Brave Sir Fuckwit does battle with the heinous Amphifa frog

dumbfuckery like few thought possible

here’s a perfectly normal and not at all frightening or horrifying thing that happened in the Oval Bordello yesterday.

Preznit Fuckwit’s handlers freshened his diaper, straightened his tie, wiped the drool from his chin, and sat him down at his Big Boy Resolute Desk, with all his Emotional Support Flunkies gathered behind him.

they then gave him some papers to sign.

now here’s the fun part that’s not at all frightening or horrifying: our Big Boy President casually admitted he had no idea what he was putting his fucked-up klan-hood signature on.

“we’re going to be investing in American quantum leadership like never before, to stay ahead of the pack. we’re way ahead right now, we’ll keep it that way. the second order I’m signing directs federal agencies to transition to what is called quantum— crypto— graphy. does anyone know what that is?”

it’s painfully obvious that Sundowning Grandpa Befuddlepants hasn’t the slightest clue what he’s signing. he doesn’t even pronounce ‘cryptography’ correctly. he has no fucking idea what ‘quantum cryptography’ is. all he knows is that he’s going to have ‘quantum leadership like never before.’ quantum leadership like few thought possible — maybe the greatest quantum leadership of all time.

big strong quantums with tears in their eyes.

now, I have no clue what ‘quantum cryptography’ is, either — but I have a good friend who does. that’s right, it’s Google’s janky six-fingered plagiarism robot. let’s call him Chuck. here’s what Six-Fingered Chuck told me.

Quantum cryptography is an ultra-secure encryption method that uses the fundamental laws of physics rather than complex mathematics to protect data.

well, ohhhhkay then. I presume that’s a good thing. but you do think Donny has any capacity to understand any of that? for fuck’s sake, he’s an imbecile who thinks magnets stop working when they get wet. lord knows what he imagines ‘quantum cryptography’ to be. he probably assumes it has something to do with the imaginary money he uses to pay for crimes.

yet here he is, unquestioningly signing whatever they put in front of him. hey, isn’t that what Donny never stops accusing Joe Biden of having done? goddammit, Donny’s accusing-confessing again, isn’t he?

what I really want to know is, what else are they giving Dear Leader to sign, that we don’t know about? because apparently he’s just a human autopen, scrawling that klan-hood signature all over the place.

let’s recap: we have a drooling moron with no impulse control, suffering from advanced cognitive collapse, happily signing whatever fuckbrained thing Nosferatu McGoebbels tells him to.

perfectly normal stuff, am I right? nothing to worry about, I’m sure.

what could possibly go wrong?

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here’s another perfectly normal thing that happens, I’m sure, in every seat of government all over the world: Donny got Big Mad at an inflatable frog.

Here is another example of a crazy pro-algae (likely paid) protestor.

The sign says, “First they came for the algae…” which is in reference to a famous post-WW2 statement about Germans not speaking out against the Nazis:

“…Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”

oh noooooes, it’s Amphifa!

I love how Donny feels the need to moronsplain Pastor Martin Niemöller’s famous poem — which makes me wonder: who wrote that post for him? there’s no fucking way Donny has the any clue what that poem references. you could tell him it’s about quantum cryptography and he’d just sit there, nodding his fat, empty head in agreement.

first they came for the quantum cryptographers…

he’s such a nitwit. this photo of the inflatable frog is all the proof Donny needs that Antifa’s ‘pro-algae’ wing is being paid to protest his clowntastically fucked-up pool.

oh please — nobody’s getting paid to do this shit. we’re all extremely happy to hate Donny for free.

Donny just keeps digging himself deeper with this whole Reflecting Pool debacle, because he has no ability to ever shut the fuck up about anything.

if Donny just kept his mouth closed for two whole days, and just quietly went about the business of fixing his fuck-up, the worthless scribblers of the corporate-controlled press would just move on to the next shiny object. but Donny can’t shut the fuck up.

in fact, here’s a five-and-a-half minute clip of Donny unable to shut the fuck up about the Reflecting Pool.

I’m not going to transcribe the whole thing, because no one should be subjected to that kind of punishment. but here are some excerpts.

reporter: “are the contractors who did the initial work for the reflecting pool, are they to blame for the current condition of it?”

Donny: “no, no, we had vandalism. vandals. it was all— you know, we have a hundred and— we have a— I think two hundred and ninety, three hundred foot slit. right through it. probably a box cutter … they went in there with a knife.”

wow, in the span of five seconds, that nonexistent ‘slit’ grows from one hundred to two hundred and ninety to three hundred feet. that some magical slit, right there.

* * *

reporter: “the National Guard and the police have been all over the mall. how would these vandals have gotten so close to do something like that? do you have any proof of that?”

Donny: “we didn’t have— we didn’t have a lot of them. who would think that somebody would go into a pool and take a knife and start cutting it?”

reporter: “but do you have proof of that?”

Donny: “yeah, yeah, they have proof?”

reporter: “do you have photos or videos?”

Donny: “well, let’s put it this way. when you have a three hundred and fifty — I think it’s three-fifty, not two-fifty, three hundred and fifty foot slit, from one end to the other. you think that’s proof?”

by the way, I asked Six-Fingered Chuck how wide the Reflecting Pool is, from one end to the other, and he said ‘between 160 feet and 175 feet in different sections.’

reporter: “but reporters have been down there today looking for that slit that you mentioned.”

Donny: “see the Parks Department. they’ll show it to you. see— see, uhhhhhh, the secretary. but I saw it.”

my god, he’s delusional. he’s out in the tall weeds, wandering where the buses don’t run, hallucinating proof of an imaginary ‘slit’ that keeps getting longer, every time he mentions it — and he says he’s seen it. Donny has no business presidenting, when his brain has turned to this much mush. he should be given a pudding cup and led off to bed.

kudos to the reporter who kept pushing back at Donny’s nonsense. we don’t get enough of that, these days.

but wait, let’s skip ahead to the best part, which comes at about 3:18 in the clip.

reporter: “part of what’s curious about this situation is, we stood here with you in April, when you first revealed the plans. in April, you showed us pictures of what you were going to do. you said you had a guy who was going to do it in about a week, for about a million dollars. it’s been two months and sixteen and a half million dollars.”

Donny: “are you ready? Barack Hussein Obama. ever hear of him?”

ohhhhh. Obama. well, that certainly explains everything. of course it was Obama. everything is always his fault.

now let’s compare and contrast that to Donny on May 4, 2026, bragging about how his renovated Reflecting Pool was going to be so amazing that you couldn’t cut it, even if you had a knife.

“this will last for at least fifty years. you’ll never have a leak. very strong. you couldn’t — if you had a knife, I don’t want to give anybody ideas, if you had a knife, you can’t even cut it. so strong. so powerful. powerful rubber.”

powerful rubber. this fucking numbskull just described rubber as ‘powerful.’

oh, and by the way — make no mistake about this, we know exactly who the vandal is who’s been single-handedly destroying Washington DC. it’s Donny himself.

just look at some of what this menace done.

holy shit. lock him the fuck up — and throw away the fucking key.

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and now I think it’s time to have us our Daily Claudia.

here’s Ms Spouse in Sylvan Glen Park, near our house, on June 22, 2016.

and here she’s enjoying the woodstove in our living room on November 26, 2017.

have a great Tuesday, everyone. don’t let some inflatable frog get the best of you.

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

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

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

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

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