.
Things mighta panned out differently if the early frontrunner, Not Ron DeSantis, hadn’t dropped out. The post-mortems on that splendiferous debacle are everything I hoped they’d be, tales of malicious cretins flushing immense piles of conservative donor cash away to throw the shittiest party in human history, a cotillion for a pouty, authoritarian dweeb.
What a bizarre, misguided endeavor. Did anyone consider themself, like, called to Ron DeSantis, I wonder? Did people meet and fall in love on that campaign, because I worry their kids’d have a hard time in life.
Oh, and Marianne Williamson dropped out, after losing a straw poll held at a Wendy’s in Topeka to Not Nikki Haley.
And a unanimous ruling against Donald Trump’s fabricated claims of total immunity surely earned a three-judge panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals a ticket to the work camp in the Reich to come.
But for now, the rule of law, though battered n’ bruised, holds the line. Which is good. More of that, please.
Gonna be some year, friends.
And to get through it, I am going to require…beer.
