Longtime readers will recall that in previous posts, I’ve described life under the Turd Reich as like being trapped in a dryer filled with hammers and badgers. After all these years, I stick to that assessment, and I have to admit I’m impressed at the way they keep cycling in fresh badgers. It never fucking stops, does it?
(As always, this post sprang to life on Cap’s blog site; showercapblog.com/...)
(And don’t forget the Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide!)
Fallout from the-troops-are-scum-unworthy-to-lick-my-boots-my-Daddy-was-rich-you-see-gate continues, as the Treasonweasel Administration struggles to deny the Most Believable Story in Human History. Like, if somebody leaked some shit about Donald Trump, say, helping a young person struggling with a disability, I mean, fuckin’ nobody would believe that, but what we’ve got here is “Known Shithead is Shithead in Extremely Familiar Fashion,” so you’re fucked, creeps.
Not that their efforts haven’t been adorable. When they brought back, of all the credibility-deficient stooge surrogates, Sarah Huckleberry Slanders, to belch up the official Indignant Denial, fuck, it was like watching Paula Deen scoldingly insist there’s no such thing as butter.
But better still was the Bonespur Buttplug’s own pathetic lie, that he called home to Melania, seeking comfort cuz he was just so gosh-darn sad to miss that cemetery visit, when Melania was right there with him on the whole fuckin’ trip. Perfection. That’s not only priceless insight into the frigid workings of our warped, Tennessee-Williams-by-way-of-David-Cronenberg first “family,” but also one of those useless, childish lies of his that completely exposes his sniveling apologists, with a light so clear and holy it could only have come from God’s own asshole.
Anyway, in his quest to demonstrate what a troop-lovin’, normal-human-emotion-havin’ fool he is, President Crotchrot decided to sic his frequently-violent harassment mob on philanthropist Laurene Powell Jobs, since she owns a stake in the Atlantic, which caused this whole kerfuffle in the first place, with their dastardly journalism. The fallback plan always seems to be stochastic terrorism, isn’t that weird? I think it’s weird.
Further attempts to prove his nigh-CareBearsian love of the military culminated in accusing the Pentagon of war-mongering and -profiteering and -othernaughtinesscausing, and if you need a chuckle, Team Turdmaggot is counting on this dolt’s rhetorical skillz to turn things around at the debates. If y’all wanna bring the Person Woman Man Camera TVdude to a Joe Biden fight, I’m not exactly gonna tackle you in the hallway, y’know?
It seems the Hairplug That Ate Decency isn’t quite done rubbing his seeping, malformed genitals all over the Presidential Medal of Freedom, which he has now chosen to award to Lou Holtz, who I am told is some sort of college sports coach, but who is receiving the nation’s highest civilian honor for impugning Joe Biden’s faith at the apocalyptic screechfest men call the Republican National Convention. Surely Kyle Rittenhouse can’t be far behind.
The novel coronavirus which causes COVID-19 still cannot believe its fucking luck in stumbling across the festering stewpot of freedumb-crazed selfishness that is 21st America. “After more than six months, they’re still gathering in ridiculously large groups for me to feast upon? I mean, I don’t get it, but I’m not gonna complain! It’s like a buffet that comes right to your house!” said the virus, later asking me for a list of upcoming Trump campaign events.
Because yeah, those reckless school reopenings have indeed led to outbreaks all over the country, exactly like the experts repeatedly told us they would. If this truly is, as the dumbest and loudest among us seem to believe, a massive long conperpetrated by a sinister cabal of doctors and scientists, let me just say David Mamet has really outdone himself with this one. The wingnut superspreader event in Sturgis, South Dakota was an inspired choice, if may say so, maestro.
A new study links that particular douchebag mass tantrum to nearly 20% of the new COVID-19 cases in the United States over the course of a month, a quarter of a million confirmed infections, because I guess a culture war is waged by dropping bombs on your own culture. The study estimates the ultimate public health cost of this play date for the emotionally stunted will be $12.2 billion, and even factoring in scalpers, that seems like a pretty hefty price tag for a motherfucking Smash Mouth concert.
It’s particularly obscene, watching South Dakota Governor Kristi Noem’s unseemly attempt to ride a wave of her constituents’ corpses to MAGA superstardom. I understand she plans to publish a memoir, “How to Get Ahead in a White Supremacist Death Cult,” in Spring 2021, a limited run printed entirely on the unused diary pages of coronavirus victims.
Because his campaign has devolved into a white nationalist shitfit, the Marmalade Shartcannon has proclaimed anti-racism to be un-American, and vowed to root it out wherever he can get his tiny, inadequate little hands around it. Whether it’s diversity training for federal employees or schools using the New York Times’ 1619 Project in their curriculum, he remains dedicated to stamping out progress in the name of the white and subpar, for he is their Piss-Coated Turd God.
That’s the closing message, by the way: nobody understands the plight of a shitty white guy better than Donald J. Trump. Hell, he needed every advantage the system could provide, plus a billionaire father to boot, just to keep from starving to death ten minutes after leaving home.
It’s truly a shame Gordon Lightfoot is no longer with us to immortalize the Dipshit MAGAt Boat Parade on Lake Travis in song. Now, we all enjoyed a richly-deserved laugh here, but seriously, when the universe keeps slapping you in the fucking face with metaphors this obvious, you HAVE to start noticing, don’t you? Like, as your craft sinks to the bottom of a lake because you have chosen to pass your time amongst the dangerously selfish and incompetent, surely it must occur to you, “holy crud, I’m in a loser cult and all these people are losers and cultists! I need to make some CHANGES!” Surely.
UPDATE: HEY GUESS WHAT? Gordon Lightfoot is alive. That’s actually wonderful news. I don’t know why I thought he was dead, but he’s not. It’s late, and I’m tired, and I’m not rewriting the paragraph, but I’ve never been happier to be wrong.
Enterprising journalists uncovered 2020’s breakout supervillain, Postmaster General Louis DeJoy’s origin story. Hard to believe that before becoming a key lackey in Tangerine Idi Amin’s attempted fascist takeover of the United States, he was merely a humble corrupt businessman, illegally reimbursing employees for the political donations he pressured them to make in the first place. This time next year, Louis is either gonna be behind bars, or giving seminars to the wealthy and unscrupulous on how to buy your way into the kakistocracy.
Won’t be difficult, Strawberry Shartcake certainly needs the cash. The Committee to Re-elect the Taintfungus seems to have burned through what was once a historic funding advantage with nothing to show for it except the ability to draw Joe Biden’s backside from memory, and everything on every Xmas list Brad Parscale e’er dared conjure in the darkest, most decadent recesses of his shitty, grifter mind.
So they’re retreating from the airwaves in must-win swing states, because obviously they don’t want to dip into the tens of millions in Cult45 donations set aside as Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet’s personal legal slush fund. You wish you could make them understand, don’t you? You are a piggy bank to him, nothing more. He would smash you to pieces for four bucks in change.
‘Course, maybe Donnie Two-Scoops will be able to pull himself out of the fiscal quicksand by selling desecrated, excuse me, “autographed” Bibles, designed to commemorate one of the nation’s darkest days, when the old bastard finally went full fascist and used uniformed agents to tear gas peaceful American protesters in Lafayette Square. $37,500 Trump-signed Bibles. I guarantee you Jared Kushner is starting to kick around branding concepts for the second term re-education camps.
Yeah, he’s 31 flavors of Biblical, that Donald Trump. If there’s a Nobel Prize for Christlike Behavior, surely he put the finishing touches on a winning candidacy when he golfed through yet another Sunday while hundreds of Americans died from his pandemic blundering, and for good measure, his shitbag campaign mocked Joe Biden for visiting the graveyard where Beau is buried.
Ummmm...what else? I see Wrinkly Gamera has a laughably inadequate coronavirus “relief” bill, because he still thinks the unemployed can be tricked into believing they have jobs. Live by the gaslight, die by the gaslight, motherfuckers.
Oh, now I see Bilious Bill Barr is trying to get the Department of Justice, you know, the one paid for by American taxpayers, to take over the defense in E. Jean Carroll’s defamation suit against the Rapist-in-Chief. I’m gonna need a tax refund of, ohhhhhh, I’d say just about every penny I’ve ever paid, William. This shit is not in the contract.
And a historic moment for Shower Cap’s Blog, as today’s piece was composed entirely while nude. There is, of course, absolutely no reason for me to tell you this, but I think it adds a little spice to the concluding paragraph, which has grown a bit stale of late. Plus, now you can read the whole thing all over again, and say to yourself, “Ah, I thought he sounded naked here.”
PS - If that’s not enough excitement for ya, check out what’s coming soon:
(so head on over to showercapblog.com to sign up for updates, so you can hear about Resistance Comics’ second offering! @CapShower on the Tweetymachine!)