this week in stupid: July 11 edition
MAGA explains it, Donny disdains it, and so much more...
as another stupid week comes to a close here in America, let’s look back at the dumbest fucking shit that happened.
monday: whoopie ti yi wut
Canadian Conservative opposition leader Pierre Poilievre has a message for all you namby-pamby liberal wussies.
“we will reinstill a warrior culture, not a woke culture.”
bro, no one heard a word you just said. we’re all just staring at you and wondering, ‘who dresses you? who the fuck let you go out in public like that?’
you look like the stripper at a drunken, western-themed bachelorette party.
what time does the show start, my man?
tuesday: I’m sorry, a what got what and explained it to who?
now here’s a headline for the ages.
yes, I know what you’re thinking, because I’m thinking the exact same thing: ‘how are all those words allowed to be together in the same sentence?’
but we have photographic evidence.
you may remember Gian Rachtelli. he’s the MAGA moron who got arrested last week at Donny’s Big Empty Shitpile on the National Mall for ahem allegedly having his hands down his pants and strummin’ on the ol’ banjo.
who better to spill your guts to about it than a fucking puppet?
and because this whole story is basically MAGA Mad Libs, Rachtelli blamed the whole thing on Antifa, because of course he did.
Rachtelli said in an interview that Antifa was probably behind it.
At the time, of course, he was talking to a puppet.
“Is it just a misunderstanding, or were you set up?” asked Puppet Edgar on his YouTube show earlier this week.
“I’ve seen Antifa do crazier things than that.” Rachtelli told Edgar.
look, I just got off the phone with Mitch McConnell. we had a very pleasant 20-minute chat. Mitch basically said that stoking your yam in public was a dumbfuck thing to do — and if you got caught doing it, at least be man enough to own up to it. don’t blame your stupidity on an imaginary boogeyman.
wednesday: open this
three cheers for MAGA ‘prophet’ Donna Rigney. she’s just done Dear Leader a solid.
“when we were all done, the next day, father explained to me, he said now that there’s a portal open over the White House and over Mar-a-Lago, Donald Trump was going to easily be able to get intel from the Holy Spirit.”
what is it with portals? MAGA is fucking in love with portals.
first of all, this Donna Rigney character already claimed to have opened a portal over the White House for Dear Leader a year and a half ago. how many freaking portals does Donny need? did the first one get clogged up with dirty diapers? come on, Donny — tighten that shit up.
then there’s Florida Congresswoman An Appalling Lunatic, who honestly believes that interdimensional beings are using portals to zip in and out of our reality at all hours of the day.
and finally, there’s South Dakota House Representative Joe Donnell. according to Donnell — and I shit you not — Mount Rushmore is a portal for demonic entities to enter and spread communism throughout the country. I mean, obviously.
that’s why we need Dear Leader up there, to keep watch over that demonic shit and prevent it from happening.
but I’m more interested in finding the portal where these weirdos are coming from, and shutting it right the fuck down.
seriously.
thursday: what would Jesus sing about?
oh look, wingnut pastor Brian Sauvé has graced us with a song about a ‘liberated’ woman who died alone, sad and unfulfilled — because she chose an education and independence over being an illiterate tradwife and mother. you’re welcome, America.
don’t click that link, unless you’re a masochist who get off on having their ears tormented. just feast your eyes on some of the lyrics.
she felt mighty high with that college degree
and her little apartment, her job and her freedom
she wouldn’t be anyone’s marionette
didn’t need anyone’s strings buried there on her back
actually, that sounds pretty awesome. what’s the problem?
said girl don’t you settle down, home is a cell
just get on this pill and oh hey, here’s another
oh wait — I see where this is going.
this one’ll make certain you’re never a mother
this one’s for the pleasure. this one’s for the pain
and this one’s for the darkness that’s settling in
and this one’s for the end when you’re dying alone
get it? get it? don’t make Mitch McConnell call you up and explain it to you. he’s got better things to do with his time. his dance card is full.
isn’t that just great, though? in my lifetime, we’ve gone from the Singing Nun —
to the caterwauling Christofascist.
lucky us.
friday: the further adventures of Some Fucking Idiot™
on Friday, some fucking idiot’s handlers kept him once again in his hidey-hole and out of the public eye — but the fucking idiot still managed to stink up the whole day.
the first thing he did was announce that he wasn’t signing the Housing Bill, because he was still Big Mad that Republicans continue to refuse to advance his ‘Save America Act.’
be refusing to sign a popular bill that was going to become law anyway, the fucking idiot denied himself a free win — because it’s more important for the fucking idiot to be a spite-fueled piss-baby.
and also because fucking idiots gonna fucking idiot.
the fucking idiot then declared that the ceasefire is OVER!
the fucking idiot then warned Iran that if they assassinate him, he’s left word to ‘literally bomb them at levels they’ve never seen before.’ levels like few thought possible. maybe the greatest levels of all time.
big strong levels with tears in their eyes.
another thing that happened in the Oval Bordello yesterday was that John Rich got sworn in as Special Envoy for American Landowners.
now, I have no fucking clue who John Rich is or what a Special Envoy for American Landowners is — but I am a Responsible Journalist and Everything™, so I asked Google’s janky six-fingered plagiarism robot to explain it to me.
The Special Envoy for American Landowners is a federal advocacy position appointed by President Trump within the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA). Country music artist John Rich holds this position.
so basically Donny invented an imaginary job, and give it to some rando country singer. why him? was Pierre Poilievre unavailable?
come on, what says ‘Special Envoy for American Landowners’ more than some Canadian goofball tarted up in cosmic cowboy cosplay?
oh, and holy shit — look at what the fucking idiot has done to the White House now.
it’s so rinky-dink and tacky — and it’s not the fucking idiot’s personal property to trash up as he sees fit.
finally, near midnight, the fucking idiot reiterated his unhinged threat to bomb the living fuck out of Iran.
‘praise be to Allah’? what in the actual fuck?
and because the press wasn’t allowed at any point to get near the fucking idiot, not one reporter had the opportunity to stand up and, at long last, ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’
how fucking idiotic is that?
now let’s put a close to This Week in Stupid and have us some Daily Claudia.
happy birthday to Daughter Katie, who was born 35 years ago today.
here she is at six weeks old.
now here’s Katie and her mom at Muscoot Farm in July 1993.
and here’s the three of us, on Katie’s birthday in 2025, at the house Ms Spouse found for us on the ocean in Old Lyme, Connecticut.
have a non-stupid Saturday, everyone. for god’s sake, don’t open any interdimensional portals. you never know what’s going to come through that shit.
do you have a nomination for This Week in Stupid? email me at jefftiedrich@gmail.com. thanks!
here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.
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.
full disclosure: I may have teared up over the photo of Katie walking with her mom
Looks like Poilievre found himself a cache of old Roy Rogers costumes