Because wide swaths of the wealthiest, most advanced nation in human history have been overrun by aggressively overcommitted *LARPers who refuse to go home and shower, life in these United States remains dangerous in all sorts of dumb, irritating ways.
A person who takes part in LARP (live-action role-play).
It’s hard to watch a cut-rate carny like Kari Lake do her carny damndest to incite mob violence without resenting the sheer mediocrity of this fucking movement, isn’t it?
GO HOME AND SHOWER, YOU DORKS. You’ve been sweating farm-grade ivermectin into your cosplay headdresses for seven years now, and you smell weird. I get that you’re upset about the indictments, but it’s not my fault the nincompoop you chose to worship turned out to be such an inept criminal. The warning signs were always there, y’know.
Off-Brand Orbán kicked off his defense as any innocent man would: by feeding the prosecutor’s wife’s name to his loyal murder mob. Made sure to take care of that before tending to insignificant details like replacing the lawyers who quit upon discovering he’d lied to them about the whole “stealing classified intelligence” thing.
See, the lawyers weren’t telling him what he wanted to hear, (in this case, “well of course secret war plans are your personal property!”) so he went in search of something vaguely lawyer-shaped that would, and he found Tom Fitton. Tom has a B.A. in English and some zany misapprehensions about the Presidential Records Act, so I bet he’ll fit right in at Sidney Powell’s weekly poker game.
Anyway, the Dotard celebrated this latest round of felony charges by skipping out on the check after tricking some of his most faithful followers into thinking he’d pay for their lunch. Hey, if you’re still falling for this crap at this late date, you don’t deserve lunch.
Of course, Joe Biden’s done tons of stuff that’s way worse than hiding stolen defense secrets in the bathroom where Eric touches himself to anime porn. And while Chuck Grassley and James Comer can’t technically back up their wild allegations with anything you’d call “evidence” per se, they’ll be launching impeachment proceedings just as soon as they hear back from this one guy who heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend who read it on a bathroom stall door in the Pizzagate restaurant basement.
Noot Gingrich blew the whistle on the Biden Administration plot to “force every American to drink Bud light and shop at Target,” while Ben Shapiro obtained a leaked copy of draft legislation that would replace grade school math and reading with “Bert and Ernie in assless chaps in the Sesame Street pride parade.”
Chaps are inherently assless, Ben. It’s like saying ATM machine.
Ben Shapiro warns Sesame Street will show "Bert and Ernie in assless chaps in the Sesame Street pride parade", then says Daily Wire content for children is coming "not a moment too soon".
Mike Pence appears seconds later, and tells Shapiro "I'm a fan of all of your work." pic.twitter.com/U1WYcqpZbk
DeSantistan Attorney General Ashley Moody says, “I believe at this point the Biden administration is coordinating with the cartels,” no doubt to clandestinely smuggle the missing ass portion of the chaps for some nefarious, grooming-related activity.
Ronward himself vowed to rename some military bases after dead losers, looking to pander to the MAGA base, which is comprised entirely of future dead losers.
Asa Hutchinson asked the RNC to kindly add a Does Not Apply to Convicted Felons, Obviously addendum to the loyalty pledge you have to sign to get on the primary debate stage, and the RNC said, “lol what part of ‘suicide pact’ is unclear to you, bro?”
The Republican Party appreciates your concern, Asa, but they’re not quite done debasing themselves on behalf of this particular game show host. From Jim Jordan to Lil’ Marco to Lindsey Graham to…to…
…and it was here, my friends, as I was trying to craft a gag that would pair with a link to Tom Nichols’ latest evisceration of J.D. Vance, that I got hit with what I’m fairly certain was a real motherfucker of an anxiety attack.
Had ‘em before, but never the feels-like-a-heart-attack variety, so I freaked the fuck out and went to the hospital, hence the lack of a Friday nite post. Womp womp. They assured me nothing’s seriously wrong, and we’re doing some more tests next week.
Anyway, in the waiting room, I’m scrolling through Twitter, and I see Jesse Watters is trending, for, it turns out, a casually dehumanizing diatribe targeting the homeless, and it occurs to me that maybe pouring evil into my skull 24/7 isn’t the healthiest choice.
Folks, I need a break. I’ve been feeling burned out for some time now, but I don’t think I’ve been honest with myself about the toll seven years of this shit has taken on me. I need to unplug for a bit. Smell some flowers. Spend a few summer evenings in my favorite Chicago beer gardens, talking about anything but the latest turd to fall from Marjorie Taylor Greene’s mouth.
How long a break? I dunno. Off the top off my head, Labor Day seems like a good target. Gonna percolate on it for a spell. I will let you know.
I don’t say it as often as I should, but I appreciate the hell out of everyone who’s supported this blog over the years. You changed my life. Saved it, probably. I stumbled into this thing backwards, just as I was coming to grips with the fact that my theatre degree was not, as I initially believed, a one-way ticket to fame and fortune.
Anyway, I’m grateful. Thank you. I will be back, recharged and rejuvenated. Until then, as ever, you stay safe out there, my friends.
PS – In the interest of completeness, here’re some links to stories I wasn’t able to write jokes for, thanks to my stupid brain chemistry: