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Friday, September 13, 2024 11:24:16 PM
Well, If I Absolutely Had to Pick a Favorite 2024 Presidential Debate…
Friday, September 13th, 2024
by Shower Cap | American Madness Journal
https://showercapblog.com/well-if-i-absolutely-had-to-pick-a-favorite-2024-presidential-debate/
In lieu of a blog tonight, I have composed an open letter, to the American Broadcasting Company, which I hope you, dear reader, will consider signing:
Dear ABC and/or the Deep State,
As something of a political junkie, it was with great interest I noticed the two-hour block on your broadcast schedule for the evening of Tuesday, September 10th, 2024, labeled “U.S. Presidential Debate.”
Though I’ve become intensely emotionally invested in the syndicated reruns airing on a rival network, of a situation comedy program titled “Who’s the Boss?,” after carefully weighing my options, I decided to place my civic duty above my longstanding affection for will-they-or-won’t-they romantic tension, albeit temporarily.
Image my surprise when I tuned in to encounter not the expected thoughtful discourse on the day’s leading issues, between the best and brightest American politics has to offer, but the gruesome, real-time vivisection of some aging, sickly, intellectually debilitated primate-adjacent-at-best evolutionary dead end, more suited to an R-rated Discovery Channel After Dark streaming service than prime time television.
Plus, I bet Tony and Angela finally got together, and I missed it, goddamn you.
Sincerely,
Shower J. Cap, Esq.
Yeah, Kamala dog-walked him so effortlessly, Putin got jealous. I’ve never seen a whoopin’ that bad that wasn’t accompanied by Jim Ross commentary. I don’t think I’ve ever fully understood that old Aesop’s fable, the Prosecutor and the Rapist, until now.
You remember that one, where this Rapist and this Prosecutor are having a race, and the Prosecutor says, “My, my, what small, bored crowds you have,” which makes the Rapist shit himself, and start rubbing the shit all over his face, forgetting the race completely, while the entire community watches, live on television? Boy, that Aesop could be surprisingly scatological when the mood struck him.
The moral of that story, as Hillary Clinton put it, is, “A man you can bait with a tweet is not a man we can trust with nuclear weapons.” Kamala just applied the ol’ show-don’t-tell principle, is all.
The whole thing put me in mind of this really weird dream I had a couple months back, where the national news media insisted cognitive fitness was a major issue coming out of a presidential debate. Pretty wacky, right? My favorite dreams are the ones with wildly fantastical elements, like dragons that breathe pancake batter, or political pundits that hold Donald Trump to the same standards as Democrats.
The doddering old fop couldn’t pass a cognitive test with the assistance of two-way radio earrings. If you showed him a drawing of an animal, he’d probably just try to rape it.
He really imagines he’s pulling off the Jedi mind trick with that dopey abortion answer of his, doesn’t he? Waves his hand and goes, “you WANTED it to go back to the states,” somehow can’t figure out why it’s not working. I dunno, man. Could be the stunted, ineffectual fingers, or perhaps the stunted, ineffectual brain.
When the topic turned to health care, we learned nine years of monastic study had failed to yield a concrete plan, though he does have “concepts” of one. While this response was widely mocked, I personally found it to be the most comforting of the entire debate, because lest we forget, the last time he turned the full force of his very stable genius towards an issue of public health, what he ultimately came up with was Bleach: Good for Tighty-Whities AND Your Insidies!
But it was an exchange on immigration that, I think, most clearly illuminated the choice before the electorate this November.
If you’re looking for workable solutions to the real problems facing the American people, Vice President Harris is the obvious choice, sure, BUT if you’re motivated by more, shall we say, fictitious concerns, I think we have to be honest, and admit she doesn’t have as much to offer.
Seriously, what’s Kamala Harris’ plan to fight windmill cancer? What’s Kamala Harris’ plan to keep furry kids from shitting in litter boxes at school? What’s Kamala Harris’ plan to stop George Soros from sending busloads of Antifas to your town to distribute rainbow fentanyl to trick-or-treaters on Halloween?
She doesn’t have one. And you might say, “Geez, Cap, Presidents have a lot on their plate, it doesn’t make sense to devote resources to imaginary problems fabricated by actual neo-Nazis.” Yeah, well, tell that to all the poor, innocent household pets that aren’t getting eaten in Springfield, Ohio.
Must be awful fun being a neo-Nazi in America these days, where you might just hear the vilest shit you can concoct parroted uncritically by the most prominent and powerful Republicans in the country.
Anyway, Hitler-grade dehumanizing rhetoric aside, Kamala made him jump through a few more hoops, until he was all tuckered out, and the umps invoked the mercy rule. With the masochoist’s pathological hunger for one final serving (scoop?) of degradation, he actually lurched into the spin room, pathetically clutching a Newsmax poll like a security blanket, in search of someone to drive him home in time for Wapner.
Hard to believe things went so badly with his fashy new gal friday, Laura Loomer, heading up the debate prep team.
Laura. Loomer. Hoooooooboy.
I mean, we’ve seen Wee Donnie One-Term turn to some genuine freaks when his back’s up against the wall, but Laura Loomer is so racist, Marjorie Taylor Greene begged Jared Moskowitz to borrow the space lasers for just one quick zap.
Anyway, barely two weeks after desecrating Arlington National Cemetery, this 9/11 conspiracy-spewing psycho was his date…to the 9/11 memorial ceremony in New York City.
And I say “date” because yes, rumors’re flying, amidst footage of the two obscenely pawing at one another in public, though I believe these rumors are a plot to decrease turnout by causing mass suicides. Why, during the composition of this very paragraph, I ordered a railway spike off Amazon, and was only just able to stop myself from jamming it up my left nostril, by reminding myself of how beautiful and worthwhile life is in the immediate aftermath of a debate Donald Trump lost so decisively.
They don’t seem to share my exuberance over in the wingnut media bubble, though a few prominent MAGA shrieking heads managed to channel their impotent frustrations into fantasies of an authoritarian crackdown on ABC, especially those dastardly moderators, who dared to fact-check their Turd Emperor’s blood libel.
Yes, even for a loser of Donald Trump’s magnitude, so much concentrated failure has been rare. No wonder he’s too terrified to debate her again. It must’ve been like watching Eric’s birth on the very same day you bankrupt a casino. And that was before Tay-Tay endorsed.
As in all healthy democracies, Swift’s endorsement was met with a wave of rape threats by leading supporters of the opposing candidate, and I’m sure historians will struggle to explain the gender gap in the 2024 election.
Yes, this metastasized MAGA hasn’t handled recent setbacks well, though they seem curiously unwilling to attempt any solutions beyond “let’s get even shittier,” with Off-Brand Orbán himself leading the charge, threatening to prosecute his political opponents, vowing to deliver “a bloody story” of mass deportation to the soft, sloppy horde of white mediocrity he leads.
And whether it’s Texas AG Ken Paxton suing for access to the records of women seeking out-of-state abortions, Missouri Secretary of State Jay Ashcroft attempting to decertify an abortion rights ballot measure, or Ron DeSantis dispatching his “election police” to harass petition signers at home, they’re anything but shy about abusing state power to suppress Americans’ fundamental rights.
Of course, the attack on Springfield, Ohio’s Haitian community is going exactly according to plan. Bomb threats emptying schools, immigrants fearing for their safety; why, JD Vance was so pleased with his role in the affair, he took a celebratory swim, with his shirt on, like the exceptionally non-weird fellow he is, ahead of his interview with Hitler apologist-platforming Tucker Carlson!
They’re running anti-Semitic ads in Michigan, highlighting Vice President Harris’ marriage to one of those you-know-whats, targeting any Muslim voters who somehow haven’t heard anything else Donald Trump has ever said.
Oklahoma Senator Markwayne Mullin isn’t ready to commit to the peaceful transfer of power just yet. In his defense, Markwayne was only in the House during the last insurrection, and Josh Hawley has promised to share his scampering route to the best hidey-hole next time.
Tommy Tuberville resumed his one-doofus war on U.S. military readiness, unilaterally obstructing the promotion of a top aide to Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin, to raise awareness that Tommy Tuberville is So a Senator, With Power n’ Everything. Everyone is very impressed, I’m sure.
Speaking of playing the hits, Speaker Moses pulled a bill at the last minute, because he doesn’t have the votes, a CR to keep the government open this time. Golly, we’re one Lauren Boebert handjob away from a full-on 2023 revival.
Okay, the labradoodle I snatched from the downstairs neighbors ain’t gonna fricassee itself, I suppose, so I’ll sign off here. The plan is to drink until the part of my brain that houses memories of the Trump/Loomer story is good and dead.
Friday, September 13th, 2024
by Shower Cap | American Madness Journal
https://showercapblog.com/well-if-i-absolutely-had-to-pick-a-favorite-2024-presidential-debate/
In lieu of a blog tonight, I have composed an open letter, to the American Broadcasting Company, which I hope you, dear reader, will consider signing:
Dear ABC and/or the Deep State,
As something of a political junkie, it was with great interest I noticed the two-hour block on your broadcast schedule for the evening of Tuesday, September 10th, 2024, labeled “U.S. Presidential Debate.”
Though I’ve become intensely emotionally invested in the syndicated reruns airing on a rival network, of a situation comedy program titled “Who’s the Boss?,” after carefully weighing my options, I decided to place my civic duty above my longstanding affection for will-they-or-won’t-they romantic tension, albeit temporarily.
Image my surprise when I tuned in to encounter not the expected thoughtful discourse on the day’s leading issues, between the best and brightest American politics has to offer, but the gruesome, real-time vivisection of some aging, sickly, intellectually debilitated primate-adjacent-at-best evolutionary dead end, more suited to an R-rated Discovery Channel After Dark streaming service than prime time television.
Plus, I bet Tony and Angela finally got together, and I missed it, goddamn you.
Sincerely,
Shower J. Cap, Esq.
Yeah, Kamala dog-walked him so effortlessly, Putin got jealous. I’ve never seen a whoopin’ that bad that wasn’t accompanied by Jim Ross commentary. I don’t think I’ve ever fully understood that old Aesop’s fable, the Prosecutor and the Rapist, until now.
You remember that one, where this Rapist and this Prosecutor are having a race, and the Prosecutor says, “My, my, what small, bored crowds you have,” which makes the Rapist shit himself, and start rubbing the shit all over his face, forgetting the race completely, while the entire community watches, live on television? Boy, that Aesop could be surprisingly scatological when the mood struck him.
The moral of that story, as Hillary Clinton put it, is, “A man you can bait with a tweet is not a man we can trust with nuclear weapons.” Kamala just applied the ol’ show-don’t-tell principle, is all.
The whole thing put me in mind of this really weird dream I had a couple months back, where the national news media insisted cognitive fitness was a major issue coming out of a presidential debate. Pretty wacky, right? My favorite dreams are the ones with wildly fantastical elements, like dragons that breathe pancake batter, or political pundits that hold Donald Trump to the same standards as Democrats.
The doddering old fop couldn’t pass a cognitive test with the assistance of two-way radio earrings. If you showed him a drawing of an animal, he’d probably just try to rape it.
He really imagines he’s pulling off the Jedi mind trick with that dopey abortion answer of his, doesn’t he? Waves his hand and goes, “you WANTED it to go back to the states,” somehow can’t figure out why it’s not working. I dunno, man. Could be the stunted, ineffectual fingers, or perhaps the stunted, ineffectual brain.
When the topic turned to health care, we learned nine years of monastic study had failed to yield a concrete plan, though he does have “concepts” of one. While this response was widely mocked, I personally found it to be the most comforting of the entire debate, because lest we forget, the last time he turned the full force of his very stable genius towards an issue of public health, what he ultimately came up with was Bleach: Good for Tighty-Whities AND Your Insidies!
But it was an exchange on immigration that, I think, most clearly illuminated the choice before the electorate this November.
If you’re looking for workable solutions to the real problems facing the American people, Vice President Harris is the obvious choice, sure, BUT if you’re motivated by more, shall we say, fictitious concerns, I think we have to be honest, and admit she doesn’t have as much to offer.
Seriously, what’s Kamala Harris’ plan to fight windmill cancer? What’s Kamala Harris’ plan to keep furry kids from shitting in litter boxes at school? What’s Kamala Harris’ plan to stop George Soros from sending busloads of Antifas to your town to distribute rainbow fentanyl to trick-or-treaters on Halloween?
She doesn’t have one. And you might say, “Geez, Cap, Presidents have a lot on their plate, it doesn’t make sense to devote resources to imaginary problems fabricated by actual neo-Nazis.” Yeah, well, tell that to all the poor, innocent household pets that aren’t getting eaten in Springfield, Ohio.
Must be awful fun being a neo-Nazi in America these days, where you might just hear the vilest shit you can concoct parroted uncritically by the most prominent and powerful Republicans in the country.
Anyway, Hitler-grade dehumanizing rhetoric aside, Kamala made him jump through a few more hoops, until he was all tuckered out, and the umps invoked the mercy rule. With the masochoist’s pathological hunger for one final serving (scoop?) of degradation, he actually lurched into the spin room, pathetically clutching a Newsmax poll like a security blanket, in search of someone to drive him home in time for Wapner.
Hard to believe things went so badly with his fashy new gal friday, Laura Loomer, heading up the debate prep team.
Laura. Loomer. Hoooooooboy.
I mean, we’ve seen Wee Donnie One-Term turn to some genuine freaks when his back’s up against the wall, but Laura Loomer is so racist, Marjorie Taylor Greene begged Jared Moskowitz to borrow the space lasers for just one quick zap.
Anyway, barely two weeks after desecrating Arlington National Cemetery, this 9/11 conspiracy-spewing psycho was his date…to the 9/11 memorial ceremony in New York City.
And I say “date” because yes, rumors’re flying, amidst footage of the two obscenely pawing at one another in public, though I believe these rumors are a plot to decrease turnout by causing mass suicides. Why, during the composition of this very paragraph, I ordered a railway spike off Amazon, and was only just able to stop myself from jamming it up my left nostril, by reminding myself of how beautiful and worthwhile life is in the immediate aftermath of a debate Donald Trump lost so decisively.
They don’t seem to share my exuberance over in the wingnut media bubble, though a few prominent MAGA shrieking heads managed to channel their impotent frustrations into fantasies of an authoritarian crackdown on ABC, especially those dastardly moderators, who dared to fact-check their Turd Emperor’s blood libel.
Yes, even for a loser of Donald Trump’s magnitude, so much concentrated failure has been rare. No wonder he’s too terrified to debate her again. It must’ve been like watching Eric’s birth on the very same day you bankrupt a casino. And that was before Tay-Tay endorsed.
As in all healthy democracies, Swift’s endorsement was met with a wave of rape threats by leading supporters of the opposing candidate, and I’m sure historians will struggle to explain the gender gap in the 2024 election.
Yes, this metastasized MAGA hasn’t handled recent setbacks well, though they seem curiously unwilling to attempt any solutions beyond “let’s get even shittier,” with Off-Brand Orbán himself leading the charge, threatening to prosecute his political opponents, vowing to deliver “a bloody story” of mass deportation to the soft, sloppy horde of white mediocrity he leads.
And whether it’s Texas AG Ken Paxton suing for access to the records of women seeking out-of-state abortions, Missouri Secretary of State Jay Ashcroft attempting to decertify an abortion rights ballot measure, or Ron DeSantis dispatching his “election police” to harass petition signers at home, they’re anything but shy about abusing state power to suppress Americans’ fundamental rights.
Of course, the attack on Springfield, Ohio’s Haitian community is going exactly according to plan. Bomb threats emptying schools, immigrants fearing for their safety; why, JD Vance was so pleased with his role in the affair, he took a celebratory swim, with his shirt on, like the exceptionally non-weird fellow he is, ahead of his interview with Hitler apologist-platforming Tucker Carlson!
They’re running anti-Semitic ads in Michigan, highlighting Vice President Harris’ marriage to one of those you-know-whats, targeting any Muslim voters who somehow haven’t heard anything else Donald Trump has ever said.
Oklahoma Senator Markwayne Mullin isn’t ready to commit to the peaceful transfer of power just yet. In his defense, Markwayne was only in the House during the last insurrection, and Josh Hawley has promised to share his scampering route to the best hidey-hole next time.
Tommy Tuberville resumed his one-doofus war on U.S. military readiness, unilaterally obstructing the promotion of a top aide to Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin, to raise awareness that Tommy Tuberville is So a Senator, With Power n’ Everything. Everyone is very impressed, I’m sure.
Speaking of playing the hits, Speaker Moses pulled a bill at the last minute, because he doesn’t have the votes, a CR to keep the government open this time. Golly, we’re one Lauren Boebert handjob away from a full-on 2023 revival.
Okay, the labradoodle I snatched from the downstairs neighbors ain’t gonna fricassee itself, I suppose, so I’ll sign off here. The plan is to drink until the part of my brain that houses memories of the Trump/Loomer story is good and dead.
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