the Pocket Nazi is running for president, and other tales from the dumbfuck

it’s inconceivable!

once again, everything in the news is so unbelievably idiotic that I don’t even know where to begin. so today, I’m just going to drag out the Big Wheel of Moron™, give it a spin, and see where it lands. ready? here we go.

holy shit, the Itsy-Bitsy Fascist is back in the news. remember Obergruppenführer Greg Bovino? he was the diminutive dude in charge of ICE, when they were fucking shit up on the streets of Minneapolis.

Bovino’s thing was that he really leaned into this whole business of being a Nazi, complete with the stormtrooper trench coat and the Third Reich haircut.

Obergruppenführer Greg Bovino was such a public embarrassment as the Literal Face of Fascism that his boss Tom Homan finally had no choice but to send him to a big farm upstate, where he’d have lots of room to run around and teargas children.

so, why is Bovino back in the news? because he’s running for president. no, really, he is. stop snickering — this isn’t a joke.

I fucking shit you not, this is the image that greets you when you go to the Bovino 2028 home page.

oh my god, Greg, are kidding us? homey, I’ve got the ghost of Heinrich Himmler on the phone right now. he says to tone it the fuck down, you’ve gone way too over the top with that subliminal skull imagery.

the Pocket Nazi’s platform is a big ball of well of course it is.

Confirming that he was considering a presidential run on Monday, Bovino wrote on social media: “My one and only priority is deporting the 106 million illegals who are here. That’s it.”

what a minute, don’t we already have that now? how is Nosferatu McGoebbels not suing Greg for copyright infringement?

Drop-Kick Greg hopes to hump the leg of the American electorate — but he’s forgetting one important thing: he hasn’t a snowball’s chance of winning. everyone hate his fucking guts, because he’s gone Full Nazi. pro tip: never go Full Nazi. decent people reject that shit.

need proof? let’s revisit what happened back in January, when Bite-Size Bovino tried to take a piss in a Minneapolis Target store — he was immediately dogpiled and screamed at by shoppers.

“you’re a fucking bum, you. you’re a bitch. and if your wife’s got a problem, fuck her, too. you guys are all bitches. you can’t do shit to me. you can’t do a thing. get the fuck out of here. get the fuck out. nobody wants you here. right. get the fuck out. walk the fuck you, you stupid bitches. get the fuck out of here. the fuck out of here. coward. you’re a fucking coward, bitch. you’re a fucking bitch. fuck you. hold on, babe, I’m on the phone with these bitch-ass niggas. get the fuck out of here. get the fuck out of here, you stupid bitches. you’re a fucking coward piece of shit. fuck you. and if you didn’t have a gun or a vest, I would beat the shit out of you. take that fucking badge off, and that fucking gun, and see what happens to you. you shut the fuck up, you’re not fucking tough. you’re a bitch and get the fuck out, you fucking pussy. you fucking bitch-ass white boys. I’ll fucking spit on you. fucking get out of here. get the fuck out. shut the fuck up. get the fuck out of here. get the fuck out of here.”

oh, my virgin ears. mercy me.

yeah, I don’t that guy in Target store is going to be voting for Greg.

well, that was fun. let’s give that Big Wheel of Moron™ another spin. here we go.

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CNN’s Manu Raju: “but what evidence is there to prove the California election is rigged?”

Holy Mike Johson: “look, some of these efforts are so diabolical and so far upstream it’s impossible to prove. but I think everybody knows instinctively that something is wrong here.”

oh, please do fuck all the way off, Holy Mike.

Republicans have worked themselves into an enormous hissy right now, because their candidates are losing bigly in California. it’s inconceivable to them that their hand-picked MAGA-soaked dipshits can’t manage a win in America’s most-liberal state — and so all these piss-soaked diaper-babies are screaming their heads off about how everything is rigged.

the cultists cannot wrap their warped little minds around the fact that their pretty-boy reality-show never-was Spencer Pratt lost to progressive Democrat Nithya Raman in the primary for Mayor of Los Angeles — one of the most liberal cities in the entire damned country.

it’s inconceivable!

of course there’s no proof that California’s elections were rigged, because — spoiler alert — there was no rigging. Republican candidates lost because they fucking sucked. but try explaining that to the MAGAverse. they don’t need any stinking proof of rigging, because they have something better than proof: they have vibes. listen to Holy Mike prattle on about how the skulduggery is ‘diabolical and so far upstream it’s impossible to prove,’ but he knows that ‘instinctively that something is wrong.’

yeah, right. dry your eyes, you sore loser.

you know what I know instinctively? that Holy Mike is a limp-dicked handful of dung. I mean, I can’t prove it, but, y’know, instincts matter.

okay, let’s give that Moron Wheel a third spin.

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Lindsey Graham, in his victory speech, compares President Trump to God and says, “Mr. President, you’re not far behind God.”

“Mr. President, you're not far behind God.”

South Carolina has been electing Lindsey Graham since 2003.

obsequious much, Lindsey?

I think I’ve figured out the diabolical reason why Dear Leader is always sitting with that weird, leaning-forward posture. I think it’s because Old Lindz’s entire body is lodged up his large intestine.

looks about right, doesn’t it? once again, I can’t prove it, but, y’know, instincts matter.

ok, one final spin of the Big Wheel—

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as the noted British philosopher David St. Hubbins so wisely counseled us, ‘it’s such a fine line between stupid and clever.’

with that in mind, check out the dumbfuckery perpetrated by Republican Rep Rob Wittman. when confronted by a Meidas Touch reporter and asked ‘what is Mike Johnson’s secret plan to cut Social Security,’ he takes out his phone and, for 90 clownishly ludicrous seconds, pretends to take a call.

I mean, come on. it’s so diabolically obvious that Wittman is speaking to absolutely no one at all — the display of his phone changes every time his cheek makes contact with the screen.

let’s gif the fuck out of that shit.

ten out of ten. chef’s kiss. no notes.

so, is Wittman being stupid or clever? in this instance, I’m going to cut the bro some slack — because why can’t it be both?

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let’s get out of here with some Daily Claudia.

here’s Ms Spouse, back at Stonecrop Garden in Cold Spring, NY, on October 27, 2017.

and here she is on the Hudson River on July 15, 2017.

have a great Wednesday, everyone. try not to be the reason Dear Leader sits like he’s got a full load in his drawers.

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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.