The Disruption of Orange Caligula

Despite the fact that he has failed at pretty much every endeavor he's set his tiny hands to, the current illegitimate occupant of the White House has succeeded spectacularly at one thing: absolutely monopolizing the entire "fake news" cycle—that he so loathes—24/7.

Even yesterday, as nature was putting on one of the most awe-inspiring spectacles imaginable, the shitgibbon still managed—through his own blatantly willful stupidity (as I predicted), made it all about him.

I mean seriously. If someone in a lab coat told the idiot not to touch a hot stove, I'm sure he'd think, "No one can tell me what to do…especially some scientist."

And we saw that yesterday.

And now he's flying into Phoenix to hold a "rally." I guess widdle Donny's ego needs to be stroked after the last couple weeks. Oh hell, after the last eight months. Is it possible that it's finally pushing through his thick, malignantly narcissistic skull that except for his knuckle-dragging, basement-dwelling base, everyone is coming to hate him?

All I know is that this Phoenix trip is going to be a shit show. Both sides are planning on infiltrating the other to cause trouble. Supposedly the anti-Trumpers are buying up tickets and will be staging a mass walk-out the moment the tiny-fisted ferret-wearing shitgibbon starts blathering incoherently. In other words, the moment he starts speaking.

Meanwhile, the Trumpanzees are openly advertising for actors (preferably of color) to pose as anti-Trump protestors (at $10/hour) to cause trouble so Dear Leader can claim with his trademark smirk, "See, both sides are violent!"

My employer has taken note of this gathering tsunami of stupid about to descent upon the city. I work about two blocks from the state capitol building, and yesterday we received a call and email from our supervisor:

As a follow-up to this morning's Deputy Director's meeting, here is guidance regarding tomorrow for our employees specifically in the Capitol Complex/Campus, and Phoenix Metro areas. For employee safety, we are making the following options available for Division Directors to use based on your discretion and individual business needs:

If employees are non-essential (as deemed per individual Division Directors) and have the ability to telecommute, the recommendation is to have them do so. Employees are not required to physically come to the Capitol Complex/Campus/Phoenix Metro if they are not needed. However, if they do, then we'd like them to leave the area no later than 1 p.m. as there are reports of large protests, not to mention traffic congestion in preparation for the arrival and event.

Additionally, all facilities in the area locked down at 1 p.m. to preclude any general public entry and for the safety of our employees.

Only the senior tech at my facility will be on site; myself and my other colleague were requested to telecommute. One of the perks of being a contract employee, however, is that I'm not trusted with the keys to the remote access kingdom. Asked what to do about this, my supervisor replied, "Put down 8 hours on your time sheet and enjoy your day off."

This actually works out well, because I was already planning on calling out today anyway. Two weeks into the new school year, Ben has already brought home—and shared—the first incident of the upper respiratory creeping crud. He started exhibiting symptoms last Friday, and I knew I'd be feeling it within 48 hours. Sure enough, it started to hit shortly after I got finished putting the new bed frame together (another story for another time) on Sunday. By the time I left work yesterday my throat was on fire, and this morning—after a horrible night's sleep—I can tell it's already moving down into my chest. I'm hoping to ward off full-blown bronchitis by hitting it hard with Mucinex to keep the sludge flowing, but I know how this typically goes, and I will undoubtedly be making an appointment with my Primary Care doctor by week's end.

And now I'm going back to bed.