convicted felon vandalizes White House, because fuck you, that’s why

how is this even happening?

I’d like to think that after all the bullshit that’s been shoved in our faces over the last ten months, I’m beyond the ability to be shocked by anything new this vulgar pig perpetrates — but for the love of everything sacred, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?

yesterday, out of the clear blue, with no warning, backhoes rolled up to the White House and started knocking the shit out of the East Wing.

what the fuck?

we were promised this wasn’t going to happen. remember when America’s Mad King first announced his plan for that gaudy ninety-thousand-square-foot ballroom? he swore up and down that he wouldn’t touch the existing White House. here’s what he said.

“It won’t interfere with the current building. It won’t be. It’ll be near it but not touching it — and pays total respect to the existing building, which I’m the biggest fan of,” Trump said during an executive order signing in July. “It’s my favorite. It’s my favorite place. I love it.”

‘near it but not touching it.’ well, that promise just flew out a demolished East Wing window.

we should have known that Preznit Fuckwit was lying to us. word-adjacent noises were seeping out of his rancid anus-mouth. that should have been our first clue.

after a weekend where Donny posted AI-generated slop of him symbolically shitting on America, he is now literally shitting on America. because fuck you, that’s why.

after taking a wrecking ball to America, he’s now taking a wrecking ball to the White House. because fuck you, that’s why.

but wait — can Donny do this? no. of fucking course he can’t. there are rules that govern this shit.

Major physical or architectural changes are not up to the president alone.

The White House is a National Historic Landmark, protected by law and managed by the National Park Service.

Permanent alterations (like demolishing walls, expanding wings, or changing the façade) would require Congressional authorization, since the building is federal property.

hold on, what am I talking about, rules? how stupid of me. Donny couldn’t give a fuck about rules. he’s A Very Special Boy Who Gets To Do Whatever He Wants.

besides, who’s going to stop him?

as with much of our government, there are rules and regulations, but no enforcement mechanism. there’s no penalty for flattening the East Wing. no one’s coming to arrest Donny over this. the people who wrote that statutes governing alterations to the White House thought it would be sufficient just to say ‘don’t be an asshole.’

the people who wrote those rules never met Donny Convict. ‘ask permission first’ is a bridge too far for this shitwaffle.

so much of our government was built on the honor system. our founders couldn’t fathom that one day far in the future, Americans would be reckless enough to elect a vulgar pig with no sense of honor.

credit: Jesse Duquette

no one thought we’d have a king again, only this time he’s really fucking dumb.

Donny has nothing but contempt for We the People. he doesn’t think twice about bringing a demolition crew onto the White House lawn — without so much as a heads-up to the public — and have them unceremoniously start tearing shit down.

take another look at the atrocity taking place.

this is not how you dismantle a historic building, by rolling a backhoe up to it and smashing away, with no thought of carefully preserving anything of value.

it’s how you knock down an abandoned factory. but our vulgar Shitstain-in-Chief couldn’t care less about the distinction.

we’ve been down this road before. here’s a super fun story from New York’s recent past. when the department store Bonwit Teller went out of business in 1979, Donny bought their flagship building, with the plan of demolishing it and putting up that hideous gold-plated tower that now stands in its place.

New Yorkers went fucking ballistic, because the Bonwit Teller Building was a historic landmark.

New Yorkers loved the shit out of that building. it was an art deco masterpiece.

The “stupendously luxurious” entrance sharply contrasted the severity of the building itself. The entrance was “like a spilled casket of gems: platinum, bronze, hammered aluminum, orange and yellow faience, and tinted glass backlighted at night” The American Architect magazine described it in 1929 as “a sparkling jewel in keeping with the character of the store.”

Over time, the 15-foot tall limestone relief panels, depicting nearly nude women dancing, at the top of the Fifth Avenue facade, became a “Bonwit Teller signature.”

to quell public outrage over the demolition of a beloved landmark, Donny promised to preserve the limestone artworks, and donate them to the Museum of Modern Art.

let’s let an eyewitness describe what happened next.

When I looked outside, I realized that a cluster of workmen were on a scaffold in the process of destroying the Art Deco limestone bas relief with masonry saws and jackhammers.

This piece of art and history being drilled to bits was destroyed right in front of my eyes.

Suddenly all the gallery goers in the room noticed too, going over to the large windows in disbelief, as we watched the demolition in absolute helpless horror. The sculptures fell to the ground to crack into smithereens.

Then someone in the room muttered loud enough for all to hear: “That fucking bastard.”

No one had to ask who he was referring to.

It was Donald Trump.

that fucking bastard is now president, and he’s defacing the shit out of the White House, because he can. because fuck you, that’s why.

hey, where do you think Donny learned to be such a ginormous landmark-destroying asshole? you’ll never guess.

In 1966, his father, Fred Trump, tore down a 19th-century amusement park in Coney Island. Trump père threw a party at the demo site, complete with bikini-clad, hard-hat-wearing models. He handed out bricks for people to chuck at the glass front of the park’s pavilion, a beloved local attraction known as “Funny Face.”

‘here’s your brick, bro. fire away.’

what a scamp, that Fred Trump. what a madcap funster.

this is all so fucking maddening. the White House belongs to We the People. it’s not Donny’s personal plaything, to destroy as he sees fit.

it’s one thing to tart up the Oval Office with so much gold spray-painted tat it looks like a bordello gift shop. the next president could just pry that shit off the walls, and we could all try to pretend it was just a bad dream.

it’s another thing entirely to permanently alter the silhouette of Washington, DC, with an ugly, oversized monstrosity that towers over the current stately building.

who needs this shit? who asked for it?

make no mistake, this vulgar dance hall isn’t for We the People. we’re never going to be invited into it. it’s for the exclusive pleasure of the oligarchs and plutocrats who are shoveling millions into Donny’s pockets.

it’s just like that fugly cement abomination that used to be the Rose Garden. it’s no longer for We the People. Donny’s turned it into a social club for his fatcat cronies. he calls it the Rose Garden Club.

according to Donny’s official schedule, Donny’s holding two Rose Garden Club events today.

holy shit. could we at least stop calling it the Rose Garden Club? there’s no rose garden in sight. all that shit has been paved over. can we at least be honest and call it the Parking Lot Club?

so, here we are. while the government is shut down, and millions of Americans are going without paychecks, while farmers are going bankrupt, while the prices of goods and services skyrocket — while you struggle to feed your family — Donny’s just partying away on his stupid parking lot, because he can. because fuck you, that’s why.

let them eat ballrooms.

meanwhile, sane countries are doing shit that we can only dream about.

Japan’s going to have their first woman leader.

we had two chances to elect our first woman president, and both times we fucked it up. why? because the first one had an email server, and the second couldn’t prove she’d ever worked at McDonald’s.

ace job, America. take a victory lap.

now look at France. they actually sent a former president to prison — for getting caught doing election crimes.

The former French president Nicolas Sarkozy has been jailed in Paris, after a court sentenced him to five years for criminal conspiracy over a scheme to obtain election campaign funds from the regime of the late Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi.

gee. you know, we had a former president who got caught doing crimes in order to try to remain in power. did we chuck him the fuck into prison and throw away the key?

no, we did not. our criminal president is back in that tarted-up Oval Office, demolishing historic landmarks and holding Parking Lot Parties.

we really do live in the shittiest timeline.

here’s what I want: for the next president to hand out bricks to throw at Donny’s tacky dance hall. and I want to be first in line.

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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.

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