this year in stupid: 2025 — part 1

a three-part look back at an entire year’s worth of dumbfuckery

as another stupid year comes to a close in America, let’s remember some of the dumbest fucking shit that happened.

note: this is a long post. some email apps — gmail in particular — may truncate it. if this happens to you, click “view entire message” or “view in browser” or go here to see the entire post.

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January 8: y-m-c-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay

here’s a MAGA moron who could teach a master class in how not to drive. in fact, schools should show this clip in driver’s ed classes — as a cautionary tale. just check out this extensive list of don’ts.

— don’t drive recklessly on snow-covered roads.
— don’t hold your phone in one hand while driving recklessly on snow-covered roads.
— don’t sing M-A-G-A to the tune of Y-M-C-A while holding your phone in one hand while driving recklessly on snow-covered roads.
— and, for fuck’s sake, don’t announce that “God has cleared a path for us today” JUST BEFORE YOU CRASH YOUR CAR because you were singing M-A-G-A to the tune of Y-M-C-A while holding your phone in one hand while driving recklessly on snow-covered roads.

— lastly, don’t post your dumb-assery to social media, unless you get off on being mercilessly mocked by the entire world.

know what? I think Mr. Retribution himself, God, zapped this fucker for being a dipshit.

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January 20: the what now?

banning TikTok was bad enough, but now these puritanical fucksnoots have gone way too far.

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January 27: we don’t need no edumacation

America, meet your new dumbed-down-as-fuck White House Press Corps. Donny’s press office has been doling out credentials to various wingnut noise machine randos — people like Natalie Winters, the co-host of one-man leper colony Steve Bannon’s War Room podcast. that’s right, Rotting Stevie Three-Shirts now has eyes and ears in the White House press room.

look how proud Natalie is to show up for her first day of work.

notice anything weird about that tweet? maybe Natalie’s creative spelling of the word correspondent?

typos are not necessarily stupid. we all make them, all the time. what’s totally fucking stupid is not deleting that tweet and posting a correction. five days later, it’s still in her feed. journamolism at its finest.

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February 20: punctuation, how does it work?

a picture is worth a thousand words, so feast your eyes on a bunch of grown-ass men wearing jackets bearing the words ‘Born to Ride Donald J. Trump.’

who wants to tell them?

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February 21: instant karma’s gonna get you

it’s been a shitty week, so let’s just sit back and enjoy pardoned Proud Boy Enrique Tarrio smacking the phone out of some woman’s hand and then immediately getting arrested for assault, handcuffed and carted away.

as the assaulted woman puts it,

“you don’t get to just put your hands on people. you don’t get to come here and do whatever the fuck you want. you just assaulted me, and now you’re getting arrested. good fucking job, you idiot. you pathetic piece of shit.”

she’s right, isn’t she, John Lennon?

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February 27: nice try

Alexa, can grinding your jaw be a sign that you’ve hoovered way too much coke?

Cocaine jaw, also known as “coke jaw,” is a common side effect of cocaine use. It refers to the uncontrollable grinding of teeth and repetitive clenching of the jaw often observed in individuals who misuse cocaine.

oh gee.

Alexa, can putting your hand not quite to your mouth and then pretending you’re chewing on something be an effective way of masking that you’re coked to the fucking gills?

I’m going to go with no.

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March 6: the flight of the Enola Homosexual

gather ’round, children, Uncle Jeff is going to read you the story of Enola, the Very Gay Airplane. it goes like this:

once upon a time, there was this ahem alleged sexual-assaulting christofascist named Piss-Drunk Pete Kegstand.

Pete was the Big Boss of the United States military. now, Pete loved the military and he loved men — but not all men. Pete only loved the manliest of men. he hated any man who wasn’t among the manliest of manly men.

now, Pete was very afraid that if his manly army of the very manliest manly men accidentally caught a glimpse of the wrong sort of word — for instance, a word like ‘gay’ — they might go a little funny in the head, and get bad ideas. and so Pete directed his military to remove all the wrong sorts of words from their files.

and that’s how the US military ended up removing photos of the Enola Gay — the plane that dropped the first atomic bomb on Japan — from its archives.

look, you imbeciles: the Enola Gay wasn’t called that because it was a boy plane that was really into other boy planes. the plane was named after Enola Gay Tibbets — the mother of Col. Paul Tibbets, its pilot.

I suppose if dear old Enola wanted a plane named after her, she should have had the decency to be named Enola Incredibly Straight Tibbets.

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March 14: who would Jesus date?

christofascist pastor Joel Webbon finds himself in a bit of a sticky wicket. you see, he was hoping to sell tickets to a Christian singles event, and it seems that he’s now having to give them away for free, because … well, let’s let Joel explain.

“…completely free, and also the admission cost to the singles event. we are hoping to fill up our singles event, and finding godly Christian single women has been, well, I’ll just say, much more difficult than finding godly Christian single men.”

now comes the part where we throw back our heads in laughter.

no one could have predicted this. really weird how a bunch of unpleasant misogynistic god-botherers can’t find any women who want to attend their Incelpalooza.

hey, Pastor Joel — I’m playing gospel hits for you, on the world’s tiniest violin.

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April 3: how obsequious is this?

here’s what happens when you take Graham Allen, a rando MAGA podcaster, and give him a job as the Department of Defense’s ‘digital media director’:

“How AMAZING is this?!? President Trump just stepped off Marine One and got into a golf cart at the LIV Golf League tournament.”

Graham, I’ve got North Korean State TV on the phone. they’re saying to tone it down, your praise of Dear Leader is waaaaaaay too over the top.

but please, riddle me this: what the fuck is so amazing? is it that Donny didn’t waddle about with toilet paper stuck to his shoe? (October 4, 2018)

is it that a furious Slovenian rent-a-wife didn’t jump into the cart in before Donny could, and make him take the next one? (January 20, 2024)

is it that Sundowning Grandpa Befuddlepants didn’t get lost on his way to the cart, and have to be guided back to it by a secret service agent? (July 6, 2017)

or is it just amazing that this dilapidated old toad —

— was able to walk twenty feet without his heart exploding?

opinion among the commenters under that not-tweet, by the way, was split between ‘yes, this is amazing’ and ‘Dear Leader isn’t being fascist enough.’

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April 15: oopsies!

Donny Convict’s presidential activities can be sorted into two categories: the Fucking Up Of Shit and the Standing Next To Of Athletes. Donny loves to stand next to sports dudes. anyone who wins anything, they get invited to the White House so that weak and insecure Donny can preen with them and pretend that he’s a winner, too.

on April 15, Donny must have been too busy with the Fucking Up Of Shit part of his job, because he outsourced the Standing Next To Of Athletes business to his veep.

did hilarity ensue? it sure as fuck did — because Couchfuck McGee fumbled that shit on live TV.

oh my god, JD — you had ONE JOB: picking up a championship trophy and handing it off to members of the Ohio State Buckeyes. but you couldn’t manage it without breaking the trophy in two and letting it fall from your stubby mitts.

why do they keep letting this doughy pantload out in public? is there one time when he hasn’t screwed the pooch?

hey, let’s gif that shit, for posterity’s sake — and let’s slow it way the fuck down, and wring every drop of stupid from it.

if that’s not a metaphor for Donny’s entire presidency, I don’t know what is.

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April 24: go forth and multipl— never mind

America’s christofascist dipshits have been working overtime to convince the nation’s ahem white women to boom out as many ahem white babies as possible. they’re throwing everything at the wall, just to see what sticks. let’s pay them five large to get themselves knocked up. no, wait — let’s give them medals for having six or more kids. (I’m not making this up!)

but of course, no national program to get ahem white women to start fuckin’ with gusto would be complete without the distribution of ludicrous AI-generated slop.

you’ve got your godly marching orders, America’s ahem white women: get to work making sons — because apparently daughters are anathema to His Eye.

speaking of eyes, do yourself a huge favor — don’t zoom in on any of the faces.

also: what the fuck is going on behind the preggobabes? a bald eagle standing guard over a garden-gnome-sized Jesus wearing running shoes?

a brief note to whoever is responsible for this image: eagles are carrion birds. they eat dead things. is Mister Baldie here waiting for Microscopic Jesus to die, so he can chow down? is that really the message you’re intending to send to America’s fertile payload?

while we’re on the subject of horribly-rendered christofascist AI art, what prompt was input in order to come up with this abomination?

“AI, generate for me the dorkiest couple possible, and make sure the woman looks no older than twelve”?

and remember, guys: when Jesus comes to hook you up with your child bride, have your red baseball cap at the ready.

eww. these people are seriously sick.

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tomorrow: this year in stupid, part 2 of 3

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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.

945 / 1034