as another stupid week comes to a close here in America, let’s look back at the dumbest fucking shit that happened.

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monday: the heartbreak of fuckbrainscabosis

folks, here’s the thing about stupid: it doesn’t magically cure itself.

Jason Selvig of the Good Liars: “what are your thoughts on the higher gas prices?”

cultist: “uh, well, when Obama was in there, he said ‘Americans can afford five dollars,’ well, you know, he said it right out loud. I don’t think Trump has anything to do with this. I think they are just doing this to make him look bad — the liberals… I don’t blame Trump.”

ace job, bro. you just broke Robbie the Robot, who was listening to your incoherent gibberish.

imagine having your brain become so waterlogged from marinating in Preznit Fuckwit’s fever-swamp fairy tales that facts and reason can no longer penetrate it.

scientists at the famed Walter Reed Medical Center have put a name to this malady, the inability of MAGA to process basic information and reach a logical conclusion.

they call it fuckbrainscabosis.

so, for those of you keeping score at home, high gas prices were definitely Sleepy Joe Brandon’s fault.

but nothing is ever Dear Leader’s fault.

the heartbreak of fuckbrainscabosis. won’t you help find a cure?

tuesday: literacy — it’s not an option

hey, here’s an actual thing that Piss-Drunk Pete’s Department of Clownfucking actually posted to Elon’s Nazi Bar and Child Porn Emporium.

look at what they’re saying here: winning … it’s not an option.

I guess this must be one of those ‘saying the quiet part out loud’ things, because when it comes to Donny’s don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran, ‘winning’ sure as shit hasn’t been an option.

seriously, though: what a stupid fucking grammatical mistake to make — and it happened because nobody at the highest levels of government bothered to take thirty seconds to see if what they posted made any sense at all. they just — as always — acted first and thought never.

it’s so fucking exhausting to be governed over by idiots. they can’t even do the simplest things right.

the link to this post used to be here — but look what happens if you try to click it now:

they deleted it — but the internet never forgets.

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wednesday: verily, I doth say unto you, neigh

Bible-thumping oddity Kat Kerr is, in her own words, a “demon tormentor and Spiritual King.” her web site invites you to “discover what Heaven is like by someone who has been there many times.”

Kat was apparently up in Heaven again this week, and she’s returned with some breaking news from the Big Guy in the Sky.

lay it on us, Kat.

“Jesus has his own business office in Heaven. it’s called Central Station. I do know Oral Roberts works there, and I do know Billy Joe Daugherty works there, and I do know also, right now, that Charlie Kirk works there with Jesus. and what does he do? he gets to shoot arrows of light which are very dangerous against Hell. I’ve already talked to Erika, she knows all about it.”

oh, I see. misshapen garden gnome Charlie Kirk is now an employee of Jesus Inc, in some capacity as a corner-office arrow-shooter.

but wait a minute — I have a question: what happened to the heavenly horse farm?

it’s a legit question to ask, because last October, Kim Robinson — who also claims to make regular field trips to Heaven, for sit-downs with Mister God Himself — told us that Jesus gave the misshaped garden gnome his own horse farm.

“I saw Charlie this morning, riding on a horse, with Jesus, and Jesus has given him like a horse ranch. he has a ranch.”

so what’s the deal here? did the horse ranch fail, because Charlie doesn’t know shit about running one? did Jesus sigh and go, ‘okay Charlie, I’ll give you one more chance. you can come work for me at corporate headquarters. how are you at handling flaming arrows?’

or is this a late-stage capitalism thing, where even up in Heaven, Charlie has to hold down two jobs just to make ends meet?

you god-botherers really need to get your stories straight.

thursday: going, going, gone

now it’s time to put on your flame-resistant clothing, because the stupid is about to burn out of control again.

Atheists, imagine you’re a famous baseball player and are about to bat the winning hit. Accidentally, the pitcher tosses a Christian baby at you. Would you still hit the baby out of the stadium and win millions, or spare the Christian baby?

I have to say, I’m fucking loving this hypothetical — especially the part where the pitcher accidentally throws a Christian baby.

how does that work? imagine that you’re a pitcher. you go into your windup, and as you grasp what you expect to be the baseball, you realize, ‘holy shit, that’s not a ball. that’s a baby. how the hell did that thing get in there?’ and, because apparently you’re keenly attuned to these things, as the baby leaves your hand, you go, ‘oh fuck, that’s a Christian baby.’

now, imagine you’re the batter. you watch the Christian baby leave the pitcher’s hand, and, from the infant’s rotation, you instinctively realize that you’ve been thrown a curvebaby — and it’s right down the middle of the plate.

dude, that shit’s right in your wheelhouse.

so, what do you do?

now, if it were me, I’d swing as hard as I could, and smack that little bro a country mile — because nothing’s going to happen to it. come on, it’s a Christian baby. you know that Charlie Kirk, astride his horse, is going to save it with one of his flaming arrows.

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friday: the further adventures of Some Fucking Idiot™

on Friday, some fucking idiot had exactly one item on his public agenda: a cabinet meeting at Camp David.

now, why would the fucking idiot drag his entire gang of sewer clowns, along with the White House press corps, sixty-two miles to the wilds of Maryland and back again, when they could have met in the Cabinet Room that’s right next door to the Oval Bordello?

don’t ask the fucking idiot. he couldn’t articulate a coherent reason. maybe he just wanted a photo to post to his crappy app.

so, did the fucking idiot’s stalker-slash-diaper-nurse attend the meeting? absofuckinglutely.

anyway, the cabinet meeting started the way all of the fucking idiot’s cabinet meetings start: with his sewer clowns all trying to outdo each other in lavishing over-the-top, unearned praise on him.

Bessent: “President Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton could not have imagined the economy that we would have created. It is the envy of the world.”

do you know what else Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton could have never imagined? that their beloved American people would ever be dumb enough to elect the fucking idiot twice.

the fucking idiot is pretty much mad at everybody these days.

Q: Who from the administration is talking to Iran?
TRUMP: Steve, Jared, JD is involved, Marco
Q: They say talks aren't happening
TRUMP: All they do is make me angry

oh look, the fucking idiot is threatening Iran again.

Trump: “We’ll be hitting them. We'll be hitting them very hard. At some point they’re gonna say, ‘We just can't take it anymore.’”

by my count, this is the seven millionth time that the fucking idiot has vowed to hit Iran ‘very hard.’ how is that working out for the fucking idiot?

now, somebody please explain this to me: when asked to defend Minnesota against cyberattacks by Iran, why would the fucking idiot take Iran’s side?

Q: Can you rule out that Iran is behind the water attacks?

TRUMP: I don’t think so. I think that Minnesota is behind it. You know who is behind it? Minnesota. Because they're grossly incompetent. I don’t think there was an Iranian cyberattack. I think Minnesota ought to get its act together.

later that day, reporters caught up with the fucking idiot, who was on his way to spend the weekend at his New Jersey ex-wife cemetery.

“How much longer will Americans continue to see these high gas prices?”

“Well, they’re not very high.”

not very high? do you think the fucking idiot — a soft, pampered child of wealth and privilege, who has probably never pumped his own gas in his life — has ever had to worry about the price of anything?

fuck you, you out-of-touch idiot.

and even though the entire White House press contingent was literally right there in front of the fucking idiot while he babbled his fool head off, not one reporter stood up to ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’

how fucking idiotic is that?

now let’s put a close to This Week in Stupid and have us some Daily Claudia.

here are three photos of Katie and her mom from the mid-1990s. I believe the birthday being celebrated here is Ms. Spouse’s.

that big old farmhouse table, which Ms. Spouse and I bought at an estate auction in the 1980s, now sits in the dining room of Katie’s own house.

have a non-stupid Saturday, everyone.

do you have a nomination for This Week in Stupid? email me at jefftiedrich@gmail.com. thanks!

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

yesterday was another one of those days where the stupid spiraled out of control. here a stupid, there a stupid, everywhere a stupid stupid — and you know what that means: it’s time once again to polish off the old Big Wheel of Moron™, give it a good spin, and see where it lands. ready? here we go.

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Jesus fucking wept, just take a look at what the Marvelous Mister Measles is up to now.

“hi, I’m Robert F. Kennedy Jr, your HHS Secretary. welcome to the Real Food Show. thanks to President Trump, we’ve flipped the food pyramid and put real food back where it belongs, at the center of the American plate. I’m traveling across America, connecting with renowned chefs, to show families how to cook delicious, nutritious meals with real ingredients, all at affordable prices. it’s time to eat real food. let’s get cooking.”

nobody asked for this. nobody said, ‘gee, I wonder what the dude who collects roadkill gets up to in the kitchen.”

first of all, let’s talk about his voice. look, I know that it’s not Bobby Brainworms’ fault that he sounds like he’s gargled with all the Drain-o, but who wants to sit through a half hour of that?

and do we really need cooking tips from the weirdo who chowed down on a dog, or a goat, or whatever the fuck this is supposed to be?

does America really need Bobby Brainworms’ recipe for Whale Head Fricassee?

the answer is no. nobody needs some dumbfuck cooking show. what America needs right now is an HHS Secretary who’s laser-focused on doing his actual job. Bobby should be doing stuff like, oh, I don’t know, making sure that eating lettuce doesn’t result in you become a human shit-geyser, because — news flash — the FDA is a branch of Health and Human Services. I wonder if Bobby Brainworms even knows that. no, he’s too busy crisscrossing America in search of perfectly grilled racoon penis.

and then there’s this.

While promoting the show, Kennedy warned that he will “eat anything.”

“I don’t have a gag reflex,” he notes.

way too much information, bro.

ugh. let’s spin that Big Wheel of Moron™ again. here we go—

it’s just one embarrassment after another with Preznit Fuckwit’s merry gang of sewer clowns.

PBS News host: “the State Department says it takes full responsibility for hastily altering and then presenting a map of Africa at a global AIDS conference that mislabeled every single country it highlighted. attendees shared photos of the incorrect map online. coastal countries like Nigeria, Mozambique and Cote D’Ivoire were all landlocked and in the wrong locations. other countries’ borders were misrepresented.”

how do you fuck that up? here’s how: by letting the janky, six-fingered plagiarism robot do your work for you.

“an analysis by Reuters found a watermark in the map’s image that suggests it was made with OpenAI.”

look at this shit.

it’s amazing how no one in the Donnyverse gives a fuck about doing a good job. why waste an entire afternoon on a map, when the plagiarism robot can gin something up in thirty seconds? even brain-dead MAGA chuds should understand by now that you can’t rely on AI to give you accurate anything. you have to check and re-check that shit.

not checking that shit is how you end up with this abomination.

apparently, the America we’re trying to take away is one in which women spontaneously have a child’s legs sprouting out of their crotches.

I guess we should be thankful there were no legs dangling out of the State Department’s map of Africa.

as you know, I have a running joke around here about being ‘a Responsible Journalist and Everything™’ who relies on Google’s janky, six-fingered plagiarism robot to answer my questions.

but in all seriousness, when I do actually google for information, I fucking well follow the links and do the reading, to make sure the plagiarism robot isn’t hallucinating — because unlike the State Department, I give a shit about the quality of my work.

this is what happens when you let that Project 2025 shitweasel, Russ Vought, fire every competent civil servant and replace them with empty-headed MAGA loyalists who act first and think never.

but at least the State Department is taking ‘full responsibility,’ and not blaming it on, oh, I don’t know, Dr. Fauci.

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unlike this asshole. look at who the Big Wheel landed on now.

Virginia GOP Rep. John McGuire: “it’s crazy. I don’t know if you heard about the BLT sandwich — using, uh, human fetus baby parts in the vaccine, when they could’ve used ivermectin.”

Newsmax host: “yup.”

what in the hallowed name of Batshit Conspiracy Jesus is McGuire yammering about? and listen to the dumbfuck Newsmax host, going ‘yup’ — because she’s equally schooled in this completely imaginary fever dream.

first of all, no, the covid vaccine isn’t some cocktail of ‘human fetus baby parts’ — McGuire is just being willfully stupid.

No, the COVID-19 vaccines do not contain any aborted fetal cells. However, fetal cell lines — cells grown in a laboratory based on aborted fetal cells collected generations ago — were used in testing during research and development of the mRNA vaccines, and during production of the Johnson & Johnson vaccine.

second of all, fetal cell lines are not fetal tissue.

Current fetal cell lines are thousands of generations removed from the original fetal tissue. They do not contain any tissue from a fetus.

and, lastly, BLT is an acronym that has nothing to do with human fetuses.

In drug development, BLT most commonly refers to Bone Marrow-Liver-Thymus humanized mice, a specialized animal model used in preclinical research to test human-specific immune responses, vaccines, and therapies (such as HIV or immuno-oncology drugs).

so, Rep. John McGuire is just making shit up and lying through his teeth in order to smear Dr. Fauci’s good name, and to fill the heads of Newsmax’s audience with dangerous garbage.

this level of fuckery is unsustainable. you cannot have a functional democracy when the party in power has had their brains pickled by counterfactual nonsense, and then recklessly feeds that shit to their gullible base.

John McGuire and his ilk can fuck straight off all the way to Mars.

it’s time for a palate cleanse. here’s our Hero of the Day, a caller into Rand Paul’s virtual town hall.

I think you’ll agree that she speaks for all of us.

host: “we’ll go ahead to our next question now. you are live with the Senator. you can go ahead and ask your question.”

caller: “hi, Senator. I am a proud Kentucky citizen, and I just wanted to tell you to get fucked.”

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well, it’s Friday. we made through another week in one piece. let’s reward ourselves with some Daily Claudia and get out of here.

here are a couple more selfies I grabbed off Ms Spouse’s phone. this first one’s in front of a now-defunct antique store just north of Mystic, Connecticut, on September 19, 2019.

and this one’s at home, on February 12, 2023.

have a great Friday, everyone. don’t take cooking tips from Whalehead McChainsaw.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

Preznit Fuckwit and his Republican enablers have left our country drowning in a sea of problems.

we’re bogged down in an unwinnable war. our allies hate our guts. armed federal thugs roam our streets. the price of everything continues to skyrocket ever higher. we even have explosive ass mayhem, for fuck’s sake, with people being turned into human shit-geysers.

Republicans, of course, don’t have any solutions to the problems they’ve created — but what they do have is spectacle, and performative wankery.

which is why, out of the clear blue, they chose to put 85-year-old Dr. Anthony Fauci — of all people! — under the hot lights of a Senate hearing and spent an entire day persecuting him.

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“who the fuck do you think you were for doing that? it is a total disgrace, what you did to this country.”

that was Ohio GOP Senator Bernie Moreno, grandstanding for his fifteen minutes of Fox News fame.

Moreno was having a ginormous hissy-fit because six years ago, some rando got arrested for refusing to comply with her town’s mask mandate — as if it were Dr. Fauci’s fault that this dipshit chose to break the law.

what a great use of the Senate’s time and resources, am I right? Republicans don’t have a single idea right now for how to improve the lives of We the People, so they’ve decided instead to throw red meat to their MAGA base, and keep the cultists distracted by reviving their six-year-old grievances against the hero who did his best to keep President Horsepaste McBleachguzzle from botching the covid crisis.

one by one, all the Usual Republican Dumbfucks found a camera to stand in front of, so they could parade their idiocy and try to rewrite history.

oh look, it’s Jailbird Pete Navarro. he’s crawled out from under his flat rock in order to dole out some bullshit fever-dream about how that mean old Dr. Fauci prevented him from saving the day.

“I had a million doses of hydroxychloroquine in warehouses as the defense policy coordinator for the EPA that I was trying to distribute to hospitals. and he got the FDA stop me from doing that.”

oh my god, are we really going to have to relitigate the whole fucking pandemic? seriously?

hydroxychloroquine, in case you’ve mercifully forgotten, is an antimalarial drug that has no effect whatsoever on covid.

Hydroxychloroquine is not recommended as a treatment for coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19). Also, hydroxychloroquine doesn’t prevent infection with the virus that causes COVID-19.

that not me saying this. that’s the Mayo Clinic. I hear they’re experts on that sort of thing.

if Dr. Fauci indeed put the brakes on Jailbird Pete’s dumb-ass scheme to make us all gobble some ineffective drug, he did him a fucking favor.

but try explaining that to shit-kazoos like Terminally-Concussed Tommy Tuberville, that cautionary tale for why one should never play football without a helmet. you might as well talk to a wall. at least the wall won’t be concussed.

“he should be locked up before he leaves this building today, and put in prison, and put on trial in front of the American people. we lost twenty to thirty thousand people in Alabama alone, and I hope every damned one of them sues this Dr. Fauci.”

locked up for what? here’s a pro tip for Terminally-Concussed Tommy: in order to be arrested, it helps to have first committed a crime.

is it any wonder that the guy who has no idea how football helmets work also has no idea how the American system of justice works?

oh, and I’m loving this idea of having the twenty thousand dead Alabamians all filing suit against Fauci. do we have any lawyers here who specialize in contacting the deceased and taking up their cases? maybe Alan Dershowitz, I hear he has a lot of free time these days.

it’s all so fucking moronic. every crackpot Republican came out of the woodwork to spout counterfactual nonsense.

Wisconsin GOP Senator Ron Johnson: “we haven’t acknowledged these injection injuries. these people can’t get treatment. they’re being gaslit by their doctors. ‘so it’s all in your head.’ the rate of the injection injured of suicides is increasing because they’ve given up hope, because our medical establishment, federal health agencies have completely failed them, failing to acknowledge it.”

what the fuck is Ron Johnson yammering about? as a Responsible Journalist and Everything™, I really wanted to know — so I asked Google’s janky, six-fingered plagiarism robot, ‘is the rate of injection injured suicides increasing,’ and this is what it told me:

There is no reliable public health data or scientific evidence indicating an increasing rate of suicides specifically linked to ‘injection injuries’ or medical vaccinations.

can we just take a walk down memory lane for a moment? let’s go back to March 16, 2021 — which just so happened to be my 64th birthday — when Preznit Fuckwit went on Fox News and told all his cultists to get the covid vaccine.

Maria Bartiromo: “Mr. President, I know that you received the vaccine. Mrs Trump also got the vaccine. would you recommend to our audience that they get the vaccine, then?”

Donny: “I would, I would recommend it. and I would recommend it to a lot of people that don’t want to get it. it’s a great vaccine, it’s a safe vaccine, and it’s something that works.”

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MAGA has memory-holed an entire pandemic. they’ve forgotten that millions of people were asphyxiated by their own mucus from a virus that had no cure. that everyday life was upended. that there were mass graves because bodies were piling up in our cities faster than they could be dealt with.

and MAGA has forgotten that when a vaccine was finally perfected, Dear Leader and his Slovenian rent-a-wife were first in line to get it.

in fact, the cultists have completely rewritten history. covid, the story now goes, was no big deal, and if you died from it, it was pretty much your own fault for being weak. oh, and Dr. Fauci needs to be in prison, because reasons.

as for the good doctor, he had no choice but to refuse to answer any of the Republican Senators’ questions.

Fauci accuses Rand Paul of having an “unhinged obsession with calling for my prosecution” and of making “repeated slanderous comments,” then says “although it pains me to do so... under advice of my attorneys, I will invoke my right under the 5th Amendment to refrain from answering your questions.”

this made every Republican completely lose their shit.

Hint for you: no honest person pleads the Fifth

oh, is that so?

Republicans are now the guy from Memento. they can no longer form lasting memories.

they can’t remember a virus that killed millions. they can’t remember that Dear Leader directed them to get vaccinated. and they can no longer remember that Donny himself was a perpetual motion fifth amendment factory when it came time for him to give testimony under oath.

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look, Republicans, it’s time to leave Dr. Fauci alone.

let him be. he devoted his entire life as a scientist and immunologist to solving medical mysteries and making life better for everyone. stop your dumbfuck jihad against him. he’s earned the right to be left alone, and to enjoy a quiet retirement.

as for you, Republicans, how about for once in your miserable existences, you emulate Dr. Fauci and do something to improve the lives of We the People? get those ICE thugs off our streets. do your jobs, and rein in Donny. end this disastrous war. shitcan his tariffs. stop confirming his terrible nominees. tell him he can’t build his beloved Epstein Dance Hall. go figure out what the fuck happened to Mitch McConnell.

and please leave Dr. Fauci the fuck alone.

oh, and that includes you, New York Post.

fucking ghouls.

let’s go out on a high note. let’s enjoy our Headline of the Day.

sucks to be you, Snorkels the Clown, you googly-eyed chud.

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and now, let us have some Daily Claudia.

here’s a couple pix of Baby Katie and her mom, outside a country house we owned for a while in Roscoe, NY.

have a great Thursday, everyone. leave Dr. Fauci the fuck alone.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

folks, I just got off the phone with Mitch McConnell. we had a nice twenty-minute chat about Preznit Fuckwit’s behavior at Lindsey Graham’s funeral.

‘who the fuck acts like that,’ he wanted to know.

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“virtually everyone, Republican or Democrat, liked— LINDSEY. well, not everybody. but it sounds good. not everybody. HEH HEH. I have to be honest. I have to veer from this for a second.”

I had to agree with Mitch — who acts like that?

are you telling me that after a lifetime of lying about every fucking thing, this is the moment that Donny chooses to be honest, and point out that not everyone liked Lindsey — at his funeral?

and what’s with the inappropriate laugh?

Lindsey Graham pretty much sold his soul to become Dear Leader’s bestie. he humiliated himself, and burrowed straight up Donny’s ass — and in return, Donny can’t even be bothered to put any effort at all into delivering a heartfelt and respectful eulogy.

dude, this is not the time for veering into brutal honesty. just read the words that someone wrote for you.

on second thought, maybe not every word.

“…with a gleam in his eye after being lectured on the excruciating details of PATENT LAW by a fellow— SENATOR during— a FLIGHT, Lindsey declared that he had discovered a new form of— enhanced interrogation and torture for the— Guantanamo Bay area, he said, ‘this is really bad stuff and BORING’”

who wrote this shit for Donny? who thought it was appropriate to tell a Gitmo torture joke at a funeral? comedy gold!

here’s the real torture: listening to Donny — with his weird halting cadences and his second-grade-level reading comprehension — struggle to make his way through the words he was too lazy to review ahead of time.

and then, when he was finished delivering his eulogy, Donny knocked on Lindsey’s coffin. hello, hello — is anyone home?

is that a thing? who does that?

what do you think Donny was saying, as he was rappy-tappy-tapping? ‘hey, Lindsey, did you know that Stephen Miller sleeps in one of these?’

but wait — it gets dumbfuckier.

after Donny sat back down, he pulled a packet of Tic Tacs out of his pocket and showed them to Couchfuck McGee.

Donny then tried, failed, and finally succeeded in putting a Tic Tac into his mouth.

now, we all know why Donny always has breath mints at the ready. remember what Sexual Assault Jesus so wisely counseled us in his Sermon on the Access Hollywood Tape:

I better use some Tic Tacs just in case I start kissing her. You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful—I just start kissing them. It's like a magnet. Just kiss. I don't even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab ’em by the pussy. You can do anything.

so, who inside the church was Donny so super-horny to kiss that he needed pull out the Tic Tacs, pronto? was it his stalker-slash-diaper-nurse? eww.

speaking of which, isn’t it great that the presidential diaper bag and the nuclear football travel side by side? you know, just in case Donny has his own little thermonuclear event in his pants.

I’ve never been more proud to be an American. we’re number one!

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but I know there’s one thing you’ve been dying to ask me this whole time: ‘Uncle Jeff! Uncle Jeff! did everyone’s favorite narcoleptic old fart factory close his weary eyes and fill the church with the pungent aroma of ass music?’

you fucking well better believe he did! the Nodfather was out like a light.

and the poor homey sitting right behind Don Snoreleone can’t believe he just got presidentially crop dusted.

can we get this guy a Purple Heart or something?

so, for those of you keeping score at home, Donny is now two-for-two in Falling The Fuck Asleep At Funerals. he’s batting a thousand, after having sawn logs at Pope Francis’ funeral a little over a year ago.

at least yesterday, Donny managed to keep his mouth closed and not drool all over himself.

but the crowning moment of What In The Actual Fuck didn’t even belong to Donny, because Fox News’ Plankhead of the Airwaves, Sean Hannity, out-what-the-fucked Dear Leader by a country mile.

“Lindsey, Mr. President, I would argue in my mind, probably has a heavenly version of Mar-a-Lago. it may even be a little bigger. he may have a little more gold in the Oval Office in his mansion in Heaven. and I wouldn’t be surprised if he added one big beautiful ballroom and an arch somewhere on the property. because he would want to obviously duplicate his dearest friend in life. you, Mr. President.”

oh sure. who among us wouldn’t want our own vermin-infested ethereal golf motel when we pass, complete with an Epstein Dance Hall and an Oval Bordello?

welcome to the sad state of America in this year of our lord 2026, where every event — be it a cabinet meeting or a state funeral — must inevitably devolve into an ass-kissing session in honor of a thin-skinned colicky piss-baby who will throw a five-alarm shit-fit if he isn’t lavished with over-the-top praise every minute of his soft, pampered life.

oops, there he goes again. where’s the diaper nurse?

it’s all so eternally fucking embarrassing.

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but at least we can still throw our heads back in laughter at the plight of ahem alleged rapist and sex trafficker Andrew Tate, who is still whining about how much prison totally fucking sucks.

here’s a pro tip for Andrew, and all the MAGAs who are currently blubbering about how ‘unfairly’ he claims he’s being treated:

if you high-fived and giggled with glee when innocent immigrants were kidnapped off the streets of our cities, shackled, herded into airplanes, and disappeared into some Salvadoran slave-labor gulag, then you don’t get to say one word about the ACTUAL DUE PROCESS that Andrew Tate is receiving.

mm-kay?

let’s have us our Daily Claudia.

Ms Spouse’s bff Kathy texted me two more photos yesterday. here she is with Ms Spouse, on January 10, 2025.

and here are Kathy, Ms Spouse, yours truly and Scott at Half Moon in Dobbs Ferry on December 2, 2023.

have a great Wednesday, everyone.

oh, and if you want to read my eulogy for Ms. Spouse, it’s right here. I think I did a much better job than Donny.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

he’s so fucking exhausting.

you want nothing more in this ever-loving world than to have a break from him — but there he is, hogging the headlines and sucking all the air out of the room. he’s right in your face, every single goddamned day.

the ignorance. the arrogance. the greed. the incompetence. the malignant narcissism. the preening grandiosity. the bottomless ego. the monumental stupidity. the homophobia, transphobia and misogyny.

the cheap, ill-fitting suits. the poorly-applied radioactive makeup. the rotting hands, the bloated cankles and the sagging neckgina.

the fucked-up rat’s nest of cotton-candy bullshit perched atop his big, dumb pumpkin head.

the disgusting racism.

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“when they take something over, it’s always dirty. the sidewalks are dirty. the people— are — I hate to say this — not clean, okay? the curbs are loaded with you know what. the smell is terrible. I mean, I see it happening to cities. blue cities. they’re all blue.”

that was Preznit Fuckwit, blithering in front of an audience of cultists in Milford, Michigan. Donny had been feeling low about having clownfucked himself into an unwinnable don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran, and about having shit the bed at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner — so his handlers sent him and his stalker-slash-diaper-nurse off to an Emotional Support Rally, giving Donny the opportunity to bask in the uncritical adoration of morons.

yup, there’s good old Nattie, with her ever-present diaper bag.

Dear Leader was ostensibly talking about Democrats in that clip, as he ranted about dirty, smelly cities — but you know who he was really referring to: ‘those’ people. the ones who live in the cities. the — shudder — immigrants. the ones who are EATING THE DAWGS.

good lord, do you remember when Donny actually said that, during a 2024 presidential debate? Kamala Harris had the only proper reaction to that idiocy. she laughed right into his bloated face.

she spoke for all of us when clearly mouthed ‘oh, come on.’

that episode was just another in a long line of infuriating moments that would have ended the political career of any mere moral — but not Donny.

Dear Leader actually believes that shit. he really does think that Haitians are chowing down on cute little Fluffy and adorable Fido, just like he believes that all immigrants are dirty and smell bad — because deep down inside, he’s still that cheap racist slumlord from Queens, NY, who hates all the people his tyrant Klansman father taught him to hate.

oh wait, Racist McRacistface has something else he needs to get off his chest.

“but— they were coming into our country, and they are the roughest people in the world. remember they used to say, ‘oh, foreign people don’t commit crimes.’ they make our criminals look like babies. that’s the only thing good about them, they make our people look like absolute babies. but, uh, they are— you don’t get rough— Tren-der-agua, the roughest in the world. they cut off people’s fingers so that they don’t make a phone call. ‘you gonna make a phone call?’ ‘I’d like to call the police.’ voom! their fingers are gone.”

wow, these Trenderaguans sound brutal. I guess Donny’s right to want them out of our country.

THEY’RE EATING THE DAWGS. THEY’RE EATING THE CATS. THEY’RE CUTTING OFF THE FINGAHS.

where the fuck is Trenderagua, anyway? someone should ask Dear Leader to point to it on a map. I’d pay good money to watch that happen.

racist, demented and stupid is no way to go through life, son.

who is filling Donny’s ears with this racist garbage? my guess is Nosferatu McGoebbels — because ‘finger-cutting furriners’ sounds exactly like the kind of high-pitched hysterical horse shit that squirts out of his undead mouth. I’ll bet Donny calls him up in the middle of the night and goes, ‘Stephen, I can’t sleep. tell me the story about the fingers again.’

now let’s watch Dear Leader dear-leader the shit out of his dumbfuck cultists.

“the people that count. those people love Trump. because I’VE DONE MORE FOR YOU THAN YOUR PARENTS, OKAY? your parents are good, I’m not gonna knock your parents, but I have been better to you than your parents, that I can tell you.”

this, my friends, is exactly how cults work. this is the message that Dear Leader drills into the simple minds of his easily-manipulated followers.

‘nobody loves you like I do. nobody understands you like I do. nobody treats you like I do.’

all while he’s got his freakishly undersized hand in your pocket, relieving you of your cash.

free clue for the cultists: the guy who hates all his own children (except for the daughter he wants to quote-unquote ‘date,’ if that’s what we’re charitably going to call it) has not been better to you than your parents.

I’m pretty sure the rageaholic who smacked the shit out of Cokey McSniffles for not wearing a business suit to a baseball game isn’t winning any ‘father of the year’ awards.

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now, of all the things that have never, ever happened to Donny, here’s one of the things that has never, ever happened the most.

“the transgender mutilization of our children in favor of men playing in women’s sports. I’ve looked at men playing in women's sports, it’s very unfair. I had a top, top, one of the top NFL football players standing next to a wonderful— FEMALE athlete, and they were playing a game of football, if you can believe this whole thing. this game did not work out very well. this was not a game that she will ever want to play again.”

we’re going to need to do a quick fact check here. did Donny actually witness a one-on-one football game between a ‘top NFL player’ and a ‘wonderful female athlete’?

what the fuck is this sundowning shit-sack hallucinating about now?

and his dumb-ass cultists clap at the drivel that seeps out of Dear Leader’s rancid anus-mouth, like it’s most brilliant bit of oratory they’ve ever experienced.

it’s so maddening.

so, Donny, do you have anything else to say before we get out of here?

“for years, you watch companies move their production from American down to Meh-hee-ho. MEH-hee-ho. I love the way— there’s a very nice president in Mexico, you know, that very nice— and she speaks beautifully. she calls it Meh-hee-ho. so I said to, uh, a group the other day, ‘and we will stop all business going to Meh-hee-ho’ and they didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.”

HA HA, it’s always funny when people pronounce the names of their countries using their own natural accents. what a knee-slapper.

hey, Donny — how do they speak down there in Trenderagua? can you do a little of that?

shut the fuck up, pendejo.

I’m so fucking tired of this fucking fuck.

I’m so fucking tired the brain-dead cultists who giggle and swoon at Dear Leader’s antics. I’m so fucking tired of the corrupt Supreme Court that allows him to get away with every fucking thing. I’m so fucking tired of the Congressional Republicans who look the other way. I’m so fucking tired of the worthless scribblers of the corporate-controlled press who refuse to do their fucking jobs.

I’m so fucking tired of waking up every morning and going, ‘what the fuck now?’

folks, the midterms are 98 days away. let’s blue-wave the shit out of the elections, so we can begin at least to restore a little bit of sanity to this country, and to the world.

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everything continues to totally fucking suck out of control right now, but at least we can all enjoy the fact that there was a rally in support of ahem alleged rapist and sex trafficker Andrew Tate in front of the jail where he’s being held, and exactly one sad loser showed up.

“all right everybody. I’m currently outside the jail where Andrew Tate is being held and, dude, I don’t see anybody here, bro. there’s not a single— I mean, it is raining, to be fair, but bro— not a single person?”

okay, you know the drill. it’s throw our heads back in laughter time.

let’s have ourselves a little Daily Claudia. I think we’ve earned it.

oh look, it’s Katie and her mom. the date right there on the photo is January 15, 1992.

and I have no idea when this next one’s from — but it looks like it was taken at Katie’s preschool, so we’re talking 1994-1995, more or less.

have a great Tuesday, everyone. keep your fingers away from any Trenderaguans you might see down there in Meheeho.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

Dear Leader is bugfuck nuts.

we know this. it’s not open to debate. we’ve all seen the erratic behavior. the pants-shittingly infantile tantrums. the utter lack of impulse control. the mood swings. the ever-shifting incoherence he wreaks on the world, as the family of raccoons that live inside his fat, waterlogged head randomly chew through all the wires.

but you know who else is equally deranged?

Preznit Fuckwit’s stalker-slash-diaper-nurse, that’s who.

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you know who I’m talking about: the Ivanka-esque blonde who’s ever-present, following three steps behind Dear Leader, everywhere he goes. the one whose official job is to make a broken-inside rage-baby feel good about himself.

Donny went on a posting spree yesterday, one that was even more crazypants than usual, shitting out dozens of childish memes all over his crappy app.

but of course, it wasn’t Donny pulling those antics all by himself. it’s Natalie Harp who curates all that shit in the first place and shows it to Donny, at which point he goes ‘hurr hurr hurr, so funny.’

so yeah, she’s every bit as bugfuck nuts as Dear Leader.

she’s also every bit as transphobic.

isn’t that charming? Donny and the diaper nurse are doubling down on the childish ‘Kaitlan Collins and Dylan Mulvaney, who can even tell them apart’ crack that Donny made at the Correspondents’ Dinner. why? it wasn’t a particularly clever — or even remotely accurate — remark. it’s just a sad reminder that we’re dealing with the most infantile administration ever. it’s just sewer clowns and bridge trolls.

now, somebody please explain to me, what the fuck even is this?

seriously, who’s panicking? who is this aimed at? it’s just Donny and Nattie, high on their own supply, smiling at each other and going ‘they’re so scared of us.’

how fucking dumb.

and it’s all so delusional.

which man, exactly, ‘saved America’? the psychotic teenager who was so out of control that his cold and distant parents shipped him off to a military academy, so he’d be out of their hair? the serial predator who used to fight with his dead pedo bestie over which one of them had the right to ‘own’ the Motel-a-Lago ‘spa girls’? the racist game show host? or the current doughy pantload in the Oval Bordello?

who even comes up with this stuff? oh look, it’s the worst remake of North by Northwest ever.

let’s get real. any real-life scenario where George Washington meets Dear Leader would simply be George repeatedly smacking Donny upside the head and going, ‘what the fuck is wrong with you? America doesn’t have kings, you stupid dipshit.’

how MAGA-pickled does your brain have to be to sit down at an AI prompt and go, ‘draw me Dear Leader saving George Washington from falling off of Mount Rushmore and there should be a clock with lightning in the sky, because it’s all something something something time travel’?

this is like proudly announcing to the world, ‘look how mentally ill I am.’

so is this.

let’s do a quick fact check. does Donny in real life actually look as handsome and heroic as he does in that AI-generated drek?

yeeesh.

of course he doesn’t. that ‘cosmic commander’ bullshit is just the diaper nurse stroking the piss-baby’s ego. ‘look how rugged you are, sir!’

seriously, how can Natalie keep from swooning, being in such close proximity to such a hunk of alpha masculinity?

it’s all so fucking idiotic. no other world leader needs to be coddled like this. no other head of state runs their own social media site devoted to stroking their fragile ego. at this point, even Kim Jong-un has to be all ‘come on, dude. tone it down. you’re embarrassing yourself.’

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and then there was this shit. Donny and Nattie farted out at about a dozen variations on the ‘Donny 2028’ theme, each one dumbfuckier than the next.

oh please. Donny wishes he looked anywhere near that good, ever.

it’s time for another fact check. here’s a photo from yesterday, by Matt Kaminsky, of Dear Leader waddling his way back to the White House after cheating at golf.

look, I’m going to go out on a limb here and make a prediction: there isn’t going to be any serious effort to run Donny again in 2028. all we’re seeing here is Donny’s minders trying to troll us, and get us all riled up over nothing. it’s a distraction — along with a generous dollop of letting Donny think he has a chance to run in 2028, just to keep him mollified.

but here’s where Nattie and Donny’s posting spree goes from stupid to reckless.

oh gee, Commander Crazypants is warmongering again. I have no idea what he imagines he’s accomplishing here, aside from antagonizing the country that’s currently shut down the Strait of Hormuz. does Donny actually believe that shitting out threats on social media is an effective way of negotiating?

Donny has clownfucked himself into an unwinnable don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran, a quagmire that’s now in it’s fifth month, with no end in sight — and now he’s making things worse for himself, by posting first and thinking never.

oh, it’s our tanker now? what, we’re going to board Iranian oil tankers? just like that?

that’s a pretty strong boast — especially considering that there are reports that Donny’s gin-soaked Secretary of Death had to put his jolly little war on hold, because we’re fucking running out of munitions.

The U.S. military had been poised Friday to launch an intensive series of strikes against Iran, which could have lasted up to two weeks, the officials said.

But the operation was delayed so diplomacy could proceed and as officials discussed the effect a major attack could have on the U.S.’s shrinking stocks of Patriot and other air defense interceptors.

gee, maybe Piss-Drunk Pete should have spent less time obsessing over the testosterone levels of his warfighting warfighters and more time on making sure he had enough bombs on hand to win the war he thought would be over in an afternoon.

which brings us to this exchange between Meet the Press’ Kristen Welker and UN Ambassador Mike Waltz, because — well, you have to hear it to believe it.

Welker: “NBC News is reporting that the Pentagon is actually rationing some defense weaponry amid diminishing supplies. is America backing away from a larger military attack because our stockpile has been depleted?”

Waltz: “look, we have to take a step back here. a lot of stockpiles were depleted … the administration inherited a depleted military under the Biden administration.”

Welker: “but you acknowledge that they’re depleted?”

Waltz: “I want to be crystal clear. the US military has everything that it needs to conduct this campaign, and I have to tell you, the people who are leaking this nonsense deserve to be in jail.”

got that? America doesn’t have enough munitions, because of that meanie Joe Biden, who was old and icky and smelled bad — but we also have more munitions than we need, and anyone saying otherwise needs to rot in prison.

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hey, speaking of rotting in prison — everything totally fucking sucks right now, but at least we can all enjoy Andrew Tate (or, more likely, some flunky posting for him) continuing to bellyache about how super unfair it is for an ahem alleged rapist and sex trafficker awaiting extradition for his ahem alleged crimes to be deprived of his liberty.

boo fucking hoo.

it’s high time for some Daily Claudia, wouldn’t you say?

here’s a trio of selfies I pulled off of Ms Spouse’s phone, from July 15, 2023. Ms Spouse sure did love her hats. she had dozens. I think I ended up gifting this one to bff Kathy.

have a great Monday everyone. try not to swoon in Dear Leader’s presence.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

on April 30, 2011, President Barack Obama used his White House Correspondents’ Dinner speech to mock the shit out of a certain racist game show host, directly to his face.

“but you, Mr. Trump, recognized that the real problem was a lack of leadership. and so ultimately, you didn’t blame Lil Jon or Meat Loaf — [laughter] — you fired Gary Busey. [laughter] and these are the kind of decisions that would keep me up at night. well handled, sir. [laughter] well handled.”

the experience of being used as a chew toy on live TV by a powerful black man broke the racist game show host, and he’s been hell-bent on revenge ever since.

two nights ago, the racist game show host — now Preznit Fuckwit — got to give his own speech at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner. it was America’s most-colicky piss-baby’s chance to get back at all the poopy-heads who’d ever been mean to him.

spoiler alert: the colicky piss-baby didn’t just end up shitting the bed at the Correspondents’ Dinner, he rolled around in the mess for almost an hour.

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“but I want to personally congratulate CNN’s— KAITLAN COLLINS on receiving her award. [gasps for breath] it was all about me, it’s a fake— she shouldn’t get the award. it was a fake. but I didn’t mind. I said, ‘Kaitlan, congratulations.’ but it was fake, there’s no question about it. but she’s a— young, attractive woman. she never smiles. I said ‘Kaitlan, do you ever smile?’ smile. you have a nice position. you’re at CNN fake news. you should be a happy person. so smile, Kaitlan, just smile. but— uh, we attack, and I thought Kaitlan had— really made it— big, with a major new— SPONSORSHIP, but then I informed her that it wasn’t her on the Bud Lite can, it was Dylan Mulvaney. and— Dylan Mulvaney cost Bud Lite 35— MILLION DOLLARS in market cap. that was the worst commercial ever made, by the way.”

shut the fuck up, Piggy.

here’s a free clue for you, Donny: women are not on this planet to be your personal smile-monkeys. smiles are earned. you want a woman to smile at you, you malignant toad, give her a reason to.

in fact, you should see how your own Slovenian rent-a-wife looks at you when your back is turned.

traditionally, presidents have used their Correspondents’ dinner speeches to poke gentle fun at themselves, at politics, and at the reporters who cover them.

nothing that Obama said about the racist game show host in 2011 was all that mean-spirited. he just quite accurately pointed out that Donny was an unserious buffoon.

And I know just the guy to do it; Donald Trump is here tonight! [Laughter] Now, I know that he’s taken some flak lately, but no one is happier, no one is prouder to put this birth certificate matter to rest than the Donald. [Laughter] And that’s because he can finally get back to focusing on the issues that matter, like, did we fake the Moon landing? What really happened in Roswell? [Laughter] And where are Biggie and Tupac? [Laughter]

in fact, his speech was pretty prescient.

Say what you will about Mr. Trump, he certainly would bring some change to the White House. Let’s see what we’ve got up there.

[Laughter]

[An image of the White House with a sign reading “Trump White House Resort and Casino” was shown.]

Obama wasn’t off by much, was he?

I don’t know if Donny thought he was being funny, telling Kaitlan Collins to smile, and then implying that she could be mistaken for a trans woman, but no one laughed.

no one laughed, either, when Sundowning Grandpa Befuddlepants launched into a long, rambling word-salad that was actually supposed to be a joke.

“the other day a senator I knew got a text — he’s a great guy — from his wife. and she said ‘when you get home I wanna— have you immediately come up the stairs and— make love to me’ and he said ‘I can’t do both.’ you know what HA HA— in other words AH HA HA [gestures] can’t go up the stairs AND make love. does anybody get that? I thought that was actually pretty good. that was actually the only thing I thought in this whole stupid frickin’ speech that they wrote. and that went down with not exactly great laughter. think, you know, in other words, you can’t go up the stairs AND make love. too [unintelligible]. does anybody understand this stuff?”

sure, because nothing sells a joke better than having to explain it twice, after no one laughs.

and, of course, because nothing is ever Dear Leader’ fault, Donny has to start whining, and blame the speechwriters. hey, I have an idea: maybe read your speeches ahead of time — and then, if you don’t like the jokes, you can ask for new ones.

look, it’s not the speechwriters’ fault that Donny puts zero effort into giving a speech. it’s not their fault that Donny’s an illiterate imbecile who can’t complete a sentence without getting lost and inserting random pauses. it’s not their fault that Donny has no idea how to tell a joke, unless it’s about punching down at someone he hates.

but that’s Donny. he can’t take a joke, he can’t tell a joke, and he’s too malignantly narcissistic to understand that he is a joke.

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which brings us to the actual White House correspondents — because I would like to cordially invite them all to go fuck themselves.

correspondents, can we talk? I get that you people want to have yourselves a dinner, and give yourselves awards. sure, who doesn’t go for that shit?

but do you have to invite the piss-baby president to attend, and give a speech? I know it’s a tradition, but it’s not a law. you don’t have to do it.

who thought this was a good idea?

come on, you work with this toad every day. you knew what you were getting. you knew he wasn’t going to stand up there and make good-natured jokes like Obama, or Biden, or Bush, or any other normal fucking president would have.

you knew that Donny was going to shit the bed. you knew he was going to stand before you and insult you all to your faces — especially the women. for fuck’s sake, it’s what he does every day of your lives — in the Oval Bordello and aboard Fuckface Force One — should any one of you dare ask him a question he doesn’t like.

he hates you. he calls you ‘fake news.’ he calls you ‘the enemy of the people.’

so why invite him to your little self-congratulatory party? seriously, what do you get out of it?

besides a generous view of Donny’s voluptuous neckgina, that is.

and, if you do invite him again next year, and he once again shits the bed — which he will — don’t just sit there like the useless lumps you are. say something. boo. stand up and walk out. hey, here’s an idea: finally win my What The Fuck Is Wrong With You Challenge™, which is now in its 2,293rd day.

and whatever you do, for fuck’s sake, don’t shake his hand. what in the actual fuck?

democracy dies in obsequiousness.

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we need some Daily Claudia right about now, don’t we?

here’s a Ms Spouse triptych from our patio with Jeanny and Kathy, on June 18, 2023.

have a great Sunday, everyone. don’t shake the piss-baby’s hand. what the fuck is wrong with you?

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

as another stupid week comes to a close here in America, let’s look back at the dumbest fucking shit that happened.

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monday: lights! camera! idiocy!

oh, look. the dumbest fucking shitkadoodles in the world are Big Mad at a movie — and no one is Bigger or Madder than the Space Nazi.

Before this year ends, Grok Imagine will make a full-length movie of The Odyssey that is historically accurate and true to the art of Homer

here’s the issue: the Space Nazi and his infantile cohort are super triggered right now because filmmaker Christopher Nolan had the temerity to cast trans people and people of color in his version of the Odyssey. how clownfuckingly petty is that? I mean, the ancient Greeks pretty much invented gender fluidity — but whatever, Elon. you do you.

imagine having all the money in the world. imagine living in a world of limitless choices and opportunities, and what you choose to do with your time is type angrily into your phone about stupid bullshit that’s of no importance.

what a snowflake. what a pathetic fucking dipshit.

I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to the Space Nazi’s own personal six-fingered plagiarism robot — the one that calls itself ‘mechaHitler’ and has been known to generate child porn on command — ginning up a ‘historically accurate’ version of story about giants, a dude with one eye in the middle of his forehead, and men being turned into pigs.

what could possibly go wrong?

look, all I know is that if Grok’s version of the Odyssey doesn’t have Odysseus and his homies zipping around the Mediterranean in Forkship One, it’s going to be one huge wasted opportunity.

tuesday: help, help! I’m being repressed!

folks, pour one out for ahem alleged rapist and sex trafficker Andrew Tate. keep him in your thoughts and prayers. he’s going through some things right now.

I am being held in SHU, the highest level of security which exists.

No commissary.
No visits.
No contact with the outside world.

My neighbor is a cannibal who screams throughout the night.

now comes the part where we throw our heads back in laughter. ready?

you know who I feel sorry for? the screaming cannibal. his neighbor is an extremely whiny ahem alleged rapist and sex trafficker — one who dresses funny.

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wednesday: not this asshole again

listen up, you lucky ladies! Fox News found object Jesse Watters wants to be your life coach.

“I want to talk about these college-educated, downwardly mobile women, because it’s mostly women… you’re going to become bitter because you are single, and if you are a woman, men don’t care if you have a Ph.D. so you are going to get angry, and then you are going to get ugly, and you are going to have a bad attitude. no one wants to hire anybody with a bad attitude. nobody wants to date anybody with a bad attitude.”

shut the fuck up, Piggy.

the only thing worse than this tiresome fuckface’s ‘rules for men’ are his ‘rules for women.’

look, we get it. Jesse Watters is intimidated by smart, capable women. they remind him that he’s just a giggling idiot with a toddler’s conception of meaningful relationships. Jesse doesn’t want to be challenged. he doesn’t want some uppity bitch lording her book-learning over him.

what Jesse wants is an under-educated bubble-headed yutz who looks good in tight clothing.

what Jesse wants is Andrew Tate.

thursday: a head, but no brain

oh, how charming. Liddle Marco Big-Shoes is bragging about doing war crimes again.

THE PRESIDENT’S POLICY IS A HEAD FOR AN EYE

really? because I’m pretty sure Preznit Fuckwit’s policy is to power-load an infinite series of diapers while digging himself deeper and deeper into an unwinnable clusterfuck in Iran.

but what would I know about it?

all I know is what Jesus so wisely counseled us in his Sermon on the Mount: ‘blessed are the meme creators, for they shall win the internet.’

so, without further ado, here are the winners.

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friday: the further adventures of Some Fucking Idiot™

on Friday, some fucking idiot had two items on his official schedule. the first was an Oval Bordello dog-and-pony show about something something nuclear innovation. it doesn’t really matter what, because the fucking idiot fell asleep before his toadies even finished praising his imaginary accomplishments.

after the fucking idiot finally woke from his slumbers, he showed off his world-renowned foreign policy acumen.

the fucking idiot also displayed his legendary ability to care for the problems of the American people.

I know what you’re going to ask next: was the fucking idiot’s stalker-slash-diaper-nurse in the room during the entire presentation?

of course she was.

the second item on the fucking idiot’s official agenda was the long-awaited White House Correspondent’s Dinner.

it only took about two minutes for the fucking idiot to once again fall fast asleep.

seriously, the fucking idiot was out like a light.

happily, the fucking idiot woke up just in time to see the Wall Street Journal win an award for its reporting on the fucking idiot’s ties to his dead pedo bestie.

then it was time for the fucking idiot to give his own speech. actually, it wasn’t really a speech — it was more of a marathon bed-shitting; a disconnected, rambling assortment of insults and the same old tiresome grudges we’ve been enduring for years.

the fucking idiot also told a bunch of ‘jokes’ that you couldn’t really call jokes.

no one laughed.

the fucking idiot bombed.

and even though the entire White House press contingent was literally right there in the room while the fucking idiot babbled his fool head off, not one reporter stood up to ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’

how fucking idiotic is that?

now let’s put a close to This Week in Stupid and have us some Daily Claudia.

Ms Spouse’s bff Kathy texted me a couple of pix yesterday. in this first one, some covid-era crafting is happening in Kathy’s workshop on December 11, 2020.

and in this one, Ms Spouse and her bff Karen are in the pavilion down by our lake, back in October 2018. thanks for sending these over, Kathy!

have a non-stupid Saturday, everyone.

do you have a nomination for This Week in Stupid? email me at jefftiedrich@gmail.com. thanks!

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

never underestimate the ability of the shitweasels in the Donnyverse to take current events and clownfuck them into something evil.

remember those four young service members who lost their lives last week, while fighting in Preznit Fuckwit’s pointless and illegal don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran — the ones who Donny dishonored at their dignified transfer, by using them as props, and putting his own disgraceful words into their lifeless mouths?

well, apparently the Pentagon doesn’t want you to remember, because they just un-personned them.

read on, and prepare to get super fucking angry.

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On Wednesday, the Pentagon reported on its casualties website that a total of 18 American service members had been killed during the war in Iran.

By Thursday, the Defense Department had lowered that number, reporting that 14 American troops had been killed in the war.

what in the hallowed name of Memory-Hole Jesus is this bullshit?

when The New York Times committed a journalism and asked for an explanation, Pentagon spokespeople were basically ‘hamina hamina hamina,’ vomiting out multiple, conflicting excuses.

of the three shifting alibis, this one’s my favorite:

Three military officials said that one reason behind the change was that the Trump administration decided to remove four service members killed this past weekend from the list — three in Jordan and one in northern Iraq — because their deaths occurred after President Trump declared a cease-fire in the war in April.

oh really, Pentagon? that’s what you want to go with, that ‘it’s technically not a war, so they’re technically not war dead’?

fuck you. fuck you completely. repeat that explanation to the faces of those service members’ families. I dare you.

you better believe we’re in a war — an unwinnable one that Dear Leader started — but these double-talking sons of bitches are going out of their way to call it anything but.

oh look, somebody taught Lord Shitticus a new word.

“and that’s what this— skirmish we have going on, I call it a skirmish. this is with this skirmish we have with the ISLAMIC REPUBLIC— of Iran. and I call it that. because, let me tell you, they are getting hit so hard. and they want to make a deal. but I say they’re not ready to make a deal. because every time they make a deal they want to change it, and everything. they’re not ready. they’ll be ready very soon.”

sweat-drenched loser says what?

listen to Donny try to weasel out of culpability for the death, destruction and chaos he’s wrought. oh, it’s just a wee skirmish. what’s the big deal?

that’s not what a skirmish is, you demented fuck.

A skirmish is a brief, minor fight or a small argument. It usually happens away from the main battle or is an unplanned disagreement. [1, 2, 3]

sorry pal. skirmishes don’t get the Strait of Hormuz shut down, nor do they send the price of oil into the stratosphere. wars do that shit.

who do you imagine taught Donny to say ‘skirmish’? do you think it was Nosferatu McGoebbels? nah, that doesn’t sound like him. it was probably Donny’s stalker-slash-diaper-nurse, The Human Printer. she was with Dear Leader at the dignified transfer.

why on earth did Natalie Harp need to be there?

look, we all know why the Pentagon erased these four fallen: because they didn’t want Donny to be embarrassed by the ever-rising death toll in the reckless WAR he started for no coherent reason at all.

that’s just disgraceful.

the Pentagon won’t say their names, so it’s up to us.

They died serving our country. They should be honored, not erased.
Lt. Tyler James Feehan, 25, of Hawaii
Pvt. Isabella Gonzales, 19, of Texas
Sgt. Michael Emmanuel Swinton, 30, of North Carolina
Sgt. Angel Rampersad, 28, of New York

holy shit, Uncle Jeff, did you just agree with Bill Kristol, posting on Elon’s Nazi Bar and Child Porn Emporium, of all places?

yes, I did. that’s how far through the looking glass we are.

it’s all so galling. We the People deserve so much better than this. We the People deserve truth and accountability, not a war machine that hides its dead so the colicky piss-baby in the Oval Bordello won’t throw a tantrum.

it comes down to this: if you send someone to fight for their country, and they come home in a box, you fucking well honor that death — not turn it into a secret.

I’m ashamed of my government, that I have to be the one to point this out.

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in a world of duplicitous Pentagon fuckfaces, be a James Talarico.

“we are closing schools and hospitals in this country, so we can bomb schools and hospitals in other countries. there is never enough money for education and healthcare, but there’s always enough money for war. this morning, we learned that one of our own, Pvt. Isabella Gonzales, was killed by an Iranian airstrike in Jordan. Isabella grew up in Carrollton, not too far from here. she was just 19 years old. she just graduated from Hebron High School. Isabella was sent to serve in a reckless war that no one asked for. we pay for it with our tax dollars. Isabella paid for it with her life.”

full disclosure: I may have teared up a bit just now, while typing out that transcription.

your reminder that the guy Talarico is running against — Ken Paxton — is a serial adulterer who let a confessed child rapist walk the streets of Texas through some sweetheart plea deal, just like the one Donny’s dead pedo bestie got in Florida.

that’s what the Texas Senate race is all about. honor vs dishonor.

Isabella Gonzales was nineteen years old, and sent to die in a war that some easily-manipulated fuckhead started because his despot bestie Bibi Netanyahu goaded him into it, and his piss-drunk Secretary of Death assured him it would be done and won in an afternoon.

say her name. say all their names.

Lt. Tyler James Feehan, 25, of Hawaii
Pvt. Isabella Gonzales, 19, of Texas
Sgt. Michael Emmanuel Swinton, 30, of North Carolina
Sgt. Angel Rampersad, 28, of New York

Donny Convict is such a fucking imbecile.

I realize that just saying that breaks no new ground. in fact, it’s the main topic of conversation around here — but some days he just out-stupids himself.

look what he posted to his crappy app.

MAGA CANDIDATES WON EVERYTHING LAST NIGHT IN ARIZONA, A COMPLETE SWEEP!!! I WON ARIZONA 18 MONTHS AGO. THE DUMOCRATS ARE DUMBFOUNDED. AFTER DECADES, ARIZONA IS BECOMING A REPUBLICAN STATE. CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL! President DONALD J. TRUMP

isn’t it stunning that the president of the United States has no idea how primaries work?

do you think maybe Donny’s diaper nurse could take him aside and explain to him that the reason Republicans won in Arizona was because only Republicans run in Republican primaries?

maybe she could also explain to him how batteries work.

“… did with the Green New Scam, where— we were scammed. the whole country was— I wasn’t scammed, I got it right from the beginning. I got it from— the first minute when I heard this crap. you know? they were saying wind was so wonderful, so wonderful. except you couldn’t— watch your television. they wanted to watch the debate. Donald Trump against Sleepy Joe Biden, nobody could watch it because the wind wasn’t blowing. remember that? ‘darling, we’d like to watch the debate tonight. I’m sorry, the wind isn’t blowing.’”

what in the actual small-batch artisanal fuck is Dear Leader gibbering about? how are the nice men with the butterfly nets not interrupting Donny in the middle of his reverie to carry him off to a padded cell? the man’s brain has gone fuckity-bye.

if Joe Biden had ever told a story about ‘they couldn’t watch TV because wind,’ the press would have had a field day. five new books would have come flying out of Jake Tapper’s ass, on the spot.

and yet, when Dear Leader does it, crickets.

let’s do a quick fact check: did this happen? was ‘nobody’ able to watch the Donny-Biden debate because ‘the wind wasn’t blowing’ — or is it a thing that never happened the most?

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well, it’s Friday. we made through another fucked-up week in one piece. let’s reward ourselves with some Daily Claudia and get out of here.

here’s Katie and her mom, in some undated photos that were taken at our old house in Hastings. Katie looks, what, 7 or 8 years old? that would make these photos from 1998 or 1999.

oh my god, audio cassettes.

have a great Friday, everyone. don’t be a fucking imbecile.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?”

it’s such a simple, seven-word question. yet not one of the worthless scribblers of the corporate-controlled press will dare ask it of Dear Leader.

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and holy shit, did they ever have a golden opportunity to ask it yesterday.

“all of them said very strongly, ‘we cannot let Iran have a nuclear weapon.’”

that was Preznit Fuckwit, on his way to yesterday’s dignified transfer in Dover, speaking of the four service members who died last Friday, fighting in the pointless don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran that Donny started for no good reason at all. according to Dear Leader, each and every one of them said, very strongly, ‘we cannot let Iran have a nuclear weapon.’

let’s do a quick fact check. no, these four fallen heroes didn’t say anything of the sort. they didn’t say it strongly. they didn’t have tears in their eyes. they didn’t do any of that shit, because they’re fucking dead — and this callous shithead is using them as pawns, putting words in their mouths, in a disgraceful attempt to justify the stupid, unnecessary war that ended their lives.

oh, and here’s a pro tip for Donny: you’re supposed to bow your head out of respect for the fallen, you malignant toad.

I guess we should be grateful that this disrespectful piece of shit didn’t wear a golf cap, like he did at the previous dignified transfer he attended, last March.

at least he didn’t punch his freakishly undersized fists in their air, like he did at a 9/11 memorial in 2018.

thank god for small favors, am I right?

the question must be asked: why do Donny’s minders keep sending him to Dover for these dignified transfers? you really can’t even call what took place a ‘dignified transfer,’ because Donny is the opposite of dignified. he’s a fucking buffoon, and he always makes a fool of himself. it couldn’t be more obvious that he doesn’t even have the capacity to understand the solemnity of the moment. it’s completely lost on him. nor does he give a shit about the ‘losers and suckers’ that he sent off to die. they’re just convenient props to him.

“all of them said very strongly, ‘we cannot let Iran have a nuclear weapon.’”

shut the fuck up, Piggy.

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oh look — Donny’s minders let him do two events in one day. after he stunk up the joint in Dover, he was bundled into Fuckface Force One and flown off to do a rally at Wheeler High School in Marietta, GA.

why would they do that? Donny can barely handle one public event per day. sending him to do a second is pretty much just elder abuse.

he was an incoherent, sweaty mess.

first, Donny played a vigorous round of Things That Never Happened The Most.

“as I said at my recent address at Mount Rushmore recently, I don’t know if anybody saw it, such a beautiful place. you know, the communists wants to take it down. they— try taking Mount Rushmore down. they want to blow it up.”

how come this is the first I’m hearing about this plot to blow up Mount Rushmore? clearly, I’m a member of the wrong communist cell. my homies just sit around and drone on and on about how the workers should control the means of production. BO-RING.

tell me, is ‘the commies are coming to fuck your shit’ getting any traction at all?

have you noticed that all the cool Republicans are now doing this, running their mouths about how every Democrat is somehow a communist? is that even working? come on, the Cold War ended a generation ago. nobody gives a shit about commies any more. hey, GOP — I have the 1950s on the phone. they want their scare tactic back.

next, Donny played a round of People That Never Happened The Most.

“every single time. they’re afraid of the communists. you look at it— now I was uh— I fought Ossoff before, as you know, and we won. he reminds me of— Pinky Herman. you ever see Pinky Herman?”

no, no one’s ever seen Pinky Herman, you sundowning dumbfuck.

hey, maybe Donny meant to do that, get Pee-Wee Herman’s name wrong.

then we got a little bit of Gender Reassignment That Never Happened The Most.

“we had transgender for everybody, men in women’s sports came ravaging through our cities.”

remember that, when Sleepy Joe Brandon forced everybody to be transgender — and then we had to ravage through all the cities? they gave me a dress that didn’t even fit properly. how was I supposed to ravage while wearing that?

seriously, if the worthless scribblers aren’t going to ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ could one of them at least ask Dear Leader to define what he means by ‘transgender for everybody’? because I’d really love to know. he repeats this mindless phrase over and over, until everybody forgets that it’s just some meaningless dumbfuckery he made up.

finally, it was time for Donny to talk about Legislation That Never Happened The Most.

“we’ll pass the great healthcare plan. it’s called Our Great Healthcare Plan. that’s the name of it, to stop all payments to big insurance companies and give the money directly to the people so they can buy their own healthcare, which will be much better, and you will save a lot of money.”

Jesus H. Christ on a toadstool, Donny’s been working on his healthcare plan for ten fucking years, and all he’s come up with so far is the title.

I’m loving this plan to [check notes] stop payments to insurance companies and give it directly to [checks notes again] the people, so they can [checks notes a third time] give it to the insurance companies.

that actually makes less sense than ‘transgender for everybody.’

congratulations, Donny, you’ve out-moronned yourself.

does Donny have any idea how insurance works? did he come up with this plan all by himself, or did he have help? do you think soft, pampered jackass has ever personally paid an insurance premium in his life?

hey, here’s another question: in all those clips, did you notice how bored all the students behind Donny are?

look at them:

not one of them is paying any attention at all to Dear Leader. they’re just looking at their phones, or falling asleep as the dilapidated old fuckmuppet drones away in front of them.

which quite smoothly brings us to our hero of the day: this dude, who mocked Donny’s accordion hands and anus-mouth while Donny was doing accordion hands and anus-mouth.

let’s gif that shit for posterity’s sake.

perfect. ten out of ten. no notes.

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it’s Daily Claudia time!

here’s a triptych of Ms Spouse at Stonecrop Gardens in Cold Spring, NY, on October 27, 2017.

have a great Thursday, everyone. get that camera out of my face.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

Pete Kegstand is what would happen if arrogance and an elevated blood-alcohol level became a real boy.

Pete has no business being Preznit Fuckwit’s Secretary of Defense. he has zero qualifications. he’s a dunk-tank clown — a failed weekend chat show host who Donny saw flattering him on TV.

he’s a serial fuck-up who butt-dialed classified war plans to a reporter. he’s a preening peacock with his own makeup studio. he’s a crackpot brimming with counterfactual mumbo-jumbo about things like testosterone levels, who never stops babbling about warfighters and lethality. he’s a zealot who has covered himself in Christofascist tattoos.

plus, he’s a racist, misogynistic asshole.

all of which makes it super fucking satisfying to watch Georgia Senator Jon Ossoff use Pete as a chew toy.

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John Ossoff: “Mr. Secretary, early in the conflict, day three, you said one of those core objectives was to, quote, destroy the missile threat, and as you restated it on day five to, quote, obliterate Iran’s missiles and drones. those were clearly and repeatedly stated core objectives of the campaign, which four months ago you declared had been completed victoriously with every single objective achieved. were those objectives achieved four months ago?”

Pete Hegseth: “no one ever stated that every single missile was gone. ultimately, combat ineffective means they’re not able to dig them out of their UGFs [underground facilities] and shoot at us.”

Ossoff: “had the missile threat been defeated four months ago?”

Hegseth: “it doesn’t mean they don’t have underground facilities where they put missiles in them and hold onto them because they’re the world’s largest state sponsor of terrorism. so we never expected they would stop having capabilities to shoot. the question is, at scale, against an opponent like the United States of America, which went toe to toe with them in Iran, couldn’t….”

Ossoff continued: “you stated on March 8th, day nine of the war, on 60 Minutes, you assured the American people of Iranian surrender. does that remain your prediction?”

Hegseth: “ultimately, Iran will never have a nuclear weapon to threaten the United States of America.that has been the objective, and it remains so.”

Ossoff: “so, just to review, you will not answer whether your statement made on the fourteenth day of the war that Iran’s military had been, quote, destroyed and made combat ineffective was a truthful statement to the American people, as you sit here and ask for tens of billions more for the conflict.”

fuck yeah! go, Jon!

the difference between these two could not be starker. Senator Ossoff is a serious person who brings all the receipts. Pete is a pompous fool who likes to posture and yell shit.

Piss-Drunk Pete had come to the Senate with his hand out. he needs more moolah to flush down the toilet for his unnecessary, unprovoked and illegal don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran.

apparently, the Pentagon, of all things, is running out of money.

The Pentagon faces an urgent budget shortfall caused largely by the war in Iran, with some critical lines of funding set to run out within weeks even as President Donald Trump escalates the conflict with Tehran, according to lawmakers and current and former U.S. officials.

wait a minute, wait a minute, hold on there for one fucking minute. how is the Pentagon short on cash? doesn’t the US military already get, like, all the goddamned money in the world?

six-fingered plagiarism robot, help me out here.

The military accounts for approximately 13% to 14% of the total U.S. federal budget. This allocation represents roughly $916 billion to $961 billion in direct funding.

holy shit, that’s a rounding error away from a trillion bucks.

Piss-Drunk Pete has already set fire to $37.5 billion dollars on this swell debacle in Iran that has accomplished none of its goals, but did get the Strait of Hormuz shut down, crashing the world’s economy. so we’ve got that going for us. which is nice.

now Pete’s back in front of the Senate, asking for $67 billion more.

why? so he can waste twice as many tomahawk missiles and get the Strait twice as shut down?

I keep hearing from these shit-kazoos about how the Iran war is already over, because totally obliterated yadda yadda. so why does Pete now need two times as much money as he’s already spent?

do you know how many teachers’ salaries sixty-seven bil would cover? I don’t either, but you know who does? the plagiarism robot.

A total of $67 billion would pay for 899,389 to 1,029,186 average US teacher salaries for one year, depending on the data source used for calculation.

a million new teachers in America sounds nice, doesn’t it? yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself and your stupid dreams of education, because warmongers always come first.

it’s the same old story. you can’t have healthcare, or a social safety net. your kids can’t have a hot lunch at school. none of that shit can go down, because Piss-Drunk Pete needs to lob more missiles in his futile attempt to make up for his sexual shortcomings.

by the way, Jon Ossoff wasn’t the only Democratic Senator to chew-toy Secretary Kegstand.

Jeanne Shaheen has had just about enough of Piss-Drunk Pete’s bullshit.

Pete Hegseth: “I appreciate as much as anyone winning a war, but I sit in front of a committee that wants to talk about winning a war that’s been going for 4 years, and talks about defeat in a conflict that’s been going on for 4 months to prevent Iran—”

Shaheen: “I don’t want to hear your speech.”

Jack Reed also thinks Pete should enjoy a steaming hot cup of shut the fuck up.

Hegseth: “President Trump deserves the kind of praise he should get for undertaking this effort.”

Reep: “excuse me. so he should be praised for starting a war without authority and creating a situation in which the world economy is suffering tremendously?”

seriously, fuck Piss-Drunk Pete and his greedy request for an endless supply of money. if he’s so hot to wage war on Iran, let him do what teachers who don’t have adequate funding for classroom supplies are forced to do.

let him hold a fucking bake sale.

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meanwhile, over on his crappy app, King Fuckface the First was congratulating himself for having only killed 18 members of the military — so far.

Afghanistan War: 20 years, 2,000 DEAD.
Iraq War: 9 years, 4,600 DEAD.
Vietnam War: 19 years and 5 months, 58,220 DEAD.
Korean War: 3 years and 1 month, 36,574 DEAD.
Venezuela War: 1 day, 0 DEAD.
Iran Military Conflict: 4 months, 18 DEAD.

first of all, fuck you. eighteen dead is still eighteen young people who had their whole lives in front of them — except now they don’t, because some bloodthirsty shithead decided to start a reckless war of choice.

what a callous shithead — and what a nonsensical talking point.

if Donny had been president in July 1965, he could have bragged about how his dumbfuck war in Vietnam had only gotten 103 soldiers killed, because according to the plagiarism robot,

Official U.S. military records from the National Archives show that 103 U.S. service members died during the first four months following the deployment of U.S. combat troops in March 1965. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]

oddly enough, not one of those 103 soldiers was Donny, because he was too busy having his daddy hire a quack doctor to gin up a bullshit note about imaginary bone spurs.

now, wait a minute — where have heard this ‘what’s the big deal, it’s not like anyone’s died’ rationalization before?

oh right.

that’s an actual, unretouched screen shot from a February 27, 2020 Hannity broadcast, with Fox News’ Plankhead of the Airwaves assuring us that covid was no big deal, because, after all, no one has died from it.

how’d that work out for us, Sean?

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happy second anniversary to one of the most-hopeful and also one of the turned-out-to-be-wrongest posts I’ve ever written.

oh well. it all seemed so simple at the time.

we could certainly use some Daily Claudia right about now, so let’s.

oh look, it’s Baby Kate and her mom. undated, but Katie was born in July 1991, so it’s not too long after that.

and here’s Ms Spouse and Katie in Newport, Rhode Island, in the mid-1990s. yes, we sure did like our ocean-side summer vacations.

have a great Wednesday, everyone. chill the fuck out, we’ve got this.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

yesterday, Preznit Fuckwit’s handlers made sure to keep him in his hidey hole, and out of the public eye. Donny’s been a little too crazypants lately, what with his ‘me me me’ antics at the World Cup, and his dumb-ass ‘China stole my election speech,’ which was so balls-to-the-wall batshit that the entire wingnut noise machine has already memory-holed it.

so, in Dear Leader’s absence, it was up to the sewer clowns to step up and be their own worst selves — and Tom Homan, Donny’s own personal Fred Flintstone, was all ‘let me at that shit.’

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Homan’s premise is a simple but heartfelt one: ‘look, if you get murdered to death by some trigger-happy, masked ICE thug, you definitely had it coming.’

“it comes down to one simple fact — these people failed to comply with law enforcement ... all they had to do is comply. if they did, they’d be alive today.”

first of all, Tommy Bags o’ Cash can fuck straight off into the sea.

‘comply or die’ is some un-American bullshit right there. despite the best efforts of Donny and his toadies, we still have a Constitution here in the US of A, and ‘due process’ is still a thing.

law enforcement — if you can even call a mob of poorly-trained masked psychos ‘law enforcement’ — does not get to play judge, jury, and executioner on the streets of our cities, just because someone gets a little too mouthy with them.

‘we get to kill anyone we want to’ is some straight up Nazi shit. Tommy Cash-Bags ought to be ashamed of himself for even suggesting it.

oh, and speaking of people who don’t comply, I can think of a bunch of shitfucks who refused to comply when cops ordered them to stand down on January 6th, 2021.

I don’t see much complying going on, do you? someone ought to ask Homan how he thinks law enforcement should have handled that situation.

while we’re on the subject of Tom Homan, whatever happened to that business of him being investigated for accepting a bag with fifty grand in it, given to him by some undercover FBI agents. that whole thing mysteriously went fuckity-bye, and Tommy Cash Bags basically got away with it.

nobody wants to talk about it. if you ask Donny’s personal ambulance chaser, Todd Blanche, he’ll just look at you blankly, like he has no fucking clue what you’re on about.

and you can forget about any Congressional oversight. has anyone even seen Congress lately? where the fuck are they? do we need to put the entire 218-seat GOP House caucus on the side of a milk carton?

don’t you wish your job allowed you to get away with that kind of shit?

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you just gotta love how every time Preznit Fuckwit says something mind-numbingly stupid, Republicans all dutifully line up to pretend the idiotic drivel that just seeped out of Dear Leader’s rancid anus-mouth actually makes perfect sense.

Donny’s Big Mad at Canada right now, because wind — and so he’s slapped a 50% tariff on all goods coming down from America’s hat. Donny claims that the ginormous Ontario wildfires happening right now are Canada’s own fault, because of ‘poor forest management.’

it’s an idiotic notion, and I’m going to explain why — but before I do that, here comes New Jersey GOP Congressman Jeff Van Drew, to double down on the dumbfuck.

“there is reckless mismanagement — not only in Canada, but California does the same thing. understand, this is the ultra-left again who puts out these policies. they don’t want Americans to have air conditioning, to have cars… Canada isn’t working because they are so far left. this should be a warning shot to them. you better come to America, say, ‘we’re sorry, we’re gonna mend our ways and do what we used to do in the old days and groom and maintain the ground level of what is underneath the forest.’”

boom, there it is: ‘maintaining the ground level,’ this nonsensical notion that wildfires happen because nobody raked the stupid leafs.

first of all, North Ontario’s forest is boreal, and almost as big as Texas. nobody is raking that shit. it’s too fucking large. it’s crazy to even consider it. it’s like asking Texas to manage their desert. Texas can’t even manage its own electrical grid.

and secondly, ‘raking the forest to prevent wildfires’ isn’t even a thing. don’t take my word for it. let’s ask Google’s janky, six-fingered plagiarism robot to explain it.

hey, plagiarism bot, does raking the forest prevent wildfires?

No, physically raking a vast forest floor with hand tools does not prevent or stop wildfires. While clearing small bits of dry leaf litter and pine needles right next to a house can help protect that specific building, raking millions of acres of wild forest is physically impossible, ecologically unnecessary, and ineffective against large crown fires.

but don’t try to explain any of that to Dear Leader. he knows more about forest management than all the forest managers. even the big, strong forest managers, the ones who can barely see because of all the tears in their eyes.

here’s Donny, dumbfucksplaining forest raking to Gavin Newsom in California in 2018.

look at him, gesturing away, as if he had any idea what he was gibbering about. oh, to have the serene self-confidence of the mediocre white man. it must be nice.

‘rake the forests.’ ‘nuke the hurricane.’ ‘bleach the virus.’ solving all the world’s problems is a piece of cake when you have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.

Donny claims to have gotten the rake the forest idea from Finland. you’ll be shocked to hear that Finland has no idea what Donny’s blithering about.

Finns have been baffled by US President Donald Trump’s comments praising the country for managing its vast forests by raking.

Citing a conversation with his Finnish counterpart, Mr Trump said they spend “a lot of time on raking and cleaning.”

But President Sauli Niinisto told a Finnish daily he could not remember talking about raking when the two met.

The forestry director of the Finnish Forest Association, Heikki Savolainen, told the newspaper that raking was not usually a forest-management measure.

Finland does not rake their forests — but now, Donny’s sweaty fever-dream of raked forests has been solidified into GOP dogma. because Dear Leader says forests must be raked, Congressional Republicans are going to persecute Canada until they fall in line.

government by retributive mass delusion, just as our Founding Fathers envisioned.

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speaking of retribution, let’s talk a little about this business of Donny’s Department of What Used To Be Justice going after The New York Times, subpoenaing phone records and sending FBI agents to reporters’ homes.

that shit’s abhorrent, and the Times is right to be fighting in court.

but I can’t help thinking of this story from just about two years ago, during the run-up to the 2024 election.

“To say that the threats [to] democracy are so great that the media is going to abandon its central role as a source of impartial information to help people vote — that’s essentially saying that the news media should become a propaganda arm for a single candidate, because we prefer that candidate’s agenda.”

I wonder if Joe Kahn still thinks refusing to defend democracy in 2024 was the right move — because it sure seems this whole ‘we’re above the partisan fray’ thing has come back to bite the Times right square on its ass.

here’s a thing I wrote at the time.

does Joe Kahn really think the Times is going to be hunky dory if Donny Convict shitcans democracy? does he not know what happens to a free press under fascist rule?

I hate being right. I mean, I love being right — but I also hate it.

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let’s have us some Daily Claudia.

here’s a trio of selfies I pulled off of Ms. Spouse’s phone, taken at the Irvington, NY restaurant Rivermarket on June 4, 2022.

have a great Tuesday, everyone. rake your goddamned forest already.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

Little Donny Fuckface is why the world can’t have nice things.

immediately following Spain’s victory over Argentina in the 2026 World Cup final, Donny — in his divine role as President of the United States, Supreme Ruler of the Western Hemisphere, Lord-Emperor of the Sky Above and All the Planets, and God’s Own Avatar on Earth — presented the winning team with their trophy.

and then, the stupid shit wouldn’t get off the stage. he just stood there like the malignant narcissistic lump he is, and tried to make Spain’s joyous moment all about himself.

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oh, how wonderful — Donny’s found himself a camera to preen into, as FIFA president Gianni Infantino struggles mightily to get him the fuck out of there.

look at this vainglorious, self-centered toad, basking the unearned glory of a victory that was never his. he’s so serenely pleased with himself.

yo, Donny — I just got off the phone with Mitch McConnell. he said to stop being a childish asshole. don’t make me get Lindsey Graham on the phone next.

how hilarious is it Gianni Infantino, who has tried so hard to ingratiate himself with Donny, eternally flattering him, and forever festooning him with fake prizes, had to be the one to pull him aside and be all ‘hey numb-nuts, what the fuck?’

now let’s watch as the UK Guardian wins every journalism award in existence with this brutal photo caption.

“Gianni Infantino carefully explains to Donald Trump that he is not part of the spanish national team.”

here’s the video of Infantino sprinting across the stage and trying to get Donny the hell out of there.

now keep in your mind the moment where the Spanish team joyously leaps into the air, because check out what Spain did when they posted that image to social media — they cropped Donny out of the photo.

that’s right, Spain wasn’t about to let some dilapidated pantload ruin their moment.

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but that’s what you get when you partner with Donny, and Infantino should have seen this coming a mile away. ‘look at me, look at me, look at me’ is how malevolent narcissists roll, and no amount of careful explanation of how ‘you shouldn’t be hogging the spotlight right now’ is every going to penetrate Dear Leader’s fat waterlogged head.

after all, this is the guy who rudely shoved the Prime Minister of Montenegro aside, for committing the heinous crime of blocking Donny’s access to the camera.

invite Donny into your life, and he’ll find some way to fuck you over. we all see this happen again and again and again, and nobody ever learns their lesson. everyone thinks they’re going to be the one who will finally be able to handle this out-of-control toddler.

Gianni Infantino bent over backwards to curry favor with Donny. he shamelessly flattered him every chance he could. he allowed Donny to steal last year’s World Cup trophy. remember that dollop of dumbfuckery? Infantino brought the trophy to the Oval Bordello, just to show it off, and when he tried to leave, Donny was all ‘this is mine now’ — leaving Gianni no choice but to present the winning team with a cheap fake that he had to scramble at the last minute to have made.

that should have been Infantino’s first clue that he was dealing with an immature diaper-baby, but he didn’t learn.

Gianni then ginned up a bogus peace prize and awarded it to his pal, just so Donny would stop his incessant whining about never having won the Nobel Peace Prize that in his mind he so rightfully deserved, for having ended every war ever.

spoiler alert: Donny gleefully hung that worthless trinket right below his neckgina, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to whine about the Nobel.

and just two weeks ago, Infantino stepped in to reverse a ref’s decision to bar a US player from appearing in a critical match, giving the US team an unfair advantage.

and what did Gianni get out of doing any of that shit for Donny? bupkis. an embarrassing moment for him, for Donny, for America and for the entire world.

it’s all so fucking pointless and stupid.

at least Donny didn’t try to pilfer this year’s trophy. I guess we should all be grateful for that.

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now let’s pour one out for Maria Bartiromo, and keep her in our thoughts and prayers, because she’s experiencing some extreme cognitive dissonance right now.

“CENTCOM says that there will be outsized action in retaliation, but I don’t understand how it’s possible that Iran has the capabilities to fight this way, and continue to try to lash out at Gulf countries and US military bases, because the U.S. has obliterated Iran’s military, and the president continues to reiterate that.”

oh, Maria. you are this close to getting it.

who wants to tell her? ooh! ooh! can I be the one?

Maria, Dear Leader has been lying to you. he hasn’t obliterated shit, and that’s why Iran is continuing to attack US bases across the Gulf region.

but Maria Bartiromo is never going to get it, because her paycheck is dependent on her not getting it.

so she’s going to continue to furrow her brow and peer into the camera in a state of confusion as she wonders aloud why the world is not as Donny says it is.

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everything fucking sucks right now, so let’s just enjoy twenty-one seconds of Donny and his pet monkey Gianni getting booed by the crowed at MetLife Stadium.

you gotta love it when ‘Donny gets booed’ is one of the top stories of the day.

chef’s kiss. ten out of ten. no notes.

and now for some Daily Claudia.

here’s a triptych from the patio on April 15, 2024.

have a great Monday, everyone. don’t go hogging any glory that’s not yours.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

here comes a spoiler alert: you know that deteriorating Oompa Loompa in the Oval Bordello — the one with the fluorescent tangerine yap and the fucked-up rat’s nest of cotton candy bullshit on his head, and the stinky diapers, and the cankles, and the neckgina, and the rotting hands — the one who’s turned America into a festering shithole?

well, it turns out that he isn’t very popular. in fact, he’s fucking toxic.

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that sound you hear is Donny Convict’s poll numbers cratering.

According to a new Washington Post-Ipsos poll released yesterday, only 15% of Americans strongly approve of Trump’s job as president, down 2% from what was already a record low in April. For context, the first poll conducted after the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol still had 27% of the country strongly approving of Trump, down from a high of 35% the year before. His once “unshakable” base has now dwindled to about 1 in 6 Americans. Nearly half, or 47%, strongly disapprove.

wrap your mind around that: only 15% of Americans ‘strongly approve’ of Dear Leader.

that 15% represents what remains of the MAGA chuds who are too dim to realize that Donny has made their lives worse, along with everyone else’s — and there are only about as half as many of these brain-dead dipshits now as there were when Donny did his failed crybaby insurrection five and a half years ago.

let’s put that number in perspective.

Still, 15% of Americans are hanging strong with Trump. But then again, that’s less than the 19% who aren’t convinced the earth is round. Some people just don’t want to acknowledge reality.

yup, there are more dumbfucks walking around refusing to believe what their own eyes tell them about the shape of the planet than there are ‘strong’ supporters of Donny.

is it any wonder that Dear Leader is toxic right now? everything totally fucking sucks, it’s his fault, and everyone knows it.

we’ve got state-sponsored racism, and masked government thugs gunning down whoever looks at them funny. greed and corruption are off the charts, with a chief executive whose only interests are lining his own pockets and turning the White House into an even tackier version of his Florida golf motel.

and we’ve got that unwinnable don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran that just resulted in the tragic deaths of two more American service members.

nobody voted for that shit. oh sure, Dear Leader’s cultists may have voted for the racism and the incoherence and the owning the libs, but they sure as hell didn’t vote for some clusterfuck of a war that’s raised the price of every fucking thing. so even they’re pissed at Donny right now.

plus, he’s a fuck-up. he’s fucked up our once-strong economy. he’s fucked up our relationships with our allies. he’s fucked up the East Wing, the South Lawn, the Rose Garden, and the Reflecting Pool.

he even fucked up America’s 250th birthday party. who fucks up a birthday party?

Donny, apparently.

how completely fucking embarrassing. you only get one shot at a 250th birthday party, and Donny whiffed.

so yeah, even the law-wattage chuds are starting to figure out that he’s not the messiah they thought he was. he’s a very naughty boy.

enjoy your 15% ‘strong approval’ rating, Donny. you did that!

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you know what else is unpopular? ass-spraying mayhem. that shit’s got a zero percent strong approval rating.

one point of origin for the cyclospora outbreak that’s turned Americans into human shit-geysers has been found.

Grocers and retailers rushed to pull products containing iceberg lettuce off shelves on Saturday, as Taylor Farms issued a recall, notifying customers that lettuce shipped to 27 states may have been contaminated.

The largest produce company in the country is under scrutiny after federal officials linked the company’s Mexico plant to an outbreak of illness from cyclospora, a parasite that can cause severe illness, including vomiting, cramping and explosive diarrhea.

now, it’s all well and good that shit is finally being dealt with, but check out this paragraph that’s buried down all the way at the bottom of the NY Times’ report.

On Thursday evening, Taylor Farms executives met with the White House and the Food and Drug Administration to try to distance the company from the outbreak and air concerns about the official investigations into the outbreak.

what the fuck?

the fact that these sons of bitches were at the White House, trying to obfuscate their culpability, should be the lede of the story — not something mentioned in passing two paragraphs up from the end. most folks don’t even bother to read that far.

on top of that: how did Taylor Farms executives end up at the White House, anyway, right in the middle of this developing story? what corrupt shitwaddery is this?

I asked Google’s janky six-fingered plagiarism robot if Taylor Farms’ CEO had ever made political donations to Donny, and oh fucking boy, has he ever.

Bruce Taylor, CEO and chairman of Taylor Fresh Foods (Taylor Farms), and his company have a history of contributing to conservative and Republican political campaigns, including a notable $1 million donation tied to pro-Trump political funding infrastructure. Public campaign finance data and recent federal disclosures tracked by sources like OpenSecrets outline these contributions. [1, 2, 3, 4]

oh, and the fuckery afoot here gets worse — and goes back more than a decade. feast your eyes on this, from the World Socialist Web Site.

In August 2013, the FDA’s traceback confirmed that the salad mix behind cyclosporiasis outbreaks in Iowa and Nebraska was supplied by Taylor Farms’ Mexican subsidiary to Olive Garden and Red Lobster restaurants. The FDA stated then, as the company states now, that grocery store packages were not implicated. That season, 631 laboratory-confirmed cases were reported across 25 states.

In October 2024, slivered onions Taylor Farms supplied to McDonald’s caused an E. coli O157:H7 outbreak that killed one person and sickened more than 100.

everyone should be fucking furious right now. this is yet one more example of off-the-charts corporate greed and corruption. Taylor Farms has been sickening and even killing Americans for years, and has been allowed to escape accountability, over and over.

and of course, Little Donny Fuckface is right in the middle of it, hosting late-night meetings with the culprits.

color me shocked.

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everything continues to totally fucking suck, but at least we can enjoy watching Andrew and Tristan Tate getting arrested.

Andrew and Tristan Tate have been arrested in US on British extradition request. They face 59 charges of rape, trafficking for sexual exploitation, assault and offences relating to indecent images of a child and extreme pornography.

this couldn’t have happened to a nicer couple of shitweasels. here’s the video.

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now let’s do some Daily Claudia.

I don’t have a place or date for this one. I pulled it off Ms Spouse’s Facebook page. it’s from some work-related event decades ago.

but I do have a date and place for this one. it’s our living room, on Ms Spouse’s 66th birthday, February 7, 2016.

have a great Sunday, everyone. don’t fuck up any birthday parties.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

as another stupid week comes to a close here in America, let’s look back at the dumbest fucking shit that happened.

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monday: you wanna talk about ‘deformed’?

Nosferatu McGoebbels is what would happen if an irrational hatred of all that is decent and good in this world became a real boy.

just take a listen to what this undead shit-goblin has on his mind.

"it’s not a coincidence that when you look at these violent Antifa demonstrations, not one of the people that is demonstrating looks like a normal person. not one looks normal. they’re all deformed in some way in their appearance, in their dress, in their mannerism.”

‘deformed’?

bro, have you looked in a mirror lately?

wait, what am I saying here? vampires can’t see their reflection in a mirror.

okay, that certainly explains a lot.

let’s just give the final word on the subject of Stephen Miller to the folks at The Onion, because they’re so fucking good at this.

tuesday: smell that? that’s the sweet smell of liberty

now let’s all watch as MAGA screech monkey Eric Metaxas teaches a master class in the difference between freedom and free dumb.

“‘air quality alert.’ so you’re like, okay, whatever that means. it’s going to be hot and humid, okay, air quality alert. then it says, it tells you, limit outdoor activity. and I thought, who’s telling me how to live my life? I’m an adult man, in a free country. you’re telling me, ‘limit outdoor activity’? so this is Big Brother with your tax dollars, telling you how to live? how dare they? how dare they say that? who are they? who has the right to tell me or you or anyone anything? it’s a free country, I can do whatever I want. but somebody in the government has the temerity to say ‘limit outdoor activity.’”

okay, I had to watch that clip two or three times, just to make sure that Eric Metaxas wasn’t mocking people who think like this. oh no, he’s serious. he’s super fucking outraged to be asked to follow voluntary health guidelines.

dude, Canada is burning to the ground right now, and all that smokey shit is floating right right down into our country. yeah, for your own good, you might want to avoid filling your lungs with that.

oh, you think so? well you can get the fuck out of here with your useful advice, because nobody tells Eric Metaxas what to do.

and this, my friends, is the difference between freedom and free dumb.

freedom is the ability to live your life as you see fit. free dumb is doing stupid shit specifically because someone asks you not to.

this is why so many of these dumbfucks died during covid — because nobody tells MAGA what to do.

so go for it, Eric. step outside and breathe deeply. fill your chest with all that smokey goodness. mmm, feel that tightness? that overwhelming urge to cough up a lung? that’s free dumb!

and while you’re at it, go play in traffic. that’ll really stick it to The Man.

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wednesday: attention, citizens! new patriot guidelines have dropped

yes, this is an actual post that the White House put up on Elon’s Nazi Bar and Child Porn Emporium.

okay, the top row is pretty easy to figure out. don’t tread on the flag, yadda yadda. whatever. the bottom row is a complete mystery. what’s the unpatriotic part, being a sore loser? being a sore winner? not showing up at all for the bronze medal? oh wait — it’s being a guy and playing women’s sports. way to be incoherent AND completely fucking transphobic at the same time, White House.

but it’s the middle row that really has me perplexed. wearing a sombrero is unpatriotic? really?

now, I wanted to know if everyone’s gotten the memo on this. so, in the name of Responsible Journalism and Everything™, I asked Google’s janky six-fingered plagiarism robot to show me ‘pictures of Republicans wearing sombreros’ — and this is what it served up: six-time international lap hockey champion Handy Oakley, tarted up for Halloween in Mexican cosplay, along with her boyfriend, dressed as in ICE thug.

they’re such charming people. so classy. I hope the vigorous beetlejuicings this guy is getting is worth the embarrassment of being seen in public with a complete ninny

but the plagiarism robot also showed me this.

and this.

so now I’m really confused.

hey guys — don’t nobody tell Eric Metaxas that he’s not allowed to wear a sombrero, because you know what he’ll do next.

thursday: just fuck off

now, why am I unsurprised to learn that Fox News found object Jesse Watters is a brainless giggling shitstack who thinks rape is super fucking hilarious?

“women on base, you better be careful, HEH HEH. port calls, women, HEH, Asia, you better be careful. because these guys are going to be wild animals and you better watch out. [bursts out laughing]”

shut the fuck up, piggy. what the fuck is wrong with you?

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friday: the further adventures of Some Fucking Idiot™

on Friday, some fucking idiot threw one of his most childish tantrums ever — and that’s saying a lot.

the fucking idiot got Big Mad at Canada for allowing themselves to burn to the ground.

I shit you not.

how dare Canada inconvenience us with their stupid smoke? why aren’t they raking their forests? well, the fucking idiot’s gonna settle Canada’s hash, but good. he’s going to make them pay a smoke tariff! boo-yah, Canada!

what a fucking idiot.

the fucking idiot also got Big Mad at that imaginary inflatable Antifa frog who put that skillionty-mile-long slash into his beloved Epstein Reflecting Pool.

look at what Antifa is making the fucking idiot do. now he has to go out and find a vandal-proof liner.

gee, if only there were some way of putting a fucking-idiot-proof liner around the entire country.

then it was time for the fucking idiot to attend his one scheduled public event for the day: a reception for FIFA at his fugly golden tower in New York City.

the fucking idiot used this festive occasion to whine once again about the 2020 election, and also to ramble incoherently about [checks notes] not getting credit for [checks notes again] 250 years? what the fuck?

fact check: the fucking idiot’s father was born in The Bronx.

here, the fucking idiot asks if anyone knows what he’s talking about. the answer is no.

apparently, the fucking idiot’s freakishly tall son is freakishly awesome at handling balls. who knew?

finally, when the reception was over, the fucking idiot, looking extremely svelte, was forklifted into his big boy booster seat on Marine One and flown to his New Jersey ex-wife cemetery, where he’ll be spending the weekend.

and because the press wasn’t allowed at any point to get near the fucking idiot, not one reporter had the opportunity to stand up and, at long last, ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’

how fucking idiotic is that?

now let’s put a close to This Week in Stupid and have us some Daily Claudia.

here’s a triptych of birthday dinner photos from February 12, 2023.

have a non-stupid Saturday, everyone.

do you have a nomination for This Week in Stupid? email me at jefftiedrich@gmail.com. thanks!

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

last night, the world’s most ginormous sore-loser piss-baby waddled into the East Room of the White House, gripped the podium for dear life, and spent twenty-seven entire minutes pissing and moaning and bellyaching and power-loading an endless series of diapers about how super fucking unfair it was of the entire world to have conspired to deny him his rightful place as the True Winner of Every Election Ever.

it was so tiresome. we’d all heard this bullshit before. any one of us could have predicted exactly what would seep from Donny’s rancid anus-mouth.

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in fact, Georgia Senator Jon Ossoff did predict it.

“here’s what’s going to happen tonight: the world’s most famous sore loser will deliver a prime-time presidential sour grapes address to pursue his six-year-old grievances about the 2020 election, while his war in the Middle East spirals out of control and the cost of living continues to rise for Americans across the country.”

you nailed it, bro. that’s exactly how it played out.

imagine a speech so detached from reality that even Fox News was all ‘whoa, whoa, don’t quote us on any of this shit.’

“Fox News has not seen the evidence yet and is not in a position to evaluate the accuracy of the president’s statement and claims.”

Donny’s big premise was that something something China something. see if you can figure out what Dear Incoherent Leader is gibbering about here, because I give up.

“Chinese government’s strategy against the United States was focused on undermining domestic confidence in the US president. they wanted to just make you sound— like your president wasn’t so hot, when actually, your president has done— a great job.”

oh, come on. ‘they wanted to just make you sound like your president wasn’t so hot’? once again, this illiterate fuck didn’t bother to read his speech ahead of time before delivering it, and so he botches one sentence after another. you would imagine that Donny would want to put some actual effort into presenting a supposedly bombshell speech like this, but you’d be wrong.

okay, here’s the meat and potatoes of Donny’s fever-swamp hallucination: that China stole a pickledillion voter files.

“the year starting the 2020 election cycle the People’s of the Republic of China carried out what is believed to be the largest compromise of election data in history, resulting in in China’s illegal acquisition of two hundred and twenty million US voter files.”

the MAGAverse has been making this cockamamie ‘stolen voter files’ claim since 2021, and have never offered up one shred of evidence of any of it.

by the way, there were only 168.31 million registered voters in 2020, so that’s a pretty neat trick that China pulled, stealing 52 million additional voter files that never existed.

but wait — it gets batshittier.

“the second set of documents we are releasing reveals that members of the DEEP STATE — very, very famous group of people, many cases — in our intelligence agency worked to actively suppress and downplay information about the extent of China’s election meddling, covering it up from both the president and the American people, like nobody thought was possible.”

LIKE NOBODY THOUGHT WAS POSSIBLE! there it is, the obligatory maximalism. everyone take a drink!

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so Donny’s accusing his own CIA of hiding this massive conspiracy from him, and it’s a massive conspiracy like nobody thought possible. maybe the massivest conspiracy of all time.

a big strong conspiracy with tears in its eyes.

this claim was such a stinky pile of patently false horse shit that even The New York Times was forced to commit a journalism.

as promised, the White House released allegedly declassified documents to support their case — but because everything this administration does is a fucking clown show, what they released showed that it was Russia that was doing the interference — for Donny.

This is really incredible. Docs released by Trump tonight confirm RUSSIA tried to spread claims Biden was engaged in criminal activity vis-a-vis Burisma and that it advanced those narratives “with US officials” and planed a “high-profile corruption scandal... at the peak of the 2020 US presidential campaign.”

seriously, didn’t anyone read this shit before releasing it?

Trump released documents that confirm Russia tried to interfere in the 2020 election to hurt Biden. It says Russia tried to “orchestrate a high-profile corruption scandal” and push narratives about “voter fraud resulting from mail-in balloting”

look, we know what’s going on here. Donny’s whole ludicrous dog-and-pony show isn’t really about what happened six years ago. it’s about what’s going to happen three months from now, in November.

as the always-essential Joyce Vance points out —

But what is important is understanding what he’s trying to do: He’s searching for a way to legitimize interference in an election he knows his party is going to lose in November. He may not be on the ballot, but it has personal consequences for a man who derives benefit and protection from the presidency. So this is about laying a predicate for intervention and challenges in 2026 and future elections.

this is all about delegitimizing the entire election process — because Republicans know that they’re going to get their asses handed to them this November. none of their fuckery — the unwinnable war, the high prices, the innocent people gunned down by masked ICE thugs — none of it is popular, and the midterms are going to be a bloodbath.

the ultimate goal is to throw doubt into the outcome of every election — past, present and future.

terminally-concussed Tommy Tuberville — that cautionary tale for why you should never play football without a helmet — understands the assignment.

“we probably have four or five senators that didn’t legally win. they shouldn’t be up here.”

oh really, Tommy? four or five of your colleagues whom you work with every day aren’t legit? care to put your money where your mouth is and name names? or are you content to just run your damn fool mouth and make wild accusations that you know aren’t true?

what a fucking coward.

and because we live in the dumbfuckiest timeline, MAGA is throwing a Ginormous Mad at China right now.

Florida’s An Appalling Lunatic is calling for the immediate cancellation of every Chinese student visa.

I guess there’s something in the water down there in America’s dangly bit, because Meatball Ron DeSantis is also calling for the persecution of hundreds of thousands of Chinese students.

great, it’s now open season on Chinese immigrants, all because Dear Leader is a colicky piss-baby sore loser who always needs someone to blame for his own fuck-ups.

let’s circle back to Joyce Vance and give her today’s final word — because everything she says here is true.

No one would be trying to take your vote away from you with this level of intensity if they didn’t understand how important your vote is, how powerful it makes you. Trump always says the quiet part out loud. He’s doing that now. Your vote matters. Prepare to do whatever it takes this fall to cast it. Let’s put a stop to the lies once and for all.

for two hundred and fifty years, America has had free and fair elections. let’s not let these evil fuckers normalize cheating, the way they’ve normalized all their other abhorrent behavior.

as Joyce says at the end of every single one of her posts, ‘we’re in this together.’

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well, we made it through the week in one piece! let’s reward ourselves with some Daily Claudia.

here’s a triptych from the Hudson Valley Steakhouse on November 29, 2024.

have a great Friday, everyone. remember to wear a helmet when you play football.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

Mad King Donny and his royal court of sewer clowns never stop coming up with new ways of wasting America’s time on stupid bullshit.

hey, let’s knock down the historic East Wing and put up some ramshackle Epstein Dance Hall™ in its place. let’s throw a birthday party on the National Mall, only let’s make it such a rinky-dink piece of crap that no one shows up. let’s clownfuck the Reflecting Pool into something unrecognizable — and then let’s arrest the shit out of anyone who touches it.

wait, I know — let’s put Donny’s big, dumb pumpkin face on money.

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check out what that smug, haughty bastard Soybean Scott Bessent posted to Elon’s Nazi Bar and Child Porn Emporium:

As America commemorates 250 years of independence, the @usmint will begin striking this new $1 gold coin to honor the enduring legacy of liberty and a lasting symbol of patriotism. Featuring President Trump, it celebrates the strength of American values, and the promise of a nation dedicated to preserving freedom for all.

awesome. just what America needs, more trashy totems to Dear Leader.

who is this for? it’s not for you or me. it’s not for We the People. if someone tries to fob one of these pieces of shit off on me, I’m going to be all, ‘get that thing the fuck away from me.’

it’s not even for MAGA. what are the cultists going to do with it? shove in their pocket and forget about it, that’s what. it’s worthless. nothing costs a dollar any more. you can’t even stick it in a parking meter.

this useless bauble is for one person only: the colicky piss-baby narcissist whose ugly mug appears on it. ‘hurr hurr hurr! get a load of me, I’m just like a Roman emperor!’

it’s all so un-American. it goes against everything our country is supposed to stand for. no other president has felt the need to have their ego stroked by the constant affirmation of having their face on everything.

you know who thought this shit was abhorrent? George Fucking Washington, that’s who. when George caught wind of a plan to put his face on currency, he was all ‘are you kidding me? fuck that shit and fuck it hard. we just fought a whole revolution against that kingly bullshit, remember?’ — and so Washington’s face didn’t appear on the dollar until 1869.

not even Donny’s despot snugglebunny Kim Jong-un puts his own face on North Korean money. that’s just wonderful — Kim has more in common with George Washington than he does with America’s Dear Leader.

but Donny has been super horny to have his face on money for some time now. a plan to stick his dopey visage on a $250 bill has apparently gone nowhere, and so this is his consolation prize: a golden one-dollar coin with some ludicrously cleaned-up version of his ‘look at me, I’m so defiant’ mug shot. what a heartwarming reminder that our convicted felon president has been arrested four times. he’s number one!

let’s do a quick fact check. does Donny look anything like his new vanity coin?

yeeesh.

oh, and just like all the gaudy crap that Donny has glued onto the walls of the Oval Bordello, this accursed abomination isn’t even real gold.

The coins have a gold-like finish but a non-precious metal composition. They are being minted in Philadelphia and are expected to be available in the fall.

what an infuriating waste of time and resources.

no one asked for this. no one said, ‘please, Oh Great And Wise Dear Leader, please stick your dipshit face on everything. tart up the entire White House in bordello gold, and build useless monuments to yourself all over Washington DC.’

no one asked for any of that shit — and no one needs it, either.

none of what Donny’s flunkies are getting up to these days is about governing, or making life better for We the People.

it’s about stroking the ego of a fragile little boy whose unloving tyrant father always told him he was a loser.

it’s all so fucking stupid.

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Soybean Scott wasn’t the only sewer clown busy posting onto Elon’s Nazi Bar yesterday. our piss-drunk Secretary of Death was getting up to his own stupid bullshit.

I’m not even going to bother posting the video. it’s two-and-a-half minutes of Pete yammering away about how totally fucking awesome lethality is. I’ll just quote the stupidest part.

“today, I’m authorizing a new screening program for testosterone deficiency for our service members, ensuring you have the right testosterone levels to operate at your absolute best. warfighters age 30 and older are going to be tested annually. those under 30 can choose to voluntarily get the test as well.”

this is some counterfactual manosphere mumbo-jumbo right here, the idea that warfighters can’t warfight at their warfightingest best unless they’re pumped so full of testosterone that it’s coming out of their eyeballs.

Piss-Drunk Pete is not a serious person. he’s a crackpot, just like everyone else in the Donnyverse. obsessing about testosterone is the kind of dipshittery you get your brain pickled by if you spend too much time hanging out on Elon’s Nazi Bar. no normal person goes around talking about ‘high-T.’

if you had started explaining to George Patton or Dwight Eisenhower about how they needed to worry about their ‘T-levels,’ they’d have never stopped smacking your face. they had an actual war to win, and they didn’t have time for your stupid bullshit.

so, what about women in the military? are they now going to be tested for their hormone levels, too? the BBC asked that very question, and this is the answer they got.

the Pentagon said it had no comment.

of course they had no comment. women are an afterthought in Piss-Drunk Pete Kegstand’s He-Man Army.

if I were Pete, I’d be more concerned with my blood-alcohol level than my testosterone level, but that’s just me. I’d also work on my skateboard prowess.

it’s all so eternally exhausting. every goddamned day, the nonstop firehose of fuckery gets sprayed in our faces. one day it’s the Strait of Hormuz. the next day it’s Mitch McConnell and Lindsey Graham. then it’s race cars on the streets of DC. after that, explosive ass-geyser mayhem.

yesterday it was golden coins and testosterone — oh, and fucking magnets, too.

“and the same thing with uh, the— MAGNETIC elevators. we want ’em to be— made hydraulic, which you can be— hit by— LIGHTNING, it could be hit by anything. when a little water touches the magnet, it doesn’t work any more. you’re run— you’re, you’re in the Atlantic Ocean with waves that are sixty feet high, and the Pacific Ocean with waves that are seventy feet high, and they’re talking about magnets. it makes ya wanna get sick.”

that was our Self-Styled-Expert-on-Everything-in-Chief, at the U.S. Army War College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, dumbfucksplaining why he abhors magnetic-based tech in aircraft carriers: because magnets stop working when they get wet — which just might be the stupidest thing to have ever seeped out of Donny’s rancid anus-mouth.

he’s such a fucking idiot.

look, don’t take my word for it. Google’s janky, six-fingered plagiarism robot was made for this shit.

No, magnets do not stop working when wet. The magnetic field passes through water just as it does through air. The physics of magnetism are completely unaffected by water.

optimally, you’d prefer that the President of the United States and the dumbest fucking moron on the planet were two different people — but we don’t have the luxury of living in that timeline. we live in the shitty one. lucky us.

let’s not even talk about the rest of what Donny said yesterday. you’d just get stupider as a result. just know that after gibbering like a lunatic for almost an hour, Sundowning Grandpa Befuddlepants fell the fuck asleep.

that is such low-T behavior. has this guy been tested yet?

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let’s get out of here with some Daily Claudia.

this morning, upon waking up, I found a text waiting for me on my phone, from Ms Spouse’s bff Kathy. ‘have you used this one? 9/2/24,’ it read, with a photo attached.

no, I hadn’t — but now I have. thank you, Kathy.

have a great Thursday, everyone. don’t let your magnets get wet.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

it’s looking more and more like it may have been a mistake to put our nation’s healthcare in the hands of Mister Excuse Me While I Snort This Heroin Off This Toilet Seat And Oh By The Way, I Have No Idea How Germs Work — because one minute, everyone’s asses are working perfectly normally, and the next, it’s oh dear lord, holy fuck.

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A parasitic infection that causes miserable bouts of watery, “explosive” diarrhea is surging across the United States. Several states are seeing cyclosporiasis rates that are unusually high for this time of year. Meanwhile, health authorities are scrambling to identify the source driving the outbreaks.

As of July 14, nearly 7,000 cases of cyclosporiasis have been reported by at least 34 states, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

excuse me, cyclospora is the what what parasite? I’m sorry, but those are two words you never want to see next to each other in a headline.

but not to worry, right? I’m sure the Centers for Disease Control are all over this shit, tracking the fuck out of it and making sure it doesn’t spread, right?

wrong.

the CDC used to track cyclospora rigorously, so that in case of any ass-spraying mayhem, they could pinpoint the source and deal with it pronto. but then Bobby Brainworms was all ‘nuh-uh, that’s stupid,’ and shitcanned the program.

Last year, however, the program was significantly cut back as part of Secretary Robert F. Kennedy’s changes to the agency. Required monitoring was cut down from eight pathogens to just two, and the other six pathogens were made optional, including cyclospora.

awesome. Bobby Brainworms made an uninformed ad hoc decision based on zero data — because that’s how crackpots roll.

that’s the ethos of Donny’s entire administration: ‘I don’t have the intellectual capacity to understand why this is important, so let’s get rid of it.’

what could possibly go wrong, am I right?

this is the same mindset that led the Space Nazi’s merry band of pimply DOGE incels to run wild, gutting federal agency after agency.

‘we don’t know what the fuck this is, so get rid of it.’

and so now, a year later, we’re dealing the fallout. around the world, children of dying of malnutrition due to cuts to USAID — all because DOGE couldn’t be bothered to care.

and here in the good old US of A, people are turning into human shit-geysers because some whale-head-chainsawing dumbfuck couldn’t be bothered to spend five minutes learning why tracking cyclospora might come in handy someday.

so, can we expect Brainworms to learn from his mistake, and maybe reinstate cyclospora tracking?

fuck no. the condition of your ass, and what comes rocketing out of it, is not his problem.

dude literally swims in raw sewage.

and he honestly believes that because nothing bad happened to him, what’s the big deal?

Bobby Brainworms thinks that if you get sick, it’s your own fault — probably for not doing enough shitty pull-ups or something.

in no sane world would this lunatic ever be in charge of anyone’s health and well-being. but welcome to the Donnyverse, where a reality-show wash-out is in charge of making sure planes don’t fall out of the sky, and a woman who organized fake wrestling matches now sets the nation’s education agenda.

we’re being ruled over by clownishly incompetent morons who were chosen because Dear Leader saw them flattering him on Fox News. loyalty over expertise — it’s why tinpot fascist authoritarian regimes ultimately fail, because they can’t govern their way out of a paper bag.

oh, and speaking of Preznit Fuckwit, don’t expect him to offer any help with anything going on in the general vicinity of your butt. like Bobby Brainworms, he too believes that if you get sick and die, it’s your own fault — for having bad genes.

Trump on Lindsey Graham: “His father died just about at the same age. I’m a believer in the race horse theory. If you have problems, you have problems. And he had some problems.”

yeah, if Lindsey Graham didn’t want to keel over at age 71, maybe he should have stopped being a fucking idiot and picked a better father.

let me just point out that Donny’s own father died of Alzheimer’s, so put that in your race horse pipe and smoke it.

Donny’s also too busy trying to prove that the 2020 election was RIGGED AND STOLLEN™.

oh joy. this Thursday speech of Donny’s is supposedly going to be one in which he will offer up whatever cockamamie ‘proof’ that he and his flunkies have ginned up about how Donny actually won the 2020 election.

The speech, in part, will highlight claims that China accessed U.S. voter data, said the people, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss a plan that has not been made public. Trump is also expected to discuss findings related to Venezuela, they said.

never mind that this is all a fever-swamp hallucination of Donny’s with no basis in reality. there was no foreign interference in 2020 election. there was no fuckery of any kind in 2020. remember, Donny lost all the sixty-plus lawsuits he brought following that election — but Donny doesn’t give a crap about any of that. he’s going to present his ‘new’ bogus proof, and he’s going to use it as a pretense to fuck with the upcoming midterm elections. it’s going to be a shit-show.

lucky us.

don’t expect Congress to deal with your explosive ass mayhem, either. they’re too busy being laser-focused on stupid bullshit. look at what they’re congratulating themselves for: the House passing a bill making Daylight Savings Time permanent.

BREAKING: the House just passed my bill to make Daylight Saving Time permanent! Leader Thune should bring this bill to a vote in the Senate so we can finally get this done. More sunshine. Less depression. Let's finally lock the clock!

counterpoint: how about we don’t do this?

this is another one of those notions that sounds super fucking awesome on paper, until you spend five minutes critically thinking about it.

fun true fact: we tried making Daylight Savings Time permanent in the 1970s. the experiment was a miserable failure.

Google’s janky six-fingered plagiarism robot, could you please explain to the nice people exactly how that shit went down?

Permanent Daylight Saving Time (DST) was implemented on January 6, 1974, under the Emergency Daylight Saving Time Energy Conservation Act signed by President Richard Nixon. Originally planned as a two-year trial to conserve energy during the 1973 oil crisis, it proved highly unpopular due to dark, hazardous morning commutes for schoolchildren. It was repealed in late 1974. [1, 2, 3, 4]

Read more about this historical experiment in the Smithsonian Magazine or explore a detailed timeline of events on Wikipedia.

spoiler alert: it turned out that no one liked having the sun rise at 9:00 in the morning in December, and the law was repealed before it was even a year old.

but because we live in the shittiest timeline imaginable, where history is doomed to repeat itself endlessly in the dumbfuckiest way possible, we’re going to make this easily avoidable mistake all over again.

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meanwhile, Bobby Brainworms’ Splendid Fountain of Shit is expected to continue at least through August.

Federal health officials have said they expect the outbreaks of cyclospora – a parasite that causes watery, explosive diarrhea – across the US to continue through August as they scour the food supply chain for the culprit.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) has identified 1,645 lab-confirmed cases of the parasite; reported that 145 people have been hospitalized; and reported that they have a backlog of 5,100 cases that require more analysis, including interviews.

awesome. cases are piling up faster than the CDC can deal with them, because not only did Whalehead McChainsaw gut the tracking program, he also fired staffers and cut the CDC’s budget.

now if you’ll excuse Bobby, he’s too busy to deal with any of this. that raw sewage isn’t going to swim around by itself.

welcome once again to life in the shittiest timeline — in this instance, literally.

here’s your Hero of the Day: E. Jean Carroll, who is 5.6 million dollars richer than she was two days ago.

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let’s have some Daily Claudia.

here’s Ms. Spouse, at home on her 66th birthday, on February 7, 2016.

and here she is in our car, on November 21, 2024. I know this is a mundane photo, but it holds special meaning for me.

seven weeks prior to this photo, Ms Spouse fell in our house and broke her hip, requiring her to spend three weeks mending in the hospital and four weeks regaining her strength and mobility in a physical rehab residence. her final exam before being deemed ready to be released and come home was to successfully climb by herself into our car.

spoiler alert: she passed the test with flying colors.

have a great Wednesday, everyone.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

Monday was another one of those days where the stupid was off the charts. here a stupid, there a stupid, everywhere a stupid stupid — and you know what that means: it’s time once again to drag out the Big Wheel of Moron™, give it a vigorous spin, and see where it lands. ready? here we go.

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“August 22nd and 23rd, it’ll be— an awesome display of American— patriotism and raw horsepower and ingenuity. uh, you’re seeing— you’re gonna see cars at the level that— they’ve never been at before with cars— racing more than a hundred and ninety miles and even higher than that down Pennsylvania Avenue. it wasn’t exactly designed for that … it’s gonna be a sight for the ages, it really will be something special. and they’re gonna go all around the National Mall at speeds that are not quite— if we did that the regular day I think people would be put in jail perhaps for the rest of their lives, right? it wasn’t supposed to be that way, but it’s gonna be beautiful. it’s gonna be a beautiful si— a beautiful thing to watch.”

holy shit. it was bad enough that the South Lawn of the White House was converted into a human cockfighting ring so that Preznit Fuckwit could watch grown men beat the shit out of each other.

now he’s going to turn downtown Washington DC into a fucking race course, with cars going — according to Donny — a hundred and ninety miles an hour or faster, over streets that weren’t built for that sort of thing.

what happens if there are crashes? who fixes the damage to the streets and buildings that are affected? hey, maybe Donny will award a gazillion-dollar no-bid contract to an incompetent crony — and then blame some inflatable Antifa frog when it all goes to shit.

nobody asked for this. nobody said ‘forget about solving any of the problems facing We the People. give us some dumbfuck car race instead.’

the world is falling to pieces right now, and this is what this overgrown child fixates on: stupid bullshit and useless spectacle.

I guarantee that Lord Fuckbrain has spent more time fantasizing about how RACE CARS GO VROOM VROOM than he has thinking about how to end his unwinnable don’t-you-dare-call-it-a-war on Iran.

it’s pretty much for certain that he only spent about ten seconds coming up with this shitbrainery.

oh, so Donny’s going to collect tolls now, because he’s the self-styled GUARDIAN OF THE HORMUZ STRAIT. that’s hilarious. this should be a logistical fucking nightmare.

I’ll bet that right now, that weird stalker Natalie Harp is making Dear Leader some WORLD’S GREATEST GUARDIAN OF THE HORMUZ STRAIT coffee mugs and tee shirts.

I’m surprised it took our mob boss president this long before demanding a piece of the action. usually he’s right on top of that greed shit.

so, Donny imagines he’s going to somehow inflict a 20% fee on all cargo shipped. you know what’s that’s going to do to the price of everything? raise it by 20% — because who do you think is going to eat the cost? you and me, that’s who.

now here’s a fun thing that Liddle Marco Big-Shoes said three weeks ago: “no country is allowed to charge tolls or fees on an international waterway. that’s existing international law.”

so now, we’re the pirates. awesome.

has Preznit Fuckwit thought any of this through? of course he hasn’t. the stupid shit always acts first and thinks never.

who’s going to calculate the value of each ship’s cargo? who’s going to enforce this 20% fee? what happens if someone refuses to pay? does the US military board the ship?

Donny got some stupid, greed-fueled idea into his fat, waterlogged head, shat it out onto his crappy app — probably wihtout telling any of his flunkies first — and now rest of us are left to stand around and go ‘what the fuck?’

thanks, Donny, now I have a headache. let’s just spin that Big Wheel of Moron™ again.

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oh look, they’re draining Donny’s beloved Epstein Reflecting Pool again, because reasons. apparently, the fucking thing is still an algae-choked, paint-peeling nightmare, and repair work has to be redone for the third time.

as the water level decreased, everyone gathered ’round to see the ginormous gash that Donny claims got antifa’d into the bottom of the pool — and guess fucking what: there’s no gash.

of course there was no gash, but do you know what was uncovered, when the water was drained? tire tracks.

tire tracks from when Donny ordered his motorcade to drive over the freshly-resurfaced pool. that’s how the pool got damaged. what did the stupid shit think was going to happen when he had a fleet of cars cross the still-drying paint?

when Donny found out that We the People were laughing at his clownfuck incompetence again, he shat a massive brick, directly onto his crappy app.

look at that — Donny’s doubling down on his stubborn insistence that yes yes yes, there’s a gash that somehow no one except he can see. and it’s tripled in length. it’s no longer three hundred feet — it’s now three hundred yards, the length of three football fields.

Donny’s entire fragile ego is wrapped up in this thing, so he’s gonna go to his grave insisting that there was a great big gash in the pool. a gash like few thought possible. maybe the greatest gash of all time.

a big strong gash with tears in its eyes.

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okay, let’s spin that Big Wheel one last time.

gee, it only took about ten minutes after Lindsey Graham’s death for his replacement to be sworn in as Senator from South Carolina — and look who is it, Darline Graham Nordone, Lindsey’s sister.

you know who ordered South Carolina Governor Henry McMaster to appoint Nordone be to her brother’s replacement, don’t you? of course you do. it was Dear Leader.

look, I don’t want to disparage Darline Graham Nordone. she seems like a nice person. before being named to the Senate, she was head of the South Carolina Commission for the Blind.

but she’s a political lightweight. as far as anyone can tell, she’s never held elective office at any level. has anyone thought to ask her how a bill becomes a law?

once again, Donny is being allowed to run the United States government as his own personal fiefdom, doling out cush jobs to cronies, family members and various found objects.

this is how we ended up with a piss-drunk dunk-tank clown as our Secretary of Death, and a whale-head-chainsawing maniac in charge of making sure everyone comes down with explosive diarrhea. this is how we ended up with two New York slumlords as our chief negotiators with Iran.

and this is how we ended up with an Epstein Reflecting Pool that needs to be repaired on a weekly basis.

I’m sure Ms. Nordone has the best of intentions, but you know and I know that she’s going to be expected to vote whichever way Dear Leader tells her to. everything is transactional with President Mob Boss. he’s not going to make her a Senator with expecting a little scratch in return.

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now let’s move on to someone on whom the Great Wheel of Moron™ would have never landed. let’s have us our Daily Claudia.

on December 17, 2016, as we were driving through Jefferson Valley, Ms Spouse made me stop the car so she could get out and photograph something.

and on October 24, 2021, as we were having brunch, she made me stop talking so she could pick up her phone and photograph something.

now, because I’m a Responsible Journalist and Everything™, I just now went onto Ms Spouse’s phone and scrolled through her photos, to find out what she was pointing her camera at on that date. oh look, it’s me and Katie.

have a great Tuesday, everyone. don’t fixate on stupid bullshit and useless spectacle.

here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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.

“Lindsey Graham is not pining for the fjords. he’s passed on. he has ceased to be. this senator is no more. he’s expired, and gone to meet his maker. he’s a stiff. bereft of life, he rests in peace. if you hadn’t nailed him to his seat, he’d be pushing up daisies. his metabolic processes are now history. he’s off the twig. he’s kicked the bucket. he’s shuffled off his mortal coil, run down the curtain, and joined the bleeding choir invisible. THIS IS AN EX-SENATOR.”

— with apologies to Monty Python

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and, just like that, Lindsey Graham showed Mitch McConnell how it’s done.

none of this coy, is-he-or-isn’t-he weeks-long drama. just a chest-clutch keel-over and away we go.

shed not a tear for Old Lindz. he was a shameless shitweasel with no moral center, and will be remembered as a barnacle who attached himself to whomever the fuck happened to be in power.

he was for Joe Biden before he was against him.

“if you can’t admire Joe Biden as a person, you’ve got a problem. he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met in politics. as good a man as God ever created.”

and he was against Preznit Fuckwit before he was for him.

“he’s a race-baiting xenophobic religious bigot. he doesn’t represent my party, he doesn’t represent the values the men and women who wear the uniform are fighting for.”

but everything changed on that fateful day in 2017 when Donny invited Lindsey out for a “friendly” round of golf.

nobody knows what Donny threatened him with that day (oh boy, can we speculate) but immediately, Lindsey became this guy — the snarling pit bull who would growl and snap his jaws at anyone who dared cross Dear Leader.

this was the loyal MAGA foot-soldier who actually told Brett Kavanaugh — the guy who was so blackout drunk all the way through prep school and college that he has no idea how many women he assaulted — ‘you have nothing to apologize for.’

yeah, right.

but then, the second that Donny was no longer in power, Lindsey was perfectly happy to chuck him straight the fuck under the bus.

here’s a story that was a one-and-done and immediately got memory-holed. I have no clue why it got no traction. remember back in 2023, when it seemed a safe bet that Donny would get nailed for election fraud in Georgia?

Fulton County DA Fani Willis convened a grand jury, and one of the people she hauled before it was — lo and behold — Lindsey Graham. and he fucking sung his heart out.

“After fighting a four-month legal battle all the way to the US supreme court to block his grand jury subpoena — and losing … Graham turned on a dime ‘and threw Trump under the bus’,” Michael Isikoff and Daniel Klaidman write in Find Me the Votes: A Hard-Charging Georgia Prosecutor, a Rogue President, and the Plot to Steal an American Election, Politico reported.

holy shit, put Lindsey under oath and the most amazing stuff comes out of his mouth.

According to secret grand jury testimony in Fulton county confirmed by the authors, Graham testified that if you told Trump ‘that Martians came and stole the election, he’d probably believe you’.

absolutely, Donny would have believed you — and he would have have never shut the fuck up about it.

it was so unfair what the Martians did. so unfair. nobody has done more for the Martians than what I did. so unfair.

then there was this gem.

He also suggested to the grand jurors that Trump cheated at golf.

TELL US SOMETHING WE DON’T ALREADY KNOW, LINDSEY.

but here’s the icing on the cake.

“After Graham was finished testifying,” Isikoff and Klaidman write, “he bumped into Fani Willis in a hallway and thanked her for the opportunity to tell his story.

“‘That was so cathartic,’ he told Willis. ‘I feel so much better.’ Then, to the astonishment of one source who witnessed the scene, South Carolina’s senior senator hugged the Fulton county DA who was aggressively pursuing Trump.

I told you — Lindsey Graham was a shameless shitweasel who inevitably attached himself to the nearest person in power. for four years, he was Donny’s unwavering soldier. then, just like that, he turned on him, hugging Fani Willis and thanking her for giving him the opportunity to rat on his former flame.

of course, as soon as Dear Leader wormed his way back into power, here comes good old Lindsey to burrow himself all the way back up Donny’s ass.

and now that Lindsey has gone and done the mortal-coil shuffle, the vultures are circling. oh look, it’s America’s self-appointed bathroom panty inspector.

“I’ll certainly take a look at it” — Nancy Mace expresses interest in running for Lindsey Graham’s Senate seat

oh, please do, Nance. we could use a laugh right now. we can’t wait for you to come in fifth place in the primary, just like when you tried to run for governor. what a clownfuckingly inept debacle that was.

now here’s a pro-tip for Fox News’ Plankhead of the Airwaves, Sean Hannity: when posting on Elon’s Nazi Bar and Child Porn Emporium about how sad you are that your ‘dear friend’ has passed away, try to spell his name correctly.

of course, America’s Vulture-in-Cheif managed to make Lindsey Graham’s death all about himself.

as always, I have questions. did Lindsey always walk around with a ginormous printout of Dear Leader’s wikipedia page? why? what’s the context here? America demands answers.

oh, and Donny claims he could have been the last person to talk to Lindz on the phone.

let’s do a quick fact check.

buh-bye, Lindsey.

you have passed on. you have ceased to be. you’ve expired, and gone to meet your maker. you’re a stiff. bereft of life, you rest in peace. your metabolic processes are now history. you’re off the twig. you’ve kicked the bucket. you’ve shuffled off your mortal coil, run down the curtain, and joined the bleeding choir invisible.

and your legacy is going to be this tweet you never deleted.

oh, and this person — Julie Lynn on Threads — wins the entire fucking internet for this post.

“Sure, Mitch McConnell was evil, but don’t forget that Lindsey Graham did everything he did, only backwards and in high heels.”

goddammit, that’s good.

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oh, look. Glitch McConnell, the is-he-a-corpse-or-isn’t-he who disappeared into a hospital a month ago and hasn’t been heard from since, has released a statement: he’s not dead yet. in fact he’s feeling much better.

I shit you not. Mitch’s handlers have ginned up some story about how he was taken to the hospital because he fell down in his house. he also something something something pneumonia. but now, everything’s hunky-dory and Mitch is resting comfortably in a rehabilitation center — but he’s not ready to return to the Senate any time soon.

look, they’ve released a photograph and everything.

I”m sorry, maybe this is real — but it looks fake as shit to me.

this whole cockamamie story raises more questions than it answers. what’s Mitch’s wife Elaine Chao doing there? as far as anyone knew, she’s been in China.

and where exactly is McConnell? we still don’t know.

what about the report that CPR was performed on someone in cardiac arrest in McConnell’s home on the morning he was rushed to the hospital? NBC News has scanner audio of that. how did ‘cardiac arrest’ magically become ‘clumsy Mitch fell again’?

and how is McConnell suddenly younger than he was three months ago?

most important of all, why are all the worthless scribblers of the corporate-controlled press accepting this story verbatim, and not asking any of these questions?

why the fuck is everyone reporting on this as if it were Mitch McConnell himself who released the statement? he didn’t. his handlers did. Mitch didn’t ‘break his silence.’ he didn’t say shit.

* * *

look, I just got off the phone with Lindsey Graham. we chatted for about 20 minutes.

Lindsey talked about how much it fucking sucks to live in a world where we can’t trust anything we’re told. maybe that photo is real. maybe it’s AI. he talked about how much it sucks that no one in a position to ask questions is willing to ask questions.

Lindsey also pointed out that if Mitch is well enough to pose for a photo, he’s well enough to shoot a minute-long ‘proof of life’ video, or pick up a phone and call in live to a cable news program. until he does, we have every reason to remain skeptical.

all I could do was agree.

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yes, it’s time for today’s Daily Claudia.

here’s two from the patio. cocktails at night on April 15, 2024.

and Sunday morning brunch on May 14, 2017.