children don’t give a fuck about Joe Biden’s autopen, you stupid shit

one day, three fucktacular clown shows

this fucking guy — Donny Convict. he’s relentless. he can’t be reasoned with, or bargained with — he’s the goddamned Terminator.

he’s a burst trash bag of personality defects and pathologies, and he’s not happy unless he’s ruined everyone’s day by inflicting himself on all of us. nobody gets to walk away unscathed. not children, not We the People — and not even the astronauts aboard the Artemis II spacecraft.

Donny had three events on his schedule yesterday — and he found a way to turn each one of them into a five-alarm crazypants shit-show.

yesterday morning was the annual White House Easter Egg Roll. let’s watch as Dear Leader gives some very lucky children a very fucked-up history lesson.

Donny: “Biden would use the autopen.”

child: “what?”

Donny: “he’d have an autopen follow him. Joe Biden. he didn’t sign— he was incapable of signing his name. so they’d follow him around with this big machine. you know what it was called? an autopen. and he’d have the autopen sign for him. he’d take the paper, hand it to his guys, sign it with an autopen. not too good, right? who likes the fake news? does anybody like the fake news?”

oh, come on. these are children, you asshole. they’re sweet and innocent and they have their whole lives in front of them. there’s no need to poison their minds with hate. they don’t give a shit about your lifetime of accumulated petty grudges.

what a ginormous prick Donny is. can you imagine having to grow up around this monster? no wonder all of his hell-spawn are as screwed up as he is.

wouldn’t you have loved for there to have been one precocious child present to have stood up and asked ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’

I’ll bet you that every one of those children at the Egg Roll has a more fully-formed sense of morality than our Psychopath-in-Chief. he truly believes that only he gets to decide what a war crime is.

reporter: “[hitting power plants] could be a war crime.”

Donny: “I’m not worried about it. you know what’s a war crime? a nuclear weapon. allowing a sick country with demented leadership to have a nuclear weapon.”

wait, allowing ‘a sick country with demented leadership to have a nuclear weapon’ is a war crime? everyone who voted to put these fuckfaces in the White House is guilty, then.

should any of us be surprised that this immoral shitweasel isn’t worried about being held accountable for a stupid little thing like a war crime?

Donny’s regular-crimed his way through his entire fucked-up life, and has pretty much gotten away with everything — so it’s only natural that he now imagines he’ll get away with bombing the shit out of Iran as well. he’s the Very Special Boy Who Gets To War-Crime All He Wants.

as always, it’s fucking maddening.

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after the Egg Roll was over, the next item on the agenda was a hastily-called press conference that so Donny could congratulate himself and take credit for the successful rescue of the fighter jet pilot who had been shot down over Iran.

“we were a little concerned, we said boy, if they don’t get in and get it up fast, we’re sittin’ in— and that’s— called ‘Iran Prime,’ right general? that’s— that’s where the whole bed is. and here we are sittin’ there waitin’ for— a plane. but they came in so fast and so hard and these guys knew exactly what— let’s go, come on, get in, let’s go — bwaaaa! they came one right after another. not at same time. they don’t want to come at the same time. they had to come right after each other. they didn’t have any room. there was barely any room to land. a tiny little patch of very wet— earth? and sand.”

I love how this low-wattage moron feels the need to explain how planes can’t land at the same time — like we’re the idiots.

I swear, it’s like watching Buck Turgidson prance about the War Room in Dr. Strangelove.

you might as well be listening to a small child hopped up on too many sugary snacks excitedly describe the plot of an action movie. can’t we just take Donny and Piss-Drunk Pete and put them in a room somewhere where they can’t hurt anyone, give them a pile of plastic army men, and let them get their rocks off by acting out their infantile fantasies?

I should get a Four Seasons Total Landscaping Peace Prize just for thinking of that.

now get ready for one of the most depraved lies you’ll ever hear seep from Donny’s rancid anus-mouth. here it is: ‘the Iranian people want to be war-crimed to death.’

and how does Donny know this? because they told him so.

reporter: “you said Iranians would be mad if you stopped these attacks, but why would they want you to blow up their infrastructure to cut off their power? wouldn’t that be punishing Iranians for the actions of the regime?”

Trump: “they would be willing to s— they would be will— and it’s suffering. they would be willing to suffer that, in order to have freedom. uh, the Iranians have— and we’ve had numerous intercepts — ‘please keep bombing’ — bombs that are dropping near their homes, ‘please keep bombing. do it.’”

I’m sorry, but ‘they would be willing to suffer’ sounds like exactly something a rapist would say. when you’re president, they let you — am I right, Donny?

at the risk of wearing out this routine, I need to ask the age-old question: are these Iranians who are ‘willing to suffer’ in the room with us right now? are they big and strong? do their massive biceps glisten in the rays of the afternoon sun, as they wipe the tears of gratitude from their eyes and fire off these ‘intercepts’ to ‘please keep bombing’?

what kind of sick sack of shit even thinks up a lie like this? do you think Donny made it up on his own, or is he just repeating something he overheard Piss-Drunk Pete mumbling while face-down in a puddle of whiskey?

at the end of the day, does it really matter? they’re all bloodthirsty maniacs, every single one of them.

to answer the question I’m anticipating you all want to ask next, no. not one reporter stood up to ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’

but it sure as hell sounded as if this reporter was itching to.

reporter: “yesterday, on your Truth Social, you called the Iranians ‘crazy bastards.’

Donny: “true.”

reporter: “what is your response to critics who say—”

Donny: “I don't care about critics.”

reporter: “what is your response to critics who say it’s your mental health that should perhaps be examined as the war continues?”

Donny: “well, I haven’t heard that. but if that’s the case you’re gonna have to have more people like me.”

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oh, but America’s Mad King wasn’t finished. he had one more item on his agenda.

yesterday, the astronauts aboard Artemis II traveled farther away from Earth than any human in history — but even that wasn’t distance enough to avoid Preznit Fuckwit. he phoned into the spacecraft so he could hog some of their glory.

after listening to Dear Leader blither incoherently about ‘what if Wayne Gretzky had the courage to be an astronaut,’ the mystified astronauts had no freaking clue how to respond.

“well, I have to say I spoke to a very special person, Wayne Gretzky, who I think you know, the great one, and I spoke to your prime minister, many other friends I have in Canada, they are so proud of you, and you have a lot of courage, heh heh, I’m not sure if they’d want to do that I’m not even sure if the great one would want to do that, to be honest with you, but you have a lot of courage doing what you’re doing, a lot of bravery and a lotta— a lotta genius, but they’re very very proud of you.”

what follows is a full minute of awkward silence as the crew members float there — because what are you going to say? I suppose one of the astronauts could have picked up a random floating object and asked ‘is this a piece of your brain?’

maybe it’s just me, but I’m thinking ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ would have been the perfect ice-breaker.

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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.