shh! don’t wake the sleeping fuckwit, presidenting is hard

Don Snorelone rides again

returning to the White House after five days spent cheating at his failing Scotland golf motel, Sundowning Grandpa Befuddlepants got right back to work — by which I mean that the narcoleptic old fart factory fell fast asleep in public. again.

that’s Donny, yesterday, at some White House dog-and-pony show called Making Health Technology Great Again. what the fuck does that even mean? they’re just putting random words together now, bookended by ‘make’ and ‘great again.’ by what metric are we evaluating the past and present greatness of health technology? how is anyone supposed to take this nonsense seriously? come on, that’s Dr. Oz up there, the cheesy scam artist who sold fake diet pills to anyone gullible enough to buy them.

Dr. Oz is now the Administrator for the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, and he and Secretary of Health and Human Services Bobby Brainworms Jr are going to ‘make health technology great again.’

fuck us, we’re so doomed.

anyway, look at the sleepy baby. he’s so tuckered out, he can barely keep his eyes open.

for those of you keeping score at home, Donny has now fallen asleep [checks notes] every freaking time he’s had to sit at one of these roundtable events. as soon as anyone else starts speaking, Donny gets clobbered upside the head by Mister Sandman, and off he goes into the Land of Fucked Up Dreams.

he also fell right to sleep at the Pope’s funeral.

for fuck’s sake, Donny even dropped off to dreamland at his own criminal trial.

remember that? every morning, Donny would bark at the press outside the courtroom and whine about how unfair it was to held accountable for paying hush money to a porn star and then writing it off as a campaign expense.

after he was done ranting like a lunatic, he’d go inside, take his seat at the defendant’s table, close his eyes and start snoring audibly as he filled the courtroom with the pungent aroma of ass music.

people were all ‘who does that?’

well, it turns out that brain scientists know exactly who does that. Dr. John Gartner, who spent 28 years as a professor of psychiatry at Johns Hopkins University Medical School, has an explanation:

“To uncontrollably fall asleep during the day is something that’s very common among patients with dementia.”

A defendant falling asleep in court is “literally so uncommon, it’s basically unheard of.” Gartner said he’s spoken with several lawyer friends who each told him that they’ve never seen a defendant falling asleep in court during their entire careers.

and that was over two years ago. Donny’s deteriorated so much further, and we’ve all just normalized it.

along with the glitching, the weird posture, and the nonsensical gibberish about boats and batteries and sharks, Donny falling asleep in public has now become one more thing we shrug our shoulders about, and go ‘yeah, that happened.’

Dr. Gartner even has an explanation for all the butt music, because of course he does. it’s medical science!

“This thing about the farting — obviously, it was a big joke on Twitter and late-night comedy and whatnot, but again, we really have to put these things into clinical context. This means something,” Gartner said. “He seems to be losing control of basic biological functions right in front of our eyes.”

Gartner emphasized that both the napping and the farting are “consistent with a diagnosis of dementia” because both “would suggest that he’s losing control over his basic bodily functions — sleep, wake, excretion.”

‘he seems to be losing control of basic biological functions right in front of our eyes.’ hey Jake Tapper, is that bad, when the president of the United States can no longer control what goes on down south of his border? come on, you’re the self-appointed expert on presidential fitness-for-office — do us a solid and help us out here, bro.

Donny did wake up long enough to play a round of Let’s Pull Numbers Out Of Our Bloated Ass.

Donny: “we’re gonna have the richest economy you’ve ever seen. we have money coming in that we’ve never even thought about, at numbers that nobody’s ever seen before. we have a deal with Japan where they're going to pay us 550 billion dollars. We have a deal with Europe where they're doing 750 billion plus 400 billion, plus 300 billion, and many other countries. it’s wise, relatively two big ones.”

fact check:

bullshit. there are no set-in-stone commitments for any of those countries to send us one red cent. there’s just Donny’s say-so.

when asked for comment, Japan’s chief negotiator pretty much blurted out whatever the Japanese is for “SQUIRREL!”

The FT also reports conflicting messages between Washington and Tokyo as to whether that $550 billion commitment is, as team Trump sees it, a guarantee or, as Japan’s negotiator Ryosei Akazawa sees it, an upper limit and not “a target or commitment.”

Donny pulled this shit all the time during his first reign. he’d announce that some country or other was going to invest eleventy pickledillion dollars into factories in Wisconsin, praise himself for being the greatest dealmaker in the history of the universe — and then nothing would come of it.

look, it’s been hella fun to watch the journos wake up for once and pester Donny about his dead pedo bestie —

reporter: “what did you think Epstein was stealing those women for?”

Donny: [ignores, walks away]

but come on, how about calling Donny out when he makes shit up about all the trade deals that still have yet to materialize?

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speaking of dead pedo besties, here’s the White House’s attempt at damage control over Donny’s recent footmouthery about how he and Epstein used to fight over teenage girls.

oh sweet Jesus, they’re sending him out in public with children.

yes, I know those are Donny’s own grandchildren, but come on — do you think he actually knows their names? they’re just props to Donny — and I’m sorry, but after all the stories that have been in the news this week, seeing Donny walk hand-in-hand with children is just super fucking creepy.

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it’s been a minute, so let’s check in on the rake-steppingest cum-sock in Congress, James Comer Fudd, and see what supreme self-ownage he’s been up to.

it seems that Fudd has worked himself into yet another in an endless series of Big Mads because he still can’t figure out how old Joe Biden is — and he can’t get anyone to tell him.

“it’s almost like a cult ... they put makeup on him to conceal his true decline to America.”

holy shit, my irony meter just made squealing sounds I’ve never heard, and then burst into flames.

whatever you say, James. here’s a file photo of Joe Biden tarted up like some demented rodeo clown.

and here’s one of Joe Biden’s most hardcore fans.

yup, it sure is a cult, all right.

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and lastly, there are a lot of books in this world I’m never going to read, but I’m having a hard time deciding which of these two soon-to-be-published works I’m never going to read the most.

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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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