…then we’d really be fucked!
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Oh HELL No!
I got this email today:
So why not just put money directly into his grift, amirite?
Do you honestly think a penny of this money is ever going to be distributed to anyone other than Donald J. Trump?
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And The Bullshit Continues
WHERE IS OUR BIG BEAUTIFUL HEADLINE?!
Folks, you can say what you want about Preznit Fuckwit, but you can’t deny that the dude is a bottomless well of super-awesome ideas.
Let’s threaten and alienate all our allies. Let’s throw Ukraine to the wolves, and give Putin everything he wants. Let’s bomb the shit out of Venezuelan fishermen.
Let’s allow masked federal thugs to roam the streets of our cities, and look the other way when they gun down anyone they want. Let’s smash half the White House to rubble, and put up a vulgar, heavily-militarized Epstein Dance Hall in its place. Let’s clownfuck ourselves into an unwinnable war that ends up making everything unaffordable.
Let’s encourage Americans to rat each other out for fun and profit.
Wait, what was that last one? Americans should do what?
Oh, you heard me right.
“So today, I’m thrilled to announce the— Fraud Whistle— Blower Incentive— Program. Fraud— Whistle— Blower Incentive Program. Annnnnnd— mark those words. Independent journalists and every— body and all Americans will now be able to go to the— fraud dot gov and report cases of corruption and theft of taxpayer dollars in their communities … if you turn somebody in and you find $1 billion, we’re giving a commission of 1%. That’s a lot of money,”
Really? We’re paying bounties on fraudsters now? Because I know a guy who sleep-farted his way through an entire trial, and then got convicted on 34 counts of fraud. He’s still walking the streets, and he’s still criming. Can I turn this narcoleptic fuckface in, and glom some reward?
Silly rabbit. The Donnyverse doesn’t intend for this new whistleblower thingumbob to be used against actual fraudsters — and certainly not against white people.
Here comes undead White House advisor Nosferatu McGoebbels, to explain that this is actually just another handy way for the administration to commit a racism against those they deem undesirable.
They came here from Somalia, they’re living here for a year or two, they say ‘I’m going to open up a fake daycare. I’ll tell Keith Ellison, I’ll tell Governor Walz, I’m taking care of 200 kids. Send me a check for thirty million dollars. What do they do? They buy Mercedes, they buy BMWs. They buy a mansion, they buy a nice house. All their kids fly first class all over the world. They are living the high life.”
Wait, is that true? Let’s do a quick fact check:
Of course this isn’t happening. It’s a fever-swamp fairy tale cooked up by white supremacists.
The reality is that every accusation Nosferatu just shat our of his undead mouth is actually being perpetrated right now by Preznit Fuckwit’s two felonious failsons — Cokey McSniffles, and the dumb one.
A report released Thursday details how the family of President Donald Trump “pocketed more than $2.9 billion”—including “in cash and gifts from crypto ventures, legal settlements, a luxury jet from a foreign government, and corporate deals”—while Republican cuts to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program left millions of Americans without critical food aid.
Can I turn them in? Pretty please, can I?
Pick a lane, racists — are these Somalis all on welfare, or are they all buying luxury items? Because — spoiler alert — it can’t be both.
Folks, this is straight up Nazi bullshit — because you know who else used to pay people to rat out the undesirables in their midst, don’t you? Of course you do.
“The Dutch Department,” as the Nazis called it, was also known as the “Colonne Henneicke,” after its leader, Wim Henneicke. He had been trafficking in stolen Jewish property until the Nazis began offering cash for Jewish prisoners.
Workers were paid about 15 guilders a week, or $75 at today’s exchange rate, plus 7.50 guilders or $37.50 per captured Jew, van Liempt writes.
Pretty weird how every atrocity this administration is committing right now, was first dreamed up by the Nazis, 90 years ago. What a bizarre set of coincidences, am I right?
There was a time when arriving at our shores with five dollars in your pocket, and then going on to make a success of yourself was called ‘living the American dream.’
We celebrated such people, and wrote books and made movies about them.
Okay, that’s probably not the best example, but you get my drift.
The American dream isn’t a thing any more. The oligarchy doesn’t want some nasty immigrant coming here and succeeding — and certainly not any non-white immigrant. They want to keep all that money for themselves. (They made an exception for the Space Nazi — because, as a white child of privilege, he was already one of them.)
Look, let’s run some numbers. The entire number of Somalis in Minnesota is thought to be around a hundred thousand. Of that hundred grand, 85 people of Somali descent have charged with fraud. Of that 85, around 60 have been convicted and sent to prison.
Sixty out of a hundred thousand is 0.06 percent — a rounding error away from zero.
Fraud in Minnesota is almost nonexistent, and the culprits have already been rounded up and dealt with — but racist shit-kadoodles like Nosferatu McGoebbels want you to believe that every Somali is guilty of something, and that the America people won’t be safe until every single one of them has been deported to who the fuck even cares, just get them out of Dear Leader’s sight.
All this is by design. It’s a distraction from the real problem in our country.
‘Keep the people ignorant and fighting each other, and they won’t notice the plutocrats picking their pockets’ is right there on page one of the oligarch’s playbook.
And MAGA falls for this shit, every time — because stupid doesn’t magically cure itself overnight.
Now, listen — I’m not saying that folks should prank this new anti-fraud hotline, but I’m not saying they shouldn’t.
Here’s a fun thing that We the People did back in 2023.
You see, the government of Missouri had themselves a bright idea: transgendered people aren’t being persecuted enough, so let’s make it easier to single them out for abuse. And so they created a web form where concerned people complete fucking busybodies could rat on their neighbors.
Decent citizens everywhere had a better idea: let’s fuck this war crime right into the ground — and so they flooded the hotline with bogus reports.
It was fucking glorious.
Pranksters flooded the snitch form with so much hilarious garbage that it had to be shut down.
Now, I know what you’re going to say next. “But Uncle Jeff, you’ve already written over eleven hundred words, and you still haven’t told us what we really want to know: at any point during yesterday’s Oval Bordello dog-and-pony show, did Donny melt down at a reporter’s question and throw an infantile shit-fit?”
Do you even have to ask? Of fucking course he did.
“Listen to you. Hey. Hey! I’m not— You better, you better — I don’t know the hell you are, but you better be careful.”
And then the colicky piss-baby did it a second time.
“Wait. Wait. Quiet. QUIET! What’s wrong with you? Are you a sick person? I actually think there’s something wrong with you.”
What a fucking child. Tell me again how women don’t have the temperament to be president. That’s such a cool story.
Donny actually did it a third time, but some idiot forgot to bookmark it last night when he was making notes for this post.
Dear Leader held another hate-rally last night, in who the fuck even cares where. The demented old shitbag rambled incoherently for a merciless hour and fifty-four minutes. I’m not even going to bother to write about it. It was virtually identical to all the hate-rallies I’ve been covering for weeks now. Same shit, different day.
Let me just leave you with this one clip from last night.
“So, he’s over here, I’m over here. And— I’m studying his body. I’ve never studied the body of a man before. It’s not my thing. Nothing wrong with it, of course. Heh heh. Nothing— I always proceed it by saying ‘nothing wrong.’ But it’s never been my thing, to be honest with you. But I looked at his ass. And then I looked at his legs. And I said it might— and I said, ‘his ass is shit.’ It’s like— it’s like a pile of muscle. Then I looked at his legs. And I said, ‘man, his feet are big.’ Then I looked at his shoulders and I tapped him on the shoulder, and it actually hurt my hand. It was like a piece of steel.”
You have to love that Donny stuck a ‘not that there’s anything wrong with that’ in there. No, of course not.
Congratulations, MAGA. You elected a gay president — and you didn’t even know it.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
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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Tick, Tock…
JoJo’s Got Such A Way With Words, Don’t You Think?
Late last night, Mr. “Russia, Russia, Russia” signed an executive order waiving sanctions against Vladimir Putin, because this perfidious, Putin-fluffing pile of presidential pork fat couldn’t bear the thought of his favorite murderous dictator suffering so much as a financial fucking inconvenience while his military continues slaughtering Ukrainians.
So he waited until Friday night, when Americans were busy recovering from another week of surviving his shitshow, and quietly loosened the financial screws on his Russian Master before scurrying back to his padded kennel to await further instructions.
Because Donald Trump has always been Vladimir Putin’s bitch.
And at this point, how much more fucking obvious does it have to get? We’ve been standing beneath a Russian sewage pipe for the better part of a decade, getting blasted in the face with industrial-grade excrement, and half the country is still squinting at the sky, asking whether anybody else thinks it smells funny.
Motherfucker, you’ve got a turd hanging off your eyebrow.
He’s the gimp from Pulp Fiction, except we’re all trapped in the basement with him, and this gelatinous, genuflecting cuck is sweating Sunny D through a latex onesie two sizes too small, packed in like kielbasa at a Lambeau tailgate, squeaking every time he bends and twirling in his Bedazzled ball gag like it’s prom night at the Moscow Marriott.
Welcome to Kneepad Diplomacy™, where the most powerful nation on Earth is being run into the ground by a Tang-glazed, tongue-lolling tuffet of treachery with a praise kink who’d trade the Statue of Liberty for a firm swat on the rump and a slab of chocolate cake the size of a hubcap.
He had American service members on their hands and knees in Alaska rolling out the welcome mat for his death-dealing, democracy-devouring despot, while that Crisco-cushioned quisling stood ready to have PROPERTY OF VLAD monogrammed on his kneeling pad.
That red carpet was foreplay, because this apricot ass-kisser isn’t even meeting Putin halfway; he’s crawling the entire fucking distance with American foreign policy between his teeth, stopping every few feet to check whether Daddy needs his slippers, another concession, perhaps a sovereign democracy diced into bite-sized pieces and served on a silver tray he licked clean himself, anything for a scratch behind the ears from the Botoxed little bastard holding his leash before retreating beneath the staircase to wait for somebody to tell him he’s been a very good boy.
And the evidence of this groveling, groaning, geopolitical degradation has been piling up for years, from Don Junior, that chinless, coke-eyed princeling of inherited privilege, bragging about Russian money to oligarchs circulating through Trump-branded properties like the guest list for a fucking money-laundering swingers’ convention, while the whole family developed a conveniently catastrophic case of selective Slavic amnesia.
This collared, capitulating little pay pig has spent decades glazing, glorifying, and giving Vladimir Putin the geopolitical equivalent of a complimentary rim job, and now the relationship has progressed to him telling Ukraine to stop hitting the Russian refineries helping bankroll the invasion that’s killing Ukrainian children.
Ukraine paused during a ceasefire Trump announced with the confidence of somebody who’d personally negotiated it with God, except Putin hadn’t agreed to jack shit, Russia kept bombing, and Zelenskyy resumed hitting the refineries, which, who the fuck could blame him? If somebody’s trying to kill your family, you hit them where it hurts.
And this Kremlin-coddling coward called it a disgrace, a real Emily Post moment from somebody scolding an invaded country for the brass-balled, bloody-minded gall of declining to die while Vladimir balances his books and bills the corpses.
But the same orange arsonist who helped send fuel prices soaring with his Iran war now wants to moonwalk out of the smoke clutching a Russian jerrycan like a carnival goldfish and pretend he’s rescuing American families from expensive diesel.
Spare me the steaming tanker truck of horseshit. None of this is about helping Americans here. It’s all about helping Vlad win over there.
And this obsequious, orange-hued oil fluffer is working the arrangement with both teeny-tiny hands wrapped around Vladimir’s Johnson, tongue poking out in concentration like a cake decorator piping the last buttercream rose onto a six-tier wedding cake, begging us to admire his energy policy.
Which makes the latest development in this grotesque geopolitical peep show especially revealing, because while Donnie Two Scoops was failing to persuade Zelenskyy to roll over like a good boy, multiple outlets traced the order to slow Ukraine’s military satellite service to the White House, which was interesting enough before the Telegraph reported that Elon Musk, our great white beluga cast as the dying E.T., had approached Trump with the idea and Trump agreed.
What did that conversation sound like? “Sir, Zelenskyy won’t stop bombing Vladimir’s refineries, but what if we slow down the technology Ukraine uses to stop Russian drones? Maybe a few more exploding apartment buildings will teach him to listen.”
And that’s how Ukrainian interceptors reportedly ended up struggling to chase Russian drones that could continue toward civilian neighborhoods like they’d made a fucking dinner reservation, while the machines trying to STOP them got sentenced to a timeout they never earned.
But after a night of carnage in Kyiv, Elon “Horses for Handjobs” Musk, that pallid, plutocratic pile of unseasoned poultry with a breeding fetish and a bank balance large enough to purchase his own applause, suddenly became terribly concerned about European customers.
European customers.
Jesus Christ. A city is being terrorized, and this profit-panicked purveyor of overpriced electric appliances is worried somebody in Düsseldorf might buy an Audi. What does a Ukrainian mother have to do to get your attention, asshole? Staple a canceled purchase order to her child’s fucking coat?
And did Musk want to punish Ukraine because it knocked out one of his Russian bot farms? Is that why he’s so obsessed with getting rid of Zelenskyy? Imagine spending billions buying yourself an audience only to discover somebody bombed the data center housing your fucking fan club.
But when the world started asking who’d been fucking with Ukraine’s defenses, suddenly nobody wanted credit. Musk pointed at Washington, Trump pointed at anybody but himself, and the two of them became the Spider-Man meme, except both Spider-Men were counterfeit, beer-bellied bastards outside the Times Square Olive Garden, hustling fentanyl to tourists between twenty-dollar photo ops and screaming about whose fucking shift it was.
And that’s when the belligerent bouffant with security clearance announced he didn’t know who’d given the order.
You don’t fucking KNOW?
He’d rather have us believe he’s not running his own administration than admit what agreeing to that slowdown would mean: the United States helping Putin kill Ukrainian women, children, and other civilians trying to survive in their own free country.
Can you imagine Biden giving that answer? Fox would interrupt its own interruption, and Hannity would need a fresh shirt and a priest. This is the “perfect phone call” all the fuck over again. Except worse.
And now His Flatulent Fraudulence insists Starlink is running perfectly normally, always has been, nothing to see here, while Zelenskyy says it STILL isn’t back to normal and Ukrainian tests across the European border show the connection working at speeds that cause it to cut out inside Ukraine.
What the fuck is that? A geographically selective nervous breakdown? Does the satellite recognize the Ukrainian border and develop performance anxiety?
Did these two evil idiots think they could pull the Airplane! routine, unplug the runway lights, plug them back in, and chirp “Just kidding!” while everybody struggles to land?
Oopsie! Did we interfere with your ability to stop explosives heading toward your children? Everybody relax! We plugged the fucking thing back in! Well, most of it. Actually, we never unplugged it. And if somebody did, nobody knows who!
So the United States bombed a school in Iran, and now we’re helping Putin bomb schools in Ukraine.
Is THIS what being “great again” looks like?
There is no “Russia hoax,” just a United States president serving Vladimir Putin’s interests while flag-fellating fuckwits defend him from the evidence of their own goddamn eyes.
And they’re counting on the rest of us being too busy surviving to notice, with your kid needing shoes, the insurance company denying the claim, the car making that noise again, and another national betrayal becoming something you’ll find the strength to think about somewhere between the third transfer and the fifth rendition of instrumental “Careless Whisper.”
They’re manufacturing the chaos and exploiting our exhaustion, because they don’t need our approval if they can make giving a shit one more thing Americans can’t afford.
And while our troops are dying in his illegal, unconstitutional, endless war with Iran, Trump claims he doesn’t “THINK” Russia or China are helping Tehran, despite American intelligence indicating otherwise.
That’s like me deciding I’m not a natural brunette because I prefer being blonde. Somebody tell my fucking roots. They keep rudely submitting evidence to the contrary.
But this cranial custard cup clarifies that even if they ARE helping, “it’s at a very low level.”
IF THEY ARE?!
You’re the commander in chief of the United States of America, you ambulatory mound of presidential pudding, not somebody divining national security intelligence from the sediment in his Diet Coke.
What constitutes an acceptable amount of help killing American troops? Does Putin get complimentary Pentagon coordinates after his third missile shipment, a commemorative challenge coin, and a voucher for two nights at Mar-a-Lago?
Nancy Pelosi said “all roads lead to Putin,” and she wasn’t guessing. She was reading the name engraved on his little leather collar.
And now we’re calling it “peace talks,” because the murderer apparently requires another financial inducement to stop murdering, while the country being invaded is supposed to offer up portions of itself like somebody carving the fucking Thanksgiving turkey.
Imagine marauders break into your house, kill your dog, kidnap your children, and start firing missiles into your kitchen, while Putin’s piss-yellow property manager steps over the wreckage and asks what YOU’RE prepared to concede.
Concede? Motherfucker, I LIVE HERE.
What do you offer? Alternate weekends with the refrigerator? Perhaps the burglars will let you keep the garage if you acknowledge their legitimate security concerns, while this bootlicking sack of sedition measures your living room for Putin’s sectional and explains that insisting the intruders leave makes YOU unreasonable.
It has never been about peace. It’s about giving Putin a piece of another country.
“Our country has to survive,” Zelenskyy says, having to remind the United States of America that his country’s continued existence isn’t an unreasonable fucking request.
Oh, how very far we have fallen.
And the red-white-and-brainless contingent tells us to “cry harder,” while I’d ask where the fuck Republicans in Congress are, but their heads are so far up their own asses they could check their prostates with their eyelashes, which must make reading the Constitution difficult, although I’m reasonably certain these craven, cringing, constitutionally constipated little courtiers would rather bend over the Resolute Desk and chirp “Yes, sir! May I have another?” than risk displeasing the spray-tanned submissive running their party.
Remember when we fought fascism?
We sent our men and boys across an ocean to liberate people living under tyranny, boys writing home about the lives they hoped to resume, reassuring mothers they were terrified they’d never see again, and now a five-time draft-dodging, bone-spurred coward expects us to admire his willingness to accommodate a dictator invading a European democracy.
We once sent Americans to help get other people off their knees. This servile sack of surrender wants us to join him on his, as though the flag that covered their coffins were another piece of fabric he could spread at Putin’s feet.
He can lower himself until his belt buckle scrapes the floor, crane his neck for a crumb of approval from a murderer who regards him as useful equipment, and spend whatever remains of his dignity begging for a biscuit he’s been trained not to reach for.
But he keeps reaching behind him for the rest of us, expecting an entire country to bend until we can no longer look the people we abandoned in the eye.
Fuck that. His submission does not come with OUR consent.
He’s convinced we’re too exhausted to care and too powerless to stop him, that traitorous, treacherous, treasonous, tyrant-teabagging toady, certain the American people will fold while he pawns off the birthright of an entire nation for another approving grunt from the Kremlin butcher.
But this nepo-baby beneficiary of inherited billions, this spectacularly incompetent casino-bankrupting bastard who somehow managed to lose money in a business where the fucking house always wins, is betting against the American people.
And once again, he’s betting wrong.
In the meantime, the question isn’t how far Donald Trump is willing to lower himself for Vladimir Putin.
The question is: How much of America does he think we’re willing to let him take down there with him?
Stay safe out there, stay strong, and stay connected to each other!
Continued radio silence from the bullies I will keep you updated, I promise!
💙 Jo
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Cruelty Is ALWAYS The Point
For We the People, life continues to totally fucking suck out of control.
Basic goods and services remain unaffordable. Inflation and unemployment are on the rise. Our food is unsafe to eat. Our government lies to us. Our once-staunch allies hate our guts, and openly mock us. Masked, trigger-happy federal thugs roam the streets of our cities. Our hallowed national monuments have been shuttered, or bulldozed to rubble.
Our detached, demented president has completely checked out of fixing any of this shit, preferring to focus on useless vanity projects in honor of his own crappy self.
But We the People are getting one very special thing, and it’s just for us. Know what that one thing is? Get ready for it: Public executions.
Yes, you heard me right. Public executions.
So, we’ve for that going for us. Which is nice.
Hegseth on Nidal Hasan: “He’s gonna get a firing squad of soldiers. As it should be. We’ll make sure that people are able to watch it. That it’s public. Because people need to understand that there’s serious consequences for these types of things.”
Seriously, what the damn?
Did you notice how completely fucking excited Piss-Drunk Pete was, in that clip? He was absolutely giddy with glee as he burbled away at a mile a minute about how the military was going to publicly kill shit out of someone. That’s insane. Nobody should be that happy about meting out death — and nobody who’s that over-the-moon about killing should be put in charge of the lives of others.
We may need our own What The Fuck Is Wrong With You Challenge™ just for Piss-Drunk Pete.
We’re going backwards as a country. The last public execution in the US was the hanging of some dude named Reiney Betha, on August 14, 1936. After that, states came to their senses, realized that kind of spectacle was barbaric, and stared passing laws against it.
And now, Piss-Drunk Pete wants to bring it back, because he thinks that shit’s awesome. As always with these fuckfaces, cruelty is the point.
Hey, you know what other country also does public executions? Iran. Isn’t Preznit Fuckwit always telling us how we’re more civilized than they are? That’s such a cute story, Donny, tell it again.
Oh, but at the same time we’re going backwards, we’re also going forwards. We’re bringing public executions into the twenty-first century. Check out this abomination.
The public will be able to watch the execution of a former US Army major by firing squad, US Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth has said.
A Defense Department official told the BBC the execution of Nidal Hasan, who shot dead 13 unarmed US soldiers at Fort Hood in 2009, would be livestreamed.
It is believed it would be the first public execution in the US in almost a century. The decision to livestream it is “unprecedented in the modern era” and “on uncertain legal terrain,” said John Mills, a lawyer who works with inmates sentenced to death.
Oh, come on. Are you fucking me?!
Who is this for? Who’s going to watch a livestream of someone getting firing-squadded to smithereens? Cultists? Psychopaths?
More importantly, who’s going to provide the livestream stream? Netflix? Amazon? Facebook? What corporation wants to be complicit in this barbarity? You’d hope the answer would be none of them, but I can think of a few tech bros who would be that horny to curry favor with Dear Leader, and volunteer to host that shit for free.
Is this who we want to be, as a nation? Do we really want to be known as the country that broadcasts state-sponsored death? Count me out. I want no part of this fuckery.
The civilized world, of course, is aghast that we would even consider turning an execution into a spectacle.
It’s so much fun being a rogue nation, isn’t it?
Ten days ago, the state of Tennessee tried to execute Christa Pike by lethal injection. If you’ve been following that story, you know that they fucked it up royally. Instead of dying, Pike spent hours moaning and crying in pain, and ended up in the hospital in a coma, with severe burns to her arms and shoulders.
Imagine if that shit-show had been livestreamed.
Maybe it should have been. Maybe the public outrage over that obscene level of cruelty would have started a real national conversation about the death penalty.
Now here’s something Dear Leader shat out onto his crappy app yesterday. It’s one of those posts that, when it shows up in your social feed, you go, ‘oh come on, that’s fake as fuck, not even Donny is that crazypants’ — but I shit you not, it’s real.
The White House considers anyone that uses the term, “Artificial Intelligence,” as opposed to the highly accepted new and more accurate term, “Super Intelligence,” THE ENEMY! President DONALD J. TRUMP
Who even talks like this? Just because we don’t agree on what to call the janky, six-fingered plagiarism robots, we’re now the all-caps ENEMY? How can any one person be that infantile?
Shit off, Donny.
I’m so tired of him. I’m so tired of the relentless dumbfuckery. I’m so tired of the bone-crushing stupidity, and the childish if-you-don’t-agree-with-me-you’re-a-poopy-head mentality.
And I’m fucking exhausted that there’s now an entire infrastructure devoted to making this utter failure feel good about his own shitty self.
Did you know that Donny was awarded another Emotional Support Trophy yesterday?
It’s true. Donny’s minders arranged to have some dog-and-show at the ridiculously-named ‘Donald J. Trump Institute of Peace,’ ostensibly so that Donny could dole out medals to the Space Nazi, and to other tech-bro cronies.
But Donny’s minders also did this: they took a genuine award that Donny’s uncle — the actual MIT professor, John G. Trump — had won in 1983, stuck it behind some chintzy gold frame, and with great fanfare, presented it to Donny, so that he could stand there, beaming, and pretend that he had somehow earned it all by his own Big Boy self.
Look at this preening asshole. He’s just so eternally embarrassing. Put that shit down, numb-nuts, you haven’t won anything.
And now, speaking of actual awards that Donny will never win—
Congratulations to our Hero of the Day: this year’s Nobel Peace Prize laureate Navi Pillay, whose very first public statement after winning the award was to joke about sharing it a notorious whiny piss-baby.
“Thank you very much. If you clap a little bit more, I may share this prize with Trump.”
Really weird how there’s currently no Truth Social post from Donny, congratulating Navi Pillay for winning. What’s up with that?
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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The Only Thing Donny Has Ever Been A Success At…
…is keeping us outraged.
Seriously, what is it going to take—what line needs to be crossed—to get this lunatic removed from office? Because it’s becoming increasingly obvious he has no intention of ever leaving voluntarily.
Hello, and welcome to another exciting episode of Donny Says Stupid Shit, the show where our Very Special President gets away with blurting out the kind of crazypants dumbfuckery that would immediately end the political career of any mere mortal who said the same thing.
“And again, remember. With the war, it’s just artificial. It’s a little bit high. It’s a small price to pay. for keeping the world safe. For keeping our country safe. They could take out a city. Let ’em take— let it— let ’em take out Los Angeles. Let ’em take our San Diego. That’s— this is a very small price to pay.”
Wait a minute — did this depraved shithead just give Iran permission to nuke a couple of our cities? Did he actually call such an act ‘a very small price to pay’?
Is Preznit Fuckwit … joking? Is he serious? Is he so demented that he has no idea what he’s actually saying? Does it even matter why Donny said what he said? Dude is clearly unfit for office, and growing worse by the day.
This is probably a good time to note that my What The Fuck Is Wrong With You Challenge™ is now in its 2,371st day.
Where are you, worthless scribblers of the corporate-controlled press?
Imagine that Sleepy Joe Biden’s autopen had blundered its way into an unwinnable war, and then invited our adversary to nuke the shit out of us. The press would have had a field day, falling all the fuck over themselves in a mad dash to file their stories.
Jake Tapper would have orgasmed on the spot.
Where are the calls for Donny to resign?
Remember Joe Biden’s last year in office? The press had their knives out. Every time Joe stumbled over a word, or took too long to reply to a question, every newspaper in the land would shit out editorial after editorial, calling Biden icky and old and smelly, and demanding that he resign immediately, ‘to serve his country.’
Where are you now, O Glorious Editorial Writers? Donny is in fact icky and old — and he probably smells like shit. Have you seen one call for Dear Leader to step down, to serve his country? I haven’t. Why the fuck not?
Come on, Donny can’t hack it any more. Most of the time, he’s just blithering incomprehensible nonsense.
“You need to be a student at the top of your class at MIT to turn on a lawnmower nowadays, you know? But I got rid of all that stuff. Now you can have a LAWNMOWER. Boom!!”
What is this fucking idiot — this pampered fool — who has never done a day’s labor in his life, imagine he’s done to improve lawnmowers? What ‘stuff’did he ‘get rid of’?What is he hallucinating about?
ast summer, I bought a new lawnmower. It was the same as every lawnmower I’ve had since the 1960s. You pull the string and it goes vroom-vroom. Hey Jake Tapper, maybe you can explain it to me. What exactly has Donny done to Make Lawnmowers Great Again?
Why is the crowd clapping like trained seals at Dear Leader’s fever-swamp bullshit? My god, they’re just as brain dead as he is.
Again, Donny has been getting away with this shit for literal years, nattering on and on about stoves that don’t light, or toilets you have to flush a million times. Where are the worthless scribblers?
And when Donny’s not confabulating, he’s just outright lying.
“It’ll end very quickly and prices are gonna come down very sharply. You might say, ‘please, please, sir, it’s going down too fast!’ You watch. You watch what’s going to happen in a very short period of time.”
Ohhhhh, okay. This unwinnable don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran — the one that was only supposed to last one day; the one that Donny has claimed we’ve already won twenty times or more — now, it’s going to end very quickly. Any day now, just you wait and see — and then prices will plummet, and big, strong cultists, the afternoon sun rippling off their massive biceps, blinded by the uncontrollable tears of joy coursing down their ruddy cheeks, grateful for cheap gas like few thought possible, and the easy-to-start lawnmowers like no one’s ever seen before, and the radioactive craters where Los Angeles and San Diego used to be — they will all come up to Dear Leader and go ‘sir! sir! we can’t stand it any more! it’s going down too fast! Sir!”
And then, pigs will start flying out of my ass.
Donny never stops promising us that there’s going to be so much wining, we’re going to get tired of all the winning. Fuck that noise. I’m still waiting for the winning to start.
Wouldn’t you love it if our press would spend even ten minutes honestly reporting on any of this shit?
Look at CNN, dancing around the issue of Donny saying the very thing we all heard him say.
Top California officials denounce President Trump after he appeared to suggest Iran could “take out” Los Angeles or San Diego
Ohhh, Dear Leader ‘appeared’ to say what he said. How helpful of you to point that out, CNN. I can’t wait for CNN’s report that San Diego ‘appears’ to be a smoking ruin.
Apparently, if you want accuracy in reporting, you need to cross the ocean and read the Guardian.
First Thing: ‘Deranged’ and ‘dangerous’ Trump calls for Iran to strike US cities amid historic ratings low
That’s more like it. Are you paying attention, US press?
Sigh. I thought not.
It’s time for a palate cleanse. Let’s watch in awe as Davram Stiefler of the Good Liars tries and fails to get a gang of cultists to answer the age-old question, ‘why are socialism?’
Davram Stiefler: “Is everyone worried about socialism?”
MAGA: “Oh, 100%. It never works”
Stiefler: “For the viewers, what is socialism?”
MAGA: “Socialism is pretty much, I mean, it’s control of everything, I mean, they want control and there’s no… uhm… I don’t even… how to explain it, but… you have no control at all. I mean it’s just, it’s their way or the highway”
Stiefler: “But as an economic form of governance, what is it?”
MAGA: “Socialism”
I can’t even with these dumbfucks. The definition of socialism as an economic form of governance is socialism. Thanks a lot, Brainiac. You’ve really done us a solid with that simple explanation.
Jack Smith was spotted at an outdoor music festival this past weekend, wearing a ‘No Kings’ tee-shirt.
Naturally, this caused the entire MAGAverse to shit one massive brick. How dare Jack Smith exercise his First Amendment right to express a personal opinion — while also listening to music at the same time! Treason! Treason!
And, of course, no one whined louder than our whiny Whiner-in-Chief.
Maybe Donny should invite Iran to nuke Jack Smith. Y’know, kill two birds with one stone.
And again I ask…what is it going to take to have him removed from office, ecause it’s obvious the Grim Reaper isn’t up to the job.
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We Are Doomed
God, I Want To See Him Swinging From The End Of A Rope.
An Air-Headed Lackey’s Job Is Never Done.
Right?
Now SOAP Too?!
Perhaps Bobby Brainworm should stop worrying about non-existent chemtrails and START DOING HIS FUCKING JOB.
The recall of nearly 2,700 hand soaps distributed in Texas and 14 other states was upgraded as a Class II recall because of possible bacterial contamination.
Intercon Chemical Co., a Missouri-based manufacturer, initiated therecall in June, according to a U.S. Food and Drug Administration enforcement report. The FDA reclassified the recall in September.
A Class II designation means exposure to a recalled product may cause temporary or medically reversible health problems, but the likelihood of serious health consequences is considered remote, according to the FDA.
The recall covers six liquid and foaming hand soaps sold under the Intercon, Clearly Better, Summit, Vestis and Laura Lynn names.
The products were distributed to 19 wholesalers and one retailer in Texas, California, Georgia, Illinois, Iowa, Maryland, Mississippi, Nebraska, New York, North Carolina, North Dakota, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Washington and Wisconsin.
The FDA did not identify the Texas businesses or facilities that received the products.
Two products – Intercon Foaming Pear Hand Soap With Aloe and Clearly Better by Intercon Foaming Pear Hand Soap With Aloe – may contain several bacteria, including Pseudomonas aeruginosa, Pseudomonas putida, Pseudomonas monteilii, Serratia marcescens and Serratia nematodiphila, according to the enforcement report.
The other four products were recalled because of potential bacterial contamination, though the FDA report did not specify which bacteria may be present.
The affected products are:
*Intercon Foaming Pear Hand Soap With Aloe: 28.7 fluid ounces, UPC 789745002981. The recall covers 693 cases with lot codes AF97312, 26-01001 and 26-01803.
*Clearly Better by Intercon Foaming Pear Hand Soap With Aloe: 1,000 milliliters, or 34 fluid ounces, UPC 789745002615. The recall covers 143 cases with lot codes 26-01001 and 26-01803.
*Summit 150 Foaming Hand Soap: 28.7 fluid ounces, UPC 810080570030. The recall covers 1,040 cases with lot codes BF97303, BF97304 and BF97305.
*Vestis Foaming Hand Soap, Fresh Pear Scent: 33.8 fluid ounces, UPC 810080570405. The recall covers 225 cases with lot code 26-03091.
*Laura Lynn Honey Apple Crisp Liquid Hand Soap: 8 fluid ounces, UPC 086854074305. The recall covers 301 cases with lot codes C3576 and 26-01804.
*Laura Lynn Foaming Pear Scent Hand Soap with Moisturizers: 7.5 fluid ounces, UPC 08685407408. The recall covers 294 cases with lot code 26-01001.
Best-by dates for the recalled soaps range from November 2026 through May 2028.
People who have one of the recalled products should stop using it and contact the retailer or distributor for instructions about returns or disposal. Consumers can compare the product name, size, UPC, lot code and best-by date with the information in the FDA report.
[source]
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Couchfucker Says What?
Vice President JD Vance attacked the Rev. Adam Hamilton the Democratic nominee for the U.S. Senate in Kansas, because Hamilton’s Church of the Resurrection was one of dozens of sponsors of Kansas City PrideFest. Vance said Hamilton “proudly supported a drag group called Our Ladies of Perpetual Indulgence.” No organization by that name exists.
Vance called the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence “the devil worshiping group that was saying special blessings before LA Dodgers games” and “an anti-Christian hate group.” The Sisters are a 47-year-old volunteer order of queer and trans nuns founded in San Francisco on Easter weekend 1979. They raise money for community nonprofits and produced Play Fair!, a 1982 pamphlet that was among the earliest AIDS-era prevention resources.
The Dodgers did not invite the Sisters to bless games. The Los Angeles chapter received a Community Hero Award before the June 16, 2023, Pride Night game, recognizing decades of charitable work.
Sister Roma, a prominent member of the founding San Francisco order, told The Advocate, “If he was talking about the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, our name isn’t the only thing the vice president got wrong,” and added: “We do not mock nuns, we are nuns.” Hamilton’s campaign said Resurrection fed more than 45,000 people, distributed nearly 60,000 children’s books and built affordable housing in 2025.
[source]
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