it’s been a week since Donny’s been seen in public. what the hell is going on?

oh, you want an answer? go fuck yourself.

here we go again.

for the umpteenth time, Preznit Fuckwit goes to Walter Reed, because reasons, is declared to be in the perfectest health ever, and then disappears from view for an entire week — and if We the People ask for an explanation, we’re cordially invited to go fuck ourselves.

and nothing says ‘go fuck yourself’ more than forcing the press to try to get a straight answer from a scam diet pill huckster.

reporter: “if the president is in such perfect health, why does he keep going back in for checkups?”

Dr. Oz: “I think he likes the results. he does really well. he aces the test every single day.”

oh, Dear Leader aces the brain damage test, the one where you have to point to the camel? what a goddamned delightfully reassuring answer. and Donny loves the experience so much that he volunteers to go back for more? why, does the nice doctor give him a lollipop at the end of the checkup?

but let’s back up, because how is this even real? why is the Shit-blizzard of Oz — so named because everything out of his mouth is a blizzard of shit — hosting the daily White House press briefing?

I’ll tell you why. it’s because fuck you, that’s why.

seriously, it’s a ginormous ‘fuck you’ to the press to trot out Oz as a stand-in for the on-maternity-leave Karoline Leavitt, and make everyone in the room pretend he’s a serious person.

I mean, it isn’t as if there aren’t other qualified Press Office staffers who could take Karoline’s place — but fuck it, says the White House, we don’t even care any more. and the worthless scribblers of the corporate-controlled press just sit there and take it — because Donny’s handlers have normalized unserious buffoonery.

‘where has the president been for the last week’ is a legitimate question, and the press has a right to ask it. but apparently they don’t have the right to get an honest answer. so why even bother putting an actual human being behind the Press Room podium? I’m not joking — instead of the Shit-blizzard, how about a bear riding a unicycle?

why not? how could this be any less informative than Oz? maybe the bear could even balance a banana on its nose as it shits out nonsensical answers about how much Dear Leader is super-horny for going to the doctor.

no wait — even better, how about a mime trapped in an invisible box?

I’m loving this idea. the press can shout out questions and then try to guess what the mime is answering.

how would that be worse than Dr. Oz pontificating about how much Donny adores pointing at that camel?

but do prattle on, Oz, we’re hanging on every word.

“that amount of energy and mental acuity does not exist in a vacuum. you have to have a vessel to carry it, and the president has a unique ability to just keep going at all hours of the day and with remarkable strength.”

holy shit, Oz. say hi to Lindsay Graham while you’re up there in Dear Leader’s ass.

the ‘amount of energy and mental acuity’? let’s do a quick fact check:

no, Dear Leader wasn’t sleeping. he was just resting his eyes for twenty straight minutes, while filling the Oval Bordello with the piquant scent of ass music.

let’s get real. Donny is a mess. he can no longer stay awake during the day. he can’t walk a straight line. both of his hands are rotting away. his bloated cankles resemble moldy eggplants, and his brain went fuckity-bye ages ago.

and now, he hasn’t been seen in public for a week. We the People deserve an answer. oh, wait, what am I saying? this is the Donnyverse we’re talking about. we don’t deserve shit — and if you need us, We the People will be over here, fucking ourselves.

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it’s infuriating how willing the worthless scribblers are to take ‘Donny loves going to the doctor’ as ‘he’s got remarkable strength’ as acceptable answers. imagine that Joe Biden had appeared lost and befuddled in public, and then disappeared from view for days on end. how do you think the press would have reacted? oh wait, you don’t have to imagine. after Joe Biden’s one disastrous debate performance, the press had a fucking field day, demanding Biden resign immediately, for the good of the country.

for fuck’s sake, it’s been two years since the debate, and the press is still sniffing around Joe’s pant leg. look at this. it’s not a screen shot from July 2024. it’s from yesterday.

Jake Tapper can fuck off straight into the sea.

letting Oz cosplay as a press officer makes about as much sense as putting a piss-drunk Fox News weekend chat show host in charge of the military — or, for that matter, putting a slumlord in charge of national intelligence. which brings us quite smoothly to the other atrocity of the day.

reporter: “can you respond to criticism from Republicans on Trump’s decision to tap Bill Pulte, who has no intel experience, as acting DNI?”

Dr Oz: “I trust the president’s judgement. he’s a very sharp and quick study of people, their emotional abilities and their ability to persevere in the face of hardship.”

gather ’round, ladies and gents. it’s time to meet your new Acting Director of National Intelligence, replacing the shitcanned Tulsi Gabbard.

WASHINGTON – President Donald Trump appointed Bill Pulte, director of the Federal Housing Finance Agency, as the new acting director of national intelligence, tapping a trusted ally with no previous experience in an intelligence role to replace Tulsi Gabbard.

Bill Pulte, you’ll be shocked to hear, has absolutely zero experience in the field of intel. what he is, is one of Donny’s real estate cronies from back in the day.

now, I can hear you out there, asking, ‘but Uncle Jeff, isn’t Director of Intel, like, a really important job? shouldn’t it go someone who has at least the slightest passing knowledge of what the job even entails?’

oh you sweet, innocent babes in the woods. none of that ‘Bill Pulte has no fucking clue what he’s doing’ shit matters. what matters is that Pulte is 100% loyal to Dear Leader, and he’ll do whatever he’s told, without question. that’s it. loyalty — that’s the bottom line.

you know and I know that the mime could do a better job as DNI than Bill Pulte.

what’s that you’re saying, Baptiste? Vlad Putin is trapped in an invisible box? is that a metaphor for Ukraine?

but Donny has no guarantee that the mime would be loyal, and that’s why he gave the job to his slumlord bestie instead.

that’s why, instead of a competent administration, we have Donny’s Confederacy of Sewer Clowns, who, from dawn til dusk, fuck shit up.

loyalty is all that matters, and it’s how we ended up with a reality show never-was in charge of making sure airplanes don’t fall out of the sky. it’s how we ended up with the whale-head-chainsawing Marvelous Mister Measles in charge of our nation’s healthcare. it’s how we ended up with a plumber’s apprentice with anger management issues in charge of homeland security. it’s how we ended up with a bourbon-saturated podcast bro as head of the FBI. it’s how we ended up with one of Donny’s personal ambulance chasers as Attorney General.

and, to repeat myself, it’s how we ended up with a Fox News dunk-take clown as Secretary of Death.

oh, and while we’re on the subject of the dunk-tank clown: does anyone know how good Bill Pulte is at handling a skateboard?

maybe the Shit-blizzard of Oz knows that answer to that.

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fuck all that noise, let’s have us some Daily Claudia.

here are a couple more photos from the Scott and Kathy Collection™.

this one is Ms Spouse and her bff Kathy, in front of the restaurant Harvest on Hudson, July 1, 2021.

now look at these two weirdos, playing dress-up on May 24, 2020. we’re on our way to a covid-era socially-distanced lawn party at Scott and Kathy’s. we clean up good, don’t we?

have a great Wednesday, everyone. try not to get trapped in an invisible box.

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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.