Delete Your Job, Too: Frank 'n' Beans

Speaking of useless journamalistic hacks who, if they hung up their knickers tomorrow and sought an honest paycheck, you wouldn't miss 'em for a New Yawk second, here's food-critic-turned-political-theater-turd-miner Frank Bruni defending Clownstick's pathetic appetites:

[Clownstick] ordered his usual slab of beef in his usual manner, “well done and with ketchup, as if the entree would be accompanied by a sippy cup,” wrote my friend Tom Sietsema, The Washington Post’s restaurant critic. That’s a great line, and just as witty was Sietsema’s call for “a moment of silence for the cow, the condiment and what most chefs would call a forced marriage.”

Forced, yes, but not necessarily unhappy, and certainly not deserving of the gasps and guffaws it drew. A former restaurant critic myself, I fielded a media request for my appraisal of [Clownstick]’s epicurean trespass. “Let he who is without a bag of microwave popcorn in his cupboard cast the first stone,” I said, or something along those lines.

It goes on like that, surrendering the usual guff about how "it pegs Trump’s critics as exactly the sneering elites he says we are" and such like. Listen close, asshole: Clownstick is a fucking elite, by his own reckoning. He lives in a marble-and-gold penthouse, with gold-plated terlets and Louis Quatorze chairs. Yes, it looks like Saddam Hussein's palace decorator had a go at it, but still.

The fact is, if Clownstick were marginally competent and/or sane, the fact that he likes his steak the same way a five-year-old does wouldn't even be fodder for snark. No one would care. But what does it tell you that it gets attention? There is something wrong with someone who takes a New York strip steak -- not the best cut but a pretty good one -- and has it cooked to a crisp, and served with ketchup? Go try that at the nearest expensive restaurant near you. If the chef doesn't come out and berate you for being a culinary retard, he probably spit on it. Not that you'd taste the difference.

I'm With Stupid

The exciting auditions for Celebrity Fuckface continue! Who will be crowned 'murka's reigning Fuckface?

It figures that someone just released from a mental hospital after treatment for a nervous breakdown would be good to go for playing the Clownstick inaugural bawl. They can have each other; I'm sure the Pepe the Frog acolytes are looking forward to overlong filler sets from Kanye, Kid Rock, Andrea Bocelli, and whatever goat-fucking country hacks get roped into this. Maybe they can all band together for a bro-country rendition of The Horst Wessel Song.

In the meantime, nice distraction on Drumpf's part in dodging the press conference he was supposed to have, in which he was going to clownsplain how he was going to plunder the treasury while pretending to keep his conflicts of interest under control. The motherfucker's entire existence is a conflict of interest, and he revels in knowing that everyone knows it, and there's not a goddamned thing anyone can or will do about it.

Hopefully any other do-gooder celebritards out there have learned by watching what happened to Al Gore and Leo DiCaprio, who made the pilgrimage to kiss the ring over climate change, only to have Okie oil-blower Scott Pruitt tapped to head the EPA. Keep devaluing your own currency by currying empty favor with this fucking guy, see what that gets you.

Freak Out

At this point, Clownstick is leading 244 electoral votes to 215, with a handful of states left to call. Friends 'n' neighbors, it's going to be a squeaker from hell at best, and he's likely to win. The betting markets were 80-20 for Hillary yesterday; they are 80-20 Clownstick right now. I don't know what the fuck happened in the last 24 hours, but there ya go. Feingold and Bayh already lost their Senate runs, so that's gone. It's looking pretty rough right now. She basically has to run the table on the Rust Belt states, and she's behind about 60-80k in each of them right now.

It would be a good time to repeat the last part of the penultimate paragraph of the previous post:

And if Drumpf does manage to win, then it's all over anyway, not only because of the destruction he will wreak on the very foundations of this country, but because it would mean there really are enough self-destructive morons to tear it all down, just to watch it burn.

I'm not sure what else to say. Regardless of the outcome, it might be a good time to pick up a new skill or three, do some more and different writing, figure out some monetization strategies to supplement income enough to save up some discretionary income, look for greener pastures.

Burying the Lede

While the media chases its collective tail over Drumpf's Second Amendment, amirite? wink-and-a-nod to the (judging from the number of applause breaks) crowd of drooling morons, they're missing the real story here. Throughout the entire speech, he's either incoherent or flat-out lying, there's simply no in-between whatsoever. Many people are saying he's a fucking moron who can't stop lying. Sad!

Here's a fun incoherent part, where he talks about Carrier air conditioning moving a manufacturing plant to Mexico, and how he'd single-handedly stop it all (unless, of course, they were Drumpf Signature Line Air Conditioners, the classiest and coolest air conditioners you can find, they're tremendous, believe me):

And two things are gonna happen, one of two things — one of two things are gonna happen. Number one, if you get them in time, they’re not moving. Throws it all off-balance, since they’re all off-kilter. Number one they’re not — now, nobody — people would say well, why doesn’t anybody use this? Why doesn’t anybody mention it?

SPOILER ALERT -- he never makes it to number two. Sad! I think we all needed to know that second thing that was totally gonna happen.

Broken Hearts Are For Assholes

Continuing with the all-Drumpf-all-the-time theme....

In the course of the last year, I've tried to balance the criticism of Drumpf with hopefully equal measures of criticism for his flock. If anything, they collectively are well due for a larger amount of contempt. As Rebecca Traister points out, a sui generis piece of shit like Drumpf doesn't just happen in a vacuum. Part of it, as always, is the ongoing addlement of large swathes of people who have marinated in "reality" teevee dipshittery for the past decade or so. They can no longer think straight, pure and simple.

But a more pernicious idea that must be confronted is the notion that Drumpf has taken over the party against its collective will. This is nonsense. Given its increasingly aggressive and fact-resistant rhetoric over the last couple decades, it was due for a toxic fuckhead to jump in and start driving the short bus. Someone with built-in name recognition just made the takeover that much easier.

News of the Whirled

Holy fucking shit:

During a 45-minute conversation, [Drumpf] explicitly raised new questions about his commitment to automatically defend NATO allies if they are attacked, saying he would first look at their contributions to the alliance. Mr. Trump re-emphasized the hard-line nationalist approach that has marked his improbable candidacy, describing how he would force allies to shoulder defense costs that the United States has borne for decades, cancel longstanding treaties he views as unfavorable, and redefine what it means to be a partner of the United States.

He said the rest of the world would learn to adjust to his approach. “I would prefer to be able to continue” existing agreements, he said, but only if allies stopped taking advantage of what he called an era of American largess that was no longer affordable.

Giving a preview of his address to the convention on Thursday night, he said that he would press the theme of “America First,” his rallying cry for the past four months, and that he was prepared to scrap the North American Free Trade Agreement with Mexico and Canada if he could not negotiate radically better terms.

He even called into question whether, as president, he would automatically extend the security guarantees that give the 28 members of NATO the assurance that the full force of the United States military has their back.

To the extent that he has discussed foreign policy at all, Drumpf has repeatedly leaned on his distaste for allied countries "free-riding" on organizational responsibilities and participation. Obama has mentioned his annoyance with this issue as well, as (for example) NATO requires each member nation to spend a minimum 2% of GDP, yet only five member nations (US, UK, France, Greece, Turkey) comply. Of course, since Drumpf doesn't read anything but Page Six and the Enquirer, he wouldn't know that he and Obama actually agree on a very important point, albeit with different results in what should be done about the issue.

So yeah, a lot of these countries are free-riding, but you know what? We keep bases and troops and missiles and nuclear warheads in many of them. We keep troops in South Korea and Okinawa (for which, contrary to yet another of Drumpf's countless lies, Korea and Japan do foot some of the bill) in order to preserve the balance of power (in other words, to guarantee we still call the shots) in the region.

The other thing to keep in mind is that if everyone paid their fair share, they would also expect to have more say in the overall strategy, and rightly so. Sometimes those interests don't align perfectly with our interests. But they paid their share, right? So some of this extra dough on our part is insurance against potential headaches. Part of getting to be the big dog means paying the extra freight.

For someone so obsessed with wealth and its seedier trappings, Drumpf seems completely ignorant of the concept of checkbook diplomacy.

This may actually be the most telling part of the article:

Mr. Trump repeatedly defined American global interests almost purely in economic terms. Its roles as a peacekeeper, as a provider of a nuclear deterrent against adversaries like North Korea, as an advocate of human rights and as a guarantor of allies’ borders were each quickly reduced to questions of economic benefit to the United States.

After enduring over three decades of this fucking asshole's self-regard in the national media, I have to say this encapsulates the core value I identified with Donald Trump way back in 1984, when I first heard of him:  virtually all of his relationships are purely transactional. This does not necessarily mean that he doesn't genuinely like anyone -- I believe he loves his kids, and probably even likes his current wife -- but it is clear that he mostly calibrates his regard for other humans based on the value they provide him and his all-important brand. Hell, Chris Christie and Mike Pence can tell you that.

More and more Drumpf is proving to be a pathologically sick -- as in mentally ill, seriously -- individual, a person whose inner demons, bizarre temperament, and sheer lack of impulse control should automatically disqualify him from any position of actual responsibility. Despite his and his sons' pathetic attempts to cast him as a friend of the working-class dog, Drumpf knows nothing of the world outside of the fancy hotels he jounces to and from, and he certainly has no clue about the longstanding alliances, relationships, arrangements, and histories that underpin the foreign policy of the United States of America.

He was obviously never qualified for any position of governmental power, but after this, it's debatable whether he should be in charge of anything more complicated than a banana stand.
 

Interview with the Vampire

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For Those About to Mock

Hey, if bullshit antics like this are what it takes to get the dopey corporate media to stop giving Trump a free pass, then I suppose we'll have to say it's worth it. It's time to stop with the usual "opinions vary on shape of earth" coverage, and call the man out for what he is -- a liar, a fraud, and a bully.

Part of this problem, unfortunately, is Serge Kovaleski's own fault. When he answered that he "didn't recall" seeing any such video that Trump was talking about, with "thousands" of Muslims in New Jersey "cheering" 9/11, thinking that would serve as a polite way of saying that Trump was full of shit, he should have understood what sort of prick he was dealing with. Kovaleski should have said, "If such a video exists, then Trump should be able to produce it and show us all. Has he not heard of the YouTube? His kids can probably show him how it works."

Let me put it this way:  Donald Trump is to the media what ISIS is to Europe and America -- a noisome, toxic presence, built up in part by the very forces it attacks, that needs to be shut down already, before it does any more damage. The vile sentiments that Trump unleashes from the shit-brains who support him are getting worse and worse, and are bound to erupt at some point.

The Enema Within

The circus comes to town, and more hijinks ensue. Violence against protesters has already occurred at several Trump rallies, mostly in the south, which more and more is looking like an area we should have either let go in the first place, or completely eradicated every trace of traitor-slaver existence. It's only a matter of time before someone gets seriously injured or worse.

These yahoos mean business, and by "mean business" I mean that these Horst Wessel rallies provide emotionally retarded morons an opportunity to be their true selves. And that means that if someone browner than themselves is at the rally, they're up to no good, and must be stopped by any means necessary. You know, pointing out that every word out of Trump's asshole-shaped mouth is a lie, including "and" and "the", makes the baby Jebus cry blood.

Not that they care if anything their hero says is true or accurate, or is even grounded in reality. It affirms their bullshit, it validates what they knew all along. There is no perceivable benefit to pointing out that Trump is a liar and a fool, that Ben Carson is even more so. These people don't care about facts or reality. They want what they want. They think Trump is the guy to give it to them, good and hard.

Hair Today, Goon Tomorrow

It's amazing yet immensely fun to realize that John Ellis Bush, of all people, has become the ideal target for Donald Trump's weekly campaign cockpunching. The added entertainment, given that Trump has been almost Palin-esque in his sheer contempt for anything resembling facts or objectivity, is that the glowing bull's-eye on Yeb's fivehead has made Trump more accurate in his attacks. He's forced Jeb to defend and obfuscate his brother's failures, and now Trump is calling Bush out for having to confer with his nonagenarian parents and dipshit brother over What To Do Now.

"Bush now has gotta cut back," Trump said at a campaign rally in Jacksonville, Florida. "Here's a guy who wants to run our country. And he can't even run his own campaign. And you know what? He's cutting back big."

The billionaire diagnosed Bush's campaign as "failing" and supplied with "no money." His White House bid, Trump said to wild applause, was "losing badly and embarrassing his family."

....

In Florida, Trump lambasted Bush's pivot towards family support, mocking Bush for "meeting today with mommy and daddy."

"They're working on the campaign," Trump jeered. "They're working!"

Even a stuffed asshole is right once in a while. Things will even out at some point, because Trump is a terminal douchebag with an impossibly high sense of self-regard, and he's a bully by nature. It is axiomatic that sooner or later he will step on his dick by talking shit about Oprah or beating up a penguin.

But in the meantime, it is fun watching him suck the lifeforce out of what remains of the vaunted Bush dynasty, political barnacles who have affixed themselves to the hull of this nation for several generations now. No doubt Poppy and Barb sincerely believe that after their Hispanic son, Neil and Marvin deserve a turn, or maybe one or more of Jeb's fuck-up children. That's the thing about this family of layabouts and parasites -- like rats and cockroaches, there's always one more of them.

We'll know pretty soon, like by January 1st, whether the Bushes still have any real juice or not, if Poppy or Dubya can actually lean on anyone with money these days. I think it's an even split -- they'll find a last few loyalists, maybe even enough to get them over the hump. Bush has the built-in advantage that, if he can just hang on for dear life long enough for that inevitable Trump implosion, he'll be a shoo-in.

What's hilarious is this belief that such an ascendancy is a logical event, rather than a symptom of the GOP's ongoing malaise (which is like referring to end-stage HIV as a nasty cold). The Bushes think that their next family scion belongs there, similar to how the Clintons believe that Hillary belongs there, but in a deeper and more pernicious way. One major difference is that there is no one in the Clinton family beyond Hillary waiting in the wings; maybe Chelsea wants in at some point, but there is at least as much chance that she grew up seeing how the sausage gets made and wants nothing to do with any of it. Even if she did, there's no one beyond her.

Anyway, back to the Donald-slamming-Jeb meme, what actually makes it mean something is how adeptly Trump illustrates the raw truth that there is no real reason for Jon Ellis Bush to be President of the United States. That there is also no earthly reason for Trump to be preznit is beside the point. We must take our nuggets of illumination wherever and however they happen to be unearthed. Sometimes it's from a billionaire turd miner.

Cruel and Usual

Now that the summer silly season is winding down, and "serious" (at least in comparison) observers and observations are getting more involved in what passes for a political discussion in this country, Donald Trump's oldest children are flooding the zone to defend dear old dad's spewage and tone.

Let's play devil's advocate for a few:  I don't doubt their sincerity. I believe that if he likes you, needs something from you, or you at least pull your weight, Donald Trump is probably a reasonably generous person, nice even. There, I said it.

He's an obnoxious tool partly by temperament, partly because, like Jesus and Gandhi and L. Ron Hubbard, Trump intuitively understands that he has to fully commit to his own hype. It's kind of like being in an up-and-coming band -- if you don't believe you're awesome and destined for success, why on earth should anyone else?

Fortunate Scum

The summer of the shark just gets sharkier, as noted Vietnam veteran Fuckface von Clownstick calls out our good friend Poor Ol' Straight Talk on his service:

"He is not a war hero. He is a war hero because he was captured. I like people that weren't captured, OK? I hate to tell you," Trump said. "I believe perhaps he is a war hero."

Von Clownstick is already trying to walk his bluster back as only he can -- by throwing the Veterans' Administration scandals and illegal immigration into the mix:

As Trump keeps surfacing at or near the top of polls, it's interesting to consider the ramifications of that. Sure, you can chalk it up to the usual bullshit -- small sample sizes, idiot respondents, the fact the election is still well over a year away (though primary season starts earlier and earlier, doesn't it?), but that doesn't completely capture the situation.

As the GOP clown car keeps filling up, turning into a short bus (17 Dipshits and Counting -- there's your reality show!), it becomes more and more apparent that as the Republican party loses its collective mind and continues empowering the baffled and bewildered of this country, it (the party and its vocal contingent) will only get worse. They have no intent of moderating their style, substance, message, or intent. And the Citizens United decision makes that possible, makes it easier.

While completely different in substance, Trump's appeal (such as it is) is much the same as that of Bernie Sanders:  in a business where insincerity is not only routine, but presumed, the idea that someone is saying something that they actually mean is unexpected, to say the least. Hillary Clinton literally cannot get a meal at Chipotle without testing it first with a focus group. Sanders clearly means what he says, while Trump at least appears to do the same, which still puts him ahead of the focus-grouped chumps.

Look, don't get me wrong. Donald Trump is a pimp and a prevaricator, five pounds of shit in a ten-pound bag, a useless blowhard fortunate enough to be in nation that can't seem to get enough of such types. He's a fucking teevee personality who has never run for or held public office, and upholds his inability to work well with others as a selling point. He has no goddamned business running for anything. You might as well vote for the meteorologist on your local station.

Sanders is sincere in addressing the US' frightening -- and increasing -- levels of systematic inequality, which are on the verge of becoming destabilizing in the sense of maintaining a civilized society. He has no chance of becoming president, because the people who own and run the system do not want any actual change. And the moment he becomes remotely viable, the Clintonistas will kneecap him. This is not just in their playbook, it's in the table of contents. The Republicans do not have to worry about Sanders, because the Democrats will happily do the dirty work for them. After all, they have mostly the same donors and owners.

Back to Trump. As long as he continues barking nonsense, he paradoxically reduces his overall viability, while enhancing his appeal to (ugh) his base (read:  paste-eating morons and people who view their own relatives as fair game for sexual opportunity). In a rational world, even he knows that he has no real chance.

But we are no longer in a rational world, if we ever were. It's comical enough that there are nearly twenty candidates vying for the office from one party, though some (Jindal, Christie, Perry, and several others) are almost certainly running for veep or a random cabinet slot. They're just maintaining visibility. But it's truly scary to think that there are any people at all who sincerely think that Donald Trump is remotely qualified for the job of President of the United States of America.

I think there's at least an even chance that at some point, maybe right before the primaries, or after the first or second successful one, Trump gets disavowed by the GOP establishment, takes his ego and his money and his fanbase, and pulls a Ross Perot. I would encourage him in that endeavor, as it would pretty much turn out as it did in 1992 for Perot, horking just enough votes away from the already divided Goopers to keep them out of the White House for another decade. (Not that that will keep them out of their gerrymandered congressional seats, no sirree. The knuckle-draggers will be making their mischief for years to come.)

But maybe Trump gets a few lucky breaks along the way, moderates his approach, brings more people onboard his campaign Titanic. At that point it becomes a litmus test for all of the above -- conservatives, liberals, Democrats, Republicans, teabaggers, hippies, the young and the old. If you're the sort of fist-shaking codger who campaigned for George McGovern in your feckless youth, but are now content to pull up the Social Security/Medicare ladder and skull-fuck your grandchildren, then Trump's your guy, and we thank your candor in admitting it.

On the other foot, if you're a young person who claims to Really Care, and then voting day comes and you don't show up, then kindly shut the fuck up. If you live in a state that requires a photo ID to vote -- as wrong-headed as that rule may be -- and you really want to vote, then you have a good fifteen (15) months or so to find the massive cash necessary to do so, and/or to procure the "primary" and "secondary" forms of identification. Plenty of time there, folks, and if you do it, you might actually get someone in there who can undo the unfairness of all that.

But the bottom line is, the elderly and the foolish show up to vote, because by definition they have nothing else to do. Hell, I think that voting beyond the local or state level is a useless joke, and even I vote. That's probably the sole advantage of the endless campaign season -- unless you're a complete moron, you have no excuse for not knowing when it's time to vote, and a plan for making sure you do it. And if you are a complete moron, you should be staying home and watching courtroom shows anyway.

So maybe we're about to find out where we're really at as a nation. Maybe the divisions are too deep and wide after all; maybe after nearly 400 years, the concept of the post-Westphalian centralized nation-state has run its course. If there is really a majority of simpletons clamoring to vote against their own rational self-interest, then perhaps it's time to find ways to disentangle your interests from theirs, to make sure your fortunes are not mutually tied. Maybe the coastal states that actually produce things and revenue break away from the welfare red states, and everyone figures out what their mutual interests actually are.

Perhaps the contradictions, as they say, need to be heightened. It's not just Trump, but the rest of the maroons jockeying for position that will be illuminating things in the months to come. Every election is like that, in some respect, but as economic and environmental conditions get more and more perilous, the situation becomes magnified.

[Update:  This is an interesting theory about Trump. Nothing would surprise me anymore.]

Scenes from a Bawl

Fucking Big Gulps, how do they work?

The political Gathering of the Juggalos known as CPAC is underway, and two of its most emblematic buffoons are performing their respective dancing-monkey routines right on cue. First is La Donald, he of gold-plated terlets and the classic freeze-dried comb-forward, spouting his deep thoughts to a half-empty room of what appear to be a largely geriatric group.

Maybe there was complimentary Maalox at the breakfast buffet. But, you know, it's a convention, a party, and as such, Trump shoulda known better than to take the 8:45AM slot. Even morons like to get shitfaced and (try to) get laid at a convention. It was the first slot of the day, though, and our boy just couldn't help himself.

And of course it wouldn't be a par-tay without the Tila Tequila of conservatardery, the one and only Saint Sarah. Palin can't even get her "jokes" straight, but what would you expect from someone who once, for a notoriously cheap sight gag, actually wrote "energy" and "tax" on the palm of her hand. See, the Big Gulp works on many levels, who cares if they're just about the only thing stupid Nanny Bloomberg didn't regulate with his stupid nanny regulation, so shut up you guys!

Extra points to the butthurt common taters and conserva-tweeters at the usual sites. It is actually possible to be "liberal", and to both view Bloomberg overweening nannyism as borderline retarded, if not simply useless, and to see Palin for what she really is at this point -- a garden-variety jackass, reduced to split-second attention grabbers like sipping on a Big Gulp (way to stick it to The Man, Truth Teller!) and cracking wise about her own tits. (See, Todd got the guns, Sarah got the rack. Ahahahaha. I know, right? Fucking George Carlin must be spinning in his grave, going, "Why didn't I think of that one? It's fuckin' genius!")

But then again, these are people for whom buying a Chick-Fil-A sammich last summer was a brave political stance. They can close their eyes and pretend it's stil 2009-10, Palin's schtick is so well-preserved and unchanged. Surprised she didn't say something about "pallin' 'round with terrorists." For the believers, this is manna from heaven; for Palin, this is just a paid breather between reality shows, now that Fixed Noise cut off her allowance. They'll turn out in droves later in the year for her War On Xmas book, coming this 1998.

Someone needs to explain to these bozos (like it'd even be worth the time) that "humor" tends to work better when it's grounded in reality. Since no one has done anything to the Big Gulp, sacred avatar of 'murkin freedom and consumerist self-actualization, all that happened here is that someone took a drink of a sodypop (no word on whether it was Faygo or not, or if she sprayed the oldsters with it), and no one but Miss Thang's laughing-and-trying-a-bit-too-hard fan club really gives two shits. Enjoy your adipose deposits of sodium benzoate, laughtards.



Sarah! Sarah! I maded dis for youse!

No matter. These are figures of no consequence any longer, not getting it yet that the people who are actually listening to them are not allowed to leave the house with money, and that actual sentient beings have moved on. As with their musical Juggalo brethren, rather than hatred or fear or even contempt, it's best to simply regard them with a mixture of humor and bemusement. These are nothing more than tremendously silly people, some of whom still don't get that their fifteen minutes were up several years ago.

[Update:  The Guardian has a pretty good live blog of this hot mess. I didn't realize just how spot-on the comparison with the GotJ was. Jay-zus. If I'd been thinking, I would have printed up 5,000 cheap-ass tee-shirts with Big Gulps on them, and sold them for $40 each outside the, ahem, ballroom. You know, at the Gaylord.]

Yep. You really showed 'em, honey.

 [Sorry about the multiple edits and updates. This stuff really does keep writing itself.]

It's Hard Out Here for a Chimp

Apparently noted performance artist and World's Foremost Authority Ronald McDonaldDonald Trump has seriously decided to sue Bill Maher for making a joke about him. Awesome. This is totally not another publicity stunt, so stop it, you guys! He's a serious bidnisman and shit!

Again, people, if you need any further proof that karma does not exist, I don't know what to tell you, surf the cloaca of the internets, I'm sure it'll become much clearer, if you have the stomach. I know I don't.

By the way, super-genius, where's the proof we were promised a year or two ago about the falsity of Obammy's birf certificate? Yeah, that's what I thought. Fugging chump.

Trump: The Art of the Douche

Gosh, do you think Captain Combforward's big scoop is that his turd-in-a-punch-bowl teevee show is about to pull-start yet another wretched, interminable season? Experts' opinions vary! Some say that two plus two equals four, some say that it equals six. I say we can all get along, and agree to disagree that it's five, just for the sake of comity, if not reality.

Also, too, this toxic peckerhead's entertainment value has long outlived its shelf life, can we agree on that as well? Exactly how many times does The Greatest Country In The History Of Evah need to watch some variation on "Meat Loaf goes apeshit on Gary Busey"? Perhaps once we've lived the cycle of watching Honey Boo Boo auction her storage shed and spend her duck-call millions on a cee-ment pond, we'll achieve dipshit nirvana.

The ability of animals like Trump to not only survive but continue to thrive was certainly a factor in my deciding that there simply could not be a just and gracious god, when I was, like, ten years old. But really and come on, the fact that this gaping asshole still gets away with it, rubs your nose in it, sucka -- well, that proves not only that there is no god, but that there isn't even karma. I mean, sweet Jebus, can we not fire this jackass already?

Update [10/24/12 9:00 PDT]:  Ahahahahaha. These stupid publicity stunts of Drumpf's are like a nasty car wreck you pass by -- you really know you shouldn't slow down and look, but you just can't help it. And sure enough, it's always nastier than you thought, and lamer, and you end up walking away feeling worse about yourself and humanity. I actually hope Obama takes him up on it, just to watch Chump squirm and weasel out of his bluster.

Failing that, maybe we can all chip in a buck apiece, and bribe this dime-store asshole to go away already.

Hair Today, Gall Tomorrow

Renaissance man and serial monogamist Donald Trump's twitter-twatting is the stuff of legend. Near as I can tell, this is not a parody. He coins amazing, memorable turns of phrase:

Boy howdy, if this century gets its own Algonquin Round Table going, the Trumpster's got a seat right next to Kanye West, ya heard? Jesus, I hope someone remembered to chronicle that timeless nugget o' wisdom.

But wait, there's more. He's not just the Samuel Johnson of the new millennium, you miserable peons. He's also a formidable baseball prognosticator:

Bang zoom, chumps! Forget that Verlander gave up three hits and one run (and that to start to ninth inning) in leading the Tigers to a 3-games-to-none leg up on the Yanks in the ALCS. The Donald has spoken.