Wait, the Guy From The Apprentice is PRESIDENT?!?!? (Ferret/Shower Cap)

[TheFerret]

Hey, am I still allowed to blog? I have no idea what my rights are anymore. A couple dudes in red coats with muskets showed up yesterday, and I guess I’m quartering them now? Guess I shoulda read Project 2025 a little more closely, back before that executive order that banned literacy.

(Links and such await ye here: https://showercapblog.com/wait-the-guy-from-the-apprentice-is-president/)

Well, the Turd Reich swept back into power on a wave of cringe which, in hindsight, could only have been soundtracked by Kid Rock’s made-for-the-casino-and-state-fair-circuit anthem, “Let’s Go Brandon”, and a downright sacrilicious prayer from a fashy pair of podcasters calling themselves, I kid you not, “Girls Gone Bible.”

Several of the Children of the Candy Corn, including known insurrectionists, made the pilgrimage to D.C. to celebrate their temporary triumph over decency and common sense, only to have the show called off at the last minute, to spare the new press secretary the indignity of Spiceresque crowd size lies.

No, the great populist preferred to remain indoors, safe and snug in the arms of his new billionaire buddies. He’ll call you next time he needs a riot, though, or a buyer for his next commemorative ear diaper or NFT or whatever.

…or MEME COIN. Lordy. Sloppy old fop still doesn’t understand how tariffs work, but goddamn if he doesn’t keep abreast of the latest technological developments in the grifting field. Wants to drag the nation back to the 1890s, while he lives on the bleeding edge of corruption.

Gotta admit, cryptocurrency is perfect for the modern kleptocrat on the go, a one stop shop where brainwashed shut-ins can drain their retirement accounts into the same pot as hostile foreign powers looking to bribe their way out of legislation limiting their ability to divide and spy on our internet-addled populace.    

A republic, if you can outbid the Chinese for it.

Anyway, the unwelcome rerun of the Rapist Game Show Host Gets the Nuclear Codes Show garnered the worst inaugural ratings since 2013, which has to be humiliating for a shallow, fame-obsessed manchild, but hey, at least Zuck got to ogle some boobies.

Also, Melania got to wear the Hat That Launched a Thousand Hamburglar Jokes. Oh, and that Musk fellow threw a couple Nazi salutes, though he was not wearing an amusing hat at the time.

Perhaps I’m being too hard on poor Elon. After all, if a man with an extensive history of spreading debunked “race science” and anti-Semitic conspiracy theories, who bought one of the world’s largest social media platforms, and immediately filled it with previously banned white nationalists, white supremacists, and out-and-out Nazis doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, who does?

Yeah, it’s super unfair to imply there’s any bigotry in the Republican Party. I apologize and repent. Anyway, as soon as the festivities ended, before Melania even had time to change the locks on the White House bedroom door, Off-Brand Orbán issued a flurry of let’s-see-what-I-can-get-away-with executive orders, most of which amount to hanging a White Dudes Only (But Byron Donalds Can Stay So Long As He Keeps Calling Me Daddy) sign on the United States.

We’re talking about rolling back civil rights protections that’ve been in place since the Johnson Administration. Canceling air travel for long since vetted and approved refugees. A feeble attempt to unilaterally rewrite the text of the 14th Amendment to eliminate birthright citizenship, which, sure, has already been blocked in the courts, but wait till Clarence Thomas sees that brand new Cybertruck in his driveway.

He pulled us out of the Paris climate agreement and the World Health Organization, and formally proclaimed Billy Mitchell Donkey Kong Champion for Life. He obstructed cancer research and directed the Pentagon to make umbrellas easier to close. He did all kindsa dumb shit. My brain would run screaming from my skull were I to list it all here.

Yet another order makes Denali Mount McKinley again, which feels like Stephen Miller cashing in a promised birthday wish, frankly. Like, he begs every year for a migrant concentration camp of his very own, finally settles for a spurt of fleeting geographical spite, that kinda thing.

Oh, I suppose I should mention the terrorists. Yeah, you may not’ve heard, but the President of the United States pardoned a bunch of domestic terrorists. First thing, actually. The day went: Oath of Office, Wife Briefly Permits Physical Contact, Mass Release of Violent Criminals.

Me, I think prison is a fantastic place to keep terrorists, probably the best place, but I confess I can see the appeal of having your own, personal army of legally unaccountable thugs. The bar across the street might think twice about blasting techno music after midnight if I had my own Oath Loaders or Glad Lads to dispatch.

Maybe the executive order addressing the price of eggs got lost in the mail. Or maybe we should believe the Dotard when he tells Sean Hannity he doesn’t care about the economy, he’d rather focus on revenge against his political enemies.

He certainly wasted little time revoking security details for John Bolton, Mike Pompeo, and Anthony Fauci, but lowering grocery prices is “hard.” Those campaign trail promises to bring swift conclusions to the wars in Ukraine and Israel? Look, maybe he’ll get to that stuff once the really pressing priorities, like removing Mark Milley’s portrait from the Pentagon, have been addressed.

But probably not.

Oh, and his longstanding personal grudge against windmills means the U.S. will voluntarily fall behind in the race to develop renewable energy sources. Something something America first.

One surprise obstacle to the pursuit of personal pettiness: the apparently substantial number of filthy text messages Republican lawmakers sent to former Mark Meadows assistant Cassidy Hutchinson, which could be revealed should they subpoena her to testify. I dunno, sounds t’me like precisely the sort of rake Jimmy Comer loves to step on.

Plus, I guess we’re gonna disband FEMA, in favor of a system where we outsource disaster relief to Franklin Graham, in case you thought things couldn’t possibly get any dumber.

Readers of draft age will be delighted to hear Pumpkin Spice Pol Pot has already found time for a belligerent phone call with the Danish government over the proposed conquest of Greenland. But if you’re worried about dying a meaningless death on the soil of a longtime European ally, know that Marjorie Taylor Greene wants to “force” the entire world to honor her God Emperor’s petulant “Gulf of America” proclamation, so you could be destined for an unmarked grave in a far more exotic locale.

Andy Ogles can’t wait to send your kids off to die in his boss’ wars of conquest, because he says we’re the “dominant predator.” Andy also wants to amend the Constitution to permit the Velveeta Vulgarian to run for another term, so heck, maybe your grandkids can, too!

The first school shooter of the second Trump term appears to be an honest-to-goodness Black Nazi, so maybe Mark Robinson started a trend. I admit I wonder, when someone like Candace Owens encounters their name, approvingly, in a teenaged murder/suicide’s manifesto, do they feel the teensiest bit of shame, or is that just a corner space on their bucket list bingo card?

I see Vivek Ramaswamy has already worn out his welcome at DOGE, which…like, how fucking unbearable must this dude’s company be, right? So far, the only other guy to get kicked off the MAGA train trafficked teenagers for sex, and even he managed to muster a handful of defenders.

Coming this fall to Fox…Lauren Boebert: Potty Detective! Follow the zany, genital-examining exploits of an established sex pest as she flits from bathroom to bathroom, accusing random strangers of possessing the wrong bits! And don’t worry, even when she’s totally, completely, inescapably wrong, she still gets to go back to her day job, voting on the laws the rest of us have to follow!

You can see how Bishop Mariann Budde got under these asshats’ skin, can’tcha?

“Mercy? MERCY? You don’t understand, Bishop, the cruelty is the whole dang point! Golly gee, we haven’t been mainlining dehumanizing rhetoric for years just to worry about mercy NOW! We believed the absurdities, now we get to commit the atrocities, that was the deal!”

I mean, I get it. You’re all frothy with bloodthirst, along comes this mean ol’ Bishop to remind you what the Bible actually SAYS…it spoils the mood.

But man oh man, the guts it took to be the first to step into the line of fire, to volunteer for the Two Minutes Hate, right at the zenith of MAGA’s influence…Bishop Budde’s worth more than the whole lot of ‘em put together.

And I know we’ve been a bit, um, shall we say “demoralized” since last November, but I hope we can look to her example, and get back in fight. Shit, glancing at the early approval numbers for these fucks and their fuckery, we’ll have ‘em on the run by spring.

Anyhow, forgive me for any stories that may’ve fallen through the cracks; like the rest of you, I was mostly just trying to endure the inaugural week’s septic firehose. Gonna be a ride, that’s for sure.

Maybe I’ll launch my own cryptocurrency. Until then, you can contribute to my beer fund, via Cash App, Venmo, or PayPal. Or you can sign up on the email list at showercapblog.com, or follow @john_luzar for free. I’ll get on Bluesky one of these days. Until then, stay safe out there, amidst all the pardoned terrorists. We’ll get through this…probably.

PS, looks like I’m gonna juuuuust miss the Hesgeth confirmation vote, but I sure do hope the United States Senate doesn’t install the drunken lout who had to buy his abused wife’s silence for fifty grand at the head of the most powerful military force the planet has ever seen. Seems like a bad idea t’me. Just my two cents. 

UPDATE: Well, congrats on your drunken lout. Bet it works out real well.