Every time I start writing something about the current administration’s latest absurdity, obscenity, illegality, skullduggery, incompetency, or shitbombification-ery, they do something that’s even worse, and they do it so fast that anything I could write would be old before I could post it.
And regarding shitbombing, why do people keep saying Trump posts these things? You know the addlepated old fartbag couldn’t possibly figure out how to make an AI generated video by himself – somebody did it for him – cough Vance, cough Miller, cough Young Republican Nazi duJour. And no way he knows “Don’t Fear the Reaper,” or found the parody of it himself, shortly after he dined with JD Vance.
Anyway, regarding the immediate obsolescence of anything I could write about these dork demon clowns, back in October I had drafted a piece called “Peter Pan Hegseth’s Hot, Homoerotic GI Joe Fantasy” about his intense need to do push-ups alongside shirtless, sweaty, chest-hair free male GI’s, but then the swollen citrus in chief started bombing fishermen off the coast of Venezuela. I was working on designing a campaign bumper sticker that said “Colbert/Kimmel 2028 – Comedians make good presidents!” when the orange marshmallow circus peanut went after Seth Meyers and two female journalists, for the sin of doing journalism. Every idea I come up with immediately feels so three weeks ago.
So I give. Way back when I started this blog, I promised no politics, but over the years I just had to speak up about a few things. But now, what’s the point? It’s obvious to any sentient being that Dozin’ Demented Dinky Dick Donny is an insane sociopath and that Stephen Miller (aka Brownosferatu) is the fascist in charge, with VoldemortVought at his side.
And then, Madge the Maniacal Marauding Conspiracy Queen committed a cannily timed departure which almost made her look…sane? Nah, just greedy. And then Zohran Mamdani charmed the socks right off the coppertoned cankles-in-chief as if he were mushing yellow and red play-doh together into a compliant, squishy, smiling, animated, creamy orange butternut squash puree. How do we process it all?
I can’t. So rather than try to keep up myself, I commend you to Jeff Tiedrich, a guy I stumbled across on Substack, who writes under the heading “everyone is entitled to my own opinion.” Mr. Tiedrich has a superhuman ability to keep up with all the latest outrages and to rip them apart with ferocious, gleeful, and uniquely creative uses of the “f” word to emphasize the enormity of the idiocy, effrontery, and mendacity that washes over us multiple times a day. Enjoy. If there’s a laugh to be had out of all this, Mr. Tiedrich will provide it, with a healthy dose of rage.
For now, I’ll give you a reminder of The Thanksgiving Rules, in their various iterations over the years:
The Pandemic Thanksgiving Rules
Please Remember Thanksgiving Before Christmas
Hoping you find a peaceful day or two over the upcoming holiday to focus on gratitude, because even among the ruins of our democracy, the exile of competency, and the festering fascism of wimpy wanker baby men still trying to get revenge for all the middle school swirlies they got from the popular kids, I remain,
your trying-to-zen-out-with-a-this-too-shall-pass-attitude-and-a-healthy-dose-of-gratitude-for-the basics-like-food-shelter-and heat-while-deciding-which-charity-to-support-that-feeds-shelters-and-warms-those-who-are-in-need,
Ridiculouswoman
your trying-to-zen-out-with-a-this-too-shall-pass-attitude-and-a-healthy-dose-of-gratitude-for-the basics-like-food-shelter-and heat-while-deciding-which-charity-to-support-that-feeds-shelters-and-warms-those-who-are-in-need,.
Yeah, me, too.