why the fuck does Donny’s vulgar Epstein Dance Hall need sniper nests and a ‘great drone empire’?
what war does Dear Leader imagine he’s fighting?
imagine an administration so corrupt and scandal-saturated that every goddamned day they have to come up with some new dog-and-pony distraction to try to make us all forget about the shitfuckery that went down on the previous day.
actually, you don’t have to imagine it. we’re living in this very shithole timeline right now.
seriously, Preznit Fuckwit’s handlers did it again yesterday morning. out of the clear blue, they got Dear Leader to drag the entire press corps up on the roof of the White House, so the press could listen to him blither incoherently about the construction of his beloved Epstein Dance Hall.
this hastily-thrown-together, unscheduled presser was clearly a shameless attempt to change the subject away from Donny’s über-corrupt January 6 slush fund — but what it actually was, was a big bowl of holy shit.
“and again, it’s all knit. it’s all knit together. between the drone-proofing, the, uh, missile-proofing, we have, uh, the drone capacity upstairs, we can have all sorts of military oper— whether I— I hate to use the word ‘snipers,’ but we have great sniper capacity. it’s built for our snipers, not the enemy snipers, our snipers. and because of the height, we get a— a very clear view of everything all over Washington.”
oh my god, what in the actual fuck? when they put Donny together, they used the Abby Normal brain, didn’t they.
wait, what kind of dances will Donny be throwing, that his Epstein Dance Hall needs to be heavily militarized? what paranoid fantasies are dancing around inside his fat empty head?
who is Donny imagining he’s fighting a war against, that his fugly Epstein Dance Hall needs sniper nests? us? We the People? are we Donny’s enemy?
thank god Donny clarified that the Dance Hall was for our snipers, and not enemy snipers. you would hate to have a federal government building deliberately engineered to accommodate the wrong snipers. that would make about as much sense as letting a racist game show host in cognitive collapse be president.
we’re wasting a billion dollars on this abomination. come on, do you know how many January 6 insurrectionists you could pay off with that billion dollars? where are your priorities, man?
oh wait, Donny isn’t finished droning on about drones.
“now, this is the— ballroom and it’s gonna be incredibly— you see the quality of it. and they go right, those columns go right into the roof, and on top of the roof we’re gonna have the greatest drone empire that you’ve ever seen, and it’s gonna protect Washington.”
‘greatest drone empire’? I’m confused, does Donny imagine he’s living inside a Star Wars movie? is he building an Epstein Dance Hall or a Epstein Death Star?
why does the People’s House — because remember, the White House belongs to us; it’s not supposed to be Donny’s personal plaything to fuck up as he sees fit — need a fucking drone empire on the roof of the Dance Hall that nobody asked for in the first place?
this is all so thoroughly moronic. who signed off on this? are these shitwits really going to put a fleet of drones on the roof of a building that’s in the middle of a heavily-populated urban center? did no one think this through? were they all too busy flipping skateboards into their own crotches to grasp just how reckless this idea is?
I hate to be paranoid, but what’s the real agenda here? what happens on January 20, 2029, when, instead of getting the fuck out of the White House like he’s supposed to, Dear Leader chooses to lock himself into the fortified bunker of his Epstein Dance Hall — the one with the sniper nests and the ginormous fucking drone arsenal on its roof?
tell me, is it normal for a president to go to war against his own country? no, it is not normal. it is Abby Normal.
hang on, Donny has one more slice of Bugfuck Pie to serve up.
“I’m doing a job on the Reflecting Lake for a fraction of what they paid. now I’ve upgraded it very suh— I, I got so into it I’ve upgraded it like you wouldn’t believe. I’m doing all the walkways outside. I— y’know— I’m doing the— I’m doing it properly. but— it’s a much bigger job. but you see it’s happening now. it’s gonna be beautiful. it’s gonna be waterproof. it’s gonna be reflecting again … friends of mine would come to the Lincoln, or the— uh, Washington and they’d say ‘sir, it’s disgusting,’ and I said, ‘what’s disgusting?’ the Reflecting Lake.”
Jesus wept, they really did use the Abby Normal brain.
this deteriorating old shit-kazoo can’t even remember the Reflecting Pool’s name. he calls it the ‘Reflecting Lake’ — twice. imagine that Joe Biden had done that. Jake Tapper would have personally burned the White House to the ground.
and thank fuck Dear Leader’s making the Reflecting Pool ‘waterproof.’ the last thing you’d want is for a pool to get any water in it.
oh, and we get a ‘sir’ story. do you really believe that Donny’s big, strong, teary-eyed friends call him ‘sir’?
trick question! Donny doesn’t have any friends. that why he has to make up some bullshit ‘sir’ story about what happens when his imaginary playmates visit ‘the Lincoln.’ who the fuck talks like that?
all I want is a president who isn’t a moron. is that really too much to ask?
hey, you know who else got the Abby Normal brain? Vice President Couchfuck McGee, that’s who.
“…holding up signs saying ‘no kings,’ they’re very, very insistent that we not have kings. and then King Charles comes to the, the, the Congressional chamber, and these guys break out in rapturous applause. so maybe they don’t care so much about kings.”
holy shit, Couchfuck isn’t making a dumb joke. he really is this fucking dense. Yale should demand he return the diploma they gave him.
tell me, does habitually porking one’s own furniture take some gradual toll on intelligence, or has Couchfuck always been this stupid?
look, JD — don’t make me come over there and explain the difference between Britain’s constitutional monarchy and some fuckbrained tinpot dictator wanna-be who we’ll probably have to pry out of his fortified Epstein Bunker, all while ducking sniper fire and dodging some craptastic drone empire.
ugh. beam me out of this shitty timeline.
you know what? we haven’t had a Hero of the Day for a while — so let’s have one right now.
let’s enjoy one minute and nineteen seconds of Rhode Island’s Democratic Rep. Seth Magaziner using Donny’s doughy pantload of an interior secretary, Doug Burgum, as a chew toy.
Magaziner: “because you know better, I’m going to ask you to help clear up a few things for us. President Trump said, ‘if you have a windmill near your house, that noise causes cancer.’ true or false, Mr. Secretary?”
Burgum: “ — ”
Magaziner: “false. according to the American Cancer Society, they’ve not found evidence that any kind of noise causes cancer, particularly noise from wind energy. ‘China has very few windfarms.’ true or false?
Burgum: “ — ”
Magaziner: “the answer is false. China added more wind generation last year than the rest of the world combined. they get 15% of their electricity from wind, which is almost as high as North Dakota. ‘the most expensive form of energy ever, wind and solar,’ says the president. true or false?”
Burgum: “that’s true.”
Magaziner: “not according to the Department of Energy under the Trump Administration … enough of the games. the American people want lower energy costs, they want lower prices.”
seriously, you gotta love a guy who brings his own visual aids, and makes Donny’s flunkies look as stupid, arrogant and unprepared as they are.
and now let’s go out with some Daily Claudia.
I found another batch of photos from the Short Hair Years. this one’s dated September 10, 1985.
look at that: a real, old-school electric typewriter. I’m trying to remember where Ms. Spouse was working in 1985. this might be her office at the Village Voice.
this next one has ‘Dec 84’ scrawled on the back of it. it was probably taken in her bestie Mandi’s Greenwich Village apartment.
now let’s skip ahead to September 21, 2023. we’re at one of our favorite restaurants in the entire world, the Coast Guard House, which sits directly on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean in Narragansett, RI.
have a great Wednesday, everyone. try not to get droned to smithereens by Donny’s ginormous Epstein Dance Hall empire.
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.
















today in Shit That Happened While I Was Busy Writing This Shit —
RIP Barney Frank, who was undeniably a gay rights hero, but also said some stupid shit towards the end of his life
https://www.washingtonpost.com/obituaries/2026/05/20/barney-frank-influential-congressman-gay-rights-hero-dies-86/
"I hate to be paranoid, but what’s the real agenda here? what happens on January 20, 2029, when, instead of getting the fuck out of the White House like he’s supposed to, Dear Leader chooses to lock himself into the fortified bunker of his Epstein Dance Hall — the one with the sniper nests and the ginormous fucking drone arsenal on its roof?"
Answer - We seal him up in it, and anyone stupid enough to be with him on that day.