race cars for Donny, a cush job for Lindsey Graham’s sister, and fuck-all for you and me

just another twenty-four hours in the United States of Stupidity

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.

“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.

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

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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.

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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.