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It’s certainly been a perfectly goddamned delightful week, hasn’t it?

One by one, the worst shitheads in the world lost their elections. Corruption-factory Ken Paxton. Political tourist Darline Graham. Barrel-bottom slimeball Vivek Ramaswamy. All gone fuckity-bye, replaced by actual, fundamentally decent people. 

Pinch us, we must be dreaming, am I right?

But one thing’s been missing, through this entire week. One familiar noise that’s been conspicuously absent from the national discourse. What could it be?

Oh right — it’s the tiresome sound of a colicky piss-baby with a freshly power-loaded diaper, bellyaching about a stolen election.

Does anybody really believe that this “Election” was honest. How could the Polls be so wrong??? Some early voting “dumps” were so large that it was impossible to win, no matter how many people went to vote.
It’s all about the machines, which are far more important than the voter! President DJT

Wait a minute. Hold on, what in the actual fuck is this half-baked, weak-tea bullshit?

Donny, you’ve had seven whole days to work yourself up into a thermonuclear lather, and this is the pathetic mewling you end up farting out? Come on. This is a stolen election, man — it’s right in your wheelhouse. This is the shit you live for.

Couldn’t you have put more effort into this post? Where’s the all-caps hysteria? Where are the multiple exclamation points? This is so low-energy. ‘Sleepy Dear Leader,’ is that what you want us to call you now? Bro, did you fall asleep in the middle of writing this? Did the Diaper Nurse have to finish it for you, and click ‘send’?

Where are the clownish misspellings? Remember “RIGGED AND STOLLEN” from 2020? Six years later, we’re still pissing ourselves with laughter at that dumbfuckery.

Come on, dude. Give us something to work with here. You didn’t even bother to thank us for our attention.

And why just one post? Why not a dozen, each one that much more hysterical than the last? Come on, bro. This is the best you can do? I’m so fucking disappointed in you, Donny. I expected so much better. We all did.

This is just sad.

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Actually, the best part of Donny’s post was the reaction from the rest of the world, which pretty much rose up as one to tell him to shut the fuck up.

Massachusetts Rep Jim McGovern, am I right?

This is getting so old, so fast. You lost. Get over it.

Rep McGovern is right. Donny lost, and he really needs to stick a fucking sock in it.

Governor Pritzker knows what I’m talking about.

The first stage of grief is denial, Donald.

Even MAGA’s reaction to Dear Leader’s post was muted. Everyone’s so tired of this shit. MAGA knows the election wasn’t RIGGED. Nor was it STOLLEN. They themselves voted for James Talarico and Gina Hinojosa and Annie Andrews and Abdul El-Sayed, and on and on.

No one has time for any of Donny’s clownfuckery right now. We all just want it to end. January 3rd can’t come fast enough.

Oh, but Donny wasn’t finished with us, after his whiny ‘stolen election’ post. He had lots more crazy left in the tank. At around four in the afternoon, he summoned the media for a hastily-thrown-together, unscheduled press conference starring none other than The Wrong Dana White™.

The premise of this slapdash dog-and-pony show? That Donny, irrepressible madcap scamp that he is, was just funning with us, when he claimed to have offered the job of White House Press Secretary to the Wrong Dana.

Get it? HA HA HA.

Dana White: “I don’t tell brothers ‘no’ to anything, I know. I didn’t say no. I literally— everybody— every media outlet was calling me, and I didn’t want to be disrespectful and say anything until he— he— he, uh, said something first, so—”

Donny: “We were having a very bad press day. And I said— I don’t know why— I thought of his name. Been my friend for a long time. I said, ‘you know, I think I’m going to get— DANA WHITE to be my new press secretary, sent it to a group of— of— press. And that was it. I sent it to them. And then, they wrote the story as if I wasn’t kidding. And you were INUNDATED and I was inundated. He was here anyway, with— we thought we would have a little fun, and we brought Dana in. He would be— fantastic.”

I have two words. Bull and shit.

Oh please. That’s not what happened at all. I will go to my final resting place convinced that the actual story played out as I wrote it up the other day. Someone in the White House suggested naming the actual trained media spokesperson Dana White be the new Press Sec, and dumb demented Donny got it wrong and mistakenly offered the job to his crony Dana White, the dude who arranges human cockfights for money.

That’s what happened, I’m sure of it. Donny doesn’t make jokes. He has no sense of humor. 

Yesterday’s unscheduled presser was a face-saving operation. The Wrong Dana™ had been in London, and they flew him all the way across the ocean so just he could stand at that podium and pretend to have been joking right along with Donny. An actual joke doesn’t need that much explaining attached to it.

The fact that Donny’s handlers put this much time and effort into denying that Donny was making a serious offer is all the proof you need that Donny was in fact making a serious offer.

And look at all the worthless scribblers of the corporate-controlled press, falling for it and laughing. How fucking embarrassing for everyone involved.

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But wait — the crazy lasted all the way into the evening.

Shortly after 9pm, a very surprised Mimi Geerges, the host of C-SPAN’s Washington Journal Primetime, announced to her audience, ‘it looks like we’ve got a call from the White House.’

What the hell? Did you notice that? As Geerges takes the call, a woman is heard giggling in the background, followed by the grating sound of Dear Leader’s voice.

What the fuck was going on? Were Donny and his diaper nurse tickling each other, going, ‘you call C-SPAN,’ ‘No, YOU call C-SPAN. TEE HEE HEE’? 

Where are the adults? What if it hadn’t been C-SPAN? What if Donny and Natty had been daring each other to phone in the nuclear launch codes? Don’t laugh, you know damned well it could happen. 

Donny then proceeds to ramble incoherently for eight entire minutes, his putrefying brain pinballing from immigration, to Piss-Drunk Pete Kegstand, to Venezuela, to Iran, and back and forth and back and forth. Mimi Geerges keeps trying to interject and steer the conversation, and he just barrels right over her. Eventually, Donny exhausts himself, and Geerges manages to get him off the phone.

It’s fucking batshit. What in god’s name is going on? Donny and Natty should not be left alone, unsupervised. Who knows what they’ll get up to next? 

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Let’s palate cleanse with some Thomas Massie.

Massie filed eight articles of impeachment against Piss-Drunk Pete Kegstand yesterday — and then he went out to do a victory lap on C-SPAN,

“The Secretary has scheduled his own press conference, that they’re going to let him deliver a rebuttal. And to that point, I hope he addresses the eight articles, and doesn’t get up and misquote the Bible in Quentin Tarantino fashion, and do some pull-ups, and, you know, call everybody fat and gay. I may have just given you half his speech, I don't know.”

Look, let’s be clear-eyed. Thomas Massie is not our friend. He’s against most of the things we’re for. The Heritage Foundation gives him a 96% rating.

But he loathes the same people we do — and he’s so fucking good at throwing shade, so let’s just enjoy that.

Reporter: “Have you spoken to Sen. McConnell about this effort?”

Massie: “I have not, but if it were possible to have a conversation with McConnell...”

Oh man. I only wish Mitch McConnell had been alive to hear himself dissed like that.

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this is going to be my closing message for the foreseeable future:

practice self-care. do what you need to do to keep sane. if that means you need to disengage with my daily posts for a while, I get it. this community of ours will still be here when you return.

to all the people who have signed on in the days since the election, welcome aboard. settle in as we all try to deal with the shitfuckery that’s ahead of us.

we are all in this together, and we are all here for each other.

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