Podcast

Todd Blanche goes to Capitol Hill . . . and faceplants. “I made a big mistake,” he said of the J6 slush fund . . . and then weaseled around. It was a bad day, even worse for Jay Clayton da Turd, who humuliated himself with his bellycrawling routine. 

It’s the darnedest thing. The only thing Moscow Mitch’s “proof-of-life” is proving is that only feeble-minded MAGAT simps are falling for it. 

“For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of queens.” -Shakespeare, if the truth be told.

Lindsey Graham is dead.

Thanks, again, SCOTUS! That whole “fire-em-if-you-got-em” ruling is already yielding Federalist Society/Heritage Foundation dividends, yeah? ICE goons murder again . . . and try to abduct the witnesses out-of-country. Nitwit Nero doesn’t understand that not signing a bill means IT BECOMES LAW. I’faith, we breathe the ether of the Moronosphere. 

Oddly enough, I mentioned Generalissmo Fracisco Franco, who is still dead. OTOH, Moscow Mitch is become Schrödinger’s Senator: both dead and alive at the same time until someone opens the box/hospital room/sliding drawer in the hospital morgue. 

Have an AWESOME Weekend. 

Like we always say: So far ahead of the curve it’s like we’re on straight road. Hi, Jehosaphat!

We tried to tell you it wasn’t about trans people in the military. That, as in 1933, was just the starting point. Whiskey Pete won’t quit until he has a racially “pure” all-white military. Now it’s the Navy’s turn. internecine bickering erupts in the MAGAT-o-sphere over Dead Charlie. WineBox Jeanine’s pettifoggers had an embarrassing day in court. Nitwit Nero’s out $5M + interest. 

We.Are.Impervious! Been raining all day, but the roof is tarped.
And, Do Jesus, Dill Harris, but what a day! Nitwit Nero on the loose in NATO. Graham Platner’s campaign corkscrews into the dirt. And then, and thennnnnn . . . a new birth of crazy. 

So there you are: all ready for the evening and then . . . Graham Platner. DAMMit! 

Oh, well, at least you have the boys’ soccer team, Oh. Oops.

This 250th celebration could have been joyous. That was the idea when planning started in 2016, but everything goes to somewhere south of hell with Nitwit Nero. Fortunately, no one is there to get heat stroke other than his cult members. Otherwise, it’s business as usual at places like Focks. Papa Leo puts another shot across Nitwit Nero’s bow. 

Happy 250th! May our 251st be a new birth of freedom! 

Wine Box Jeanine brags about another insane, fascist indictment. Yep! Felonious Water-touching. And she’s NOT going to talk about January 6! Nitwit Nero wants a “threesome” with his “two beautiful sons.” Day 18 of McConnell Watch. Is he dead? Is he not? How could anyone tell? Todd “34 Felonies” Blanche screws up. Again. Some more. Dancers dodge death as tacky stage begins to fall apart on the Mall. 

There’s always a surfeit of madness, evil, and stupidity on this rotten timeline. Regardless, some dates have more gravity for me than others and that gravity exists outside the vulgarities of the present. This is one such date. 

More times than I can count, people have said to me, “write a book.” There’s never been enough time. Once in awhile, though, the waves of memory crash on the shores of my present. As Mrs. Lowman said, “Attention must be paid.”

Still, make no mistake, we live in a time dominated by evil, venal, hateful people. We’ve got them here, too. 

The entirely illegitimate SCOTUS bugged out till October today, but not before barely keeping the 14th Amendment on life support while trashing its Equal Protection clause in regard to the tiniest and most vulnerable majority in the entire country. Ahistorical members of the multimillionaire ForProfit Media declared a “win,” when it really wasn’t. Fascists never stop attacking. 

Nitwit Nero’s pet SCOTUS sends him home with E. Jean Carroll’s judgment against him intact and unchanged. Even they know he’s a sexual predator. OTOH, they also upended a hundred years of precedent to let Cankles Caligula fire agency officials will-ye-nil-ye. Cool. Firing MAGATS is gonna be big fun in a few years! 

To be “fair,” Nitwit Nero’s carnival is a big, ol’ flop. But if you go, watch out for Uncle Sam. Vile, thy name is (Nut)Megyn. Or Katie Miller. Or Or Or . . . 

SCOTUS confirms the murderous fascists they are, then Sammy Bad-breath Alito howls when he’s kicked. 

What? Matrimonial feuding in the Whor, er, White House? Carpet in the Imperial Potty? Quel horreur! A shouting match with Cankles Caligula at a plumb-dignified MAGAT Senate lunch-ee-on! Flu running wild among the boots at Lackland. The details are entirely un-shocking. Postmaster General admits he wants to deny mail-in ballots. 

Pettifoggers be pettifogging! Nitwit Nero faces a J6 trial just because he decided to sue the Beeb. The similarities between Stephen Miller and his hero, Heydrich, come into closer focus. 

The pool ain’t pooling. The ducks are dying. Jaydee ain’t vice-presidenting. The Iranians ain’t surrendering. And the Israelis murdered the turtle lady. Proving what the HORN Community knows, the WaPo is declaring that gasp Tulsi is, was, and always has been a member of a cult. We’ve only been talking about that for nigh a decade. 

Nitwit Nero gives new meaning to “pool coverage.” Fascist Italian PM earns worldwide praise for calling out a classic Julius Geezer lie. New “acting” DNI chief comes to work with a kill list. 

At a party in Chicago, America saw what we once were, and may yet be again. And Ms. Michele scorched Nitwit Nero worse than burnt milk in a hot iron skillet. Kudos, Mrs. Obama for playing your own part in Stoking the Stroke! He, meanwhile, continues to fall apart. His candidates are perverts (surprise!) and his nominees have no self-respect. OTOH, he showed up in Europe (of all places!) without his makeup and looked like the fragile, old, frail, husk that he is. 

And his bootlickers finger the cigarettes in their pockets. 

Hell, I may spark a stogie on The Day.

James Talarico now lives in the head of every MAGAT in Murkkka, especially the creepy evilgelical ones. Nitwit Nero says he has the best deal any president ever made, even as he’s losing his shirt. No worries. If it doesn’t work out, he has the Jadey Egg loaded into a catapult aimed at the underside of a bus.