Hey, Did I Miss Anything? (Ferret? FERRET!)
Well, hello there. Been a minute. Let’s see if I remember how to do this. Orange Man…good? Do I have that right? Anyway, I’ve returned from summer vacation, ready to resume the fight to take the country back from the busloads of socialist groomer antifas, and make America so goshdarn great again.
(As ever, https://showercapblog.com/hey-did-i-miss-anything/ is where you click t’get links n’ overstimulating colors)
Hmmm. Might be a bit rusty. Well, I’ll figure it out. Have you lost weight, by the way? Your ass looks great in those pants.
Hope I didn’t miss anything too important. Like maybe an unceasing cycle of increasingly inane culture war thinkpiece skirmishes over some rando’s country song? Or, I dunno, some former President and his dipshit co-conspirators getting indicted on a whole buncha felony counts?
I confess, despite years of reading and writing about these dorks, I was unprepared for the intensity of the shitfit the Children of the Candy Corn pitched at the sight of that mugshot. What a delightful meltdown. Historically, it has been necessary to procure a golden ticket to the Wonka factory to witness such wonders.
Jesse Watters dry-humped the photo in Tucker Carlson’s old chair, moaning ecstatically about how “good” and “hard” inmate number P01135809 looked, in addition to super-convincing proclamations of his own “unblemished record of heterosexuality,” before inviting RFK Jr to join him in a rousing game of “soggy mugshot.”
Dinesh D’Souza thinks it makes the Dotard “the ultimate gangsta.” Laura Loomer expressed the agreed-upon view that getting booked in what she refers to as “the blackest jail (in) the state of Georgia” magically delivers the Black vote on a silver platter, which I think demonstrates the intellectual prowess of the white nationalist movement rather elegantly.
Yeah, I bet that’s what happens, Laura. I hear Jim Clyburn’s gonna switch parties and endorse at the next Unite the Right rally.
Now Sarah Palin wants a civil war, and I think if we agree in advance to provide humanitarian aid, in the form of a few Hereford ranches’ worth of dewormer, we can leave the rest to natural selection.
Mugshot merch is all the rage, of course. Gotta have the latest t-shirt on while you’re chanting “lock her up” alongside all the other rubes, right? “Hillary for Prison” is so 2016.
Still, I grudgingly congratulate the guy for weighing in at a svelte 215 pounds at the time of his arrest. (Stormy Daniels swapped gigs with Daniel Dale to provide fact-checking on that claim. And though I’m generally a Dale fan, I suggest you pass on his end of that bargain.)
Anyway, Tangerine Idi Amin hoped to delay his many trials until such time as Elon could make good on that promise to deliver brain-swapping technology, (so THAT’S what Eric is for!) but, as in all his endeavors, from denuclearizing the Korean Peninsula to taming the wily umbrella…he failed.
And so we have a trial date. March 4th. rIGhT BeFOrE suPeR TuESDaY, so primary season in the land of bomb threats targeting libraries just got even zanier, which makes me extra grateful that so many of the Very Proudest of Boyz will be spending this election cycle (and the next one and the next one and the next one) in time out.
He’s just worried he’ll miss Chris Christie’s concession speech; and sure, “just DVR it,” you’re thinking, but imagine how difficult it must be to operate a remote control with those stunted, ineffectual phalanges. You heartless bastards.
When Team DiSappointus named their super PAC “Never Back Down,” you knew there was no fucking way the universe’s many hubris-abhorring gods were gonna let that shit slide, and sure enough, they’re already pulling door-knockers from key states. Too busy harassing nosey 15-year-olds, y’see. Roomer has it the candidate will be dropping out soon, anyway.
DeSantis worked hard to transform himself into the sort of fellow who gets booed at a vigil for victims of a hate crime, because you can’t get anywhere in Republican politics without being the sort of fellow who gets booed at a vigil for victims of a hate crime, but possessed as he is with the inescapable gawkiness of birthday clown on the sex offender registry in the uncanny valley, Ron finds himself losing ground to the more personable bigots.
Which brings us to the latest belle of the MAGA ball, who, owing to the front-runner’s cowardice, had the braying jackass lane all to himself at the first debate. Vivek Ramaswamy blathers endlessly on like a chatbot that’s been fed nothing but Breitbart op-eds, Ashley Madison profiles, and low-quality meth, so naturally, an increasing number of Republican primary voters want to invest him with the authority to launch nuclear strikes.
Ramaswamy spouts so much stupid, stupid shit, even Fox has started calling him out. His foreign policy ramblings have been proclaimed “criminally stupid” by no less an authority than Marc Thiessen, who was undoubtedly thrilled to find himself on the other end of that designation for a change.
Devastatingly, in the midst of this increased scrutiny, Ramaswamy will no longer be permitted to lose himself in either the music or the moment on the campaign trail, because he doesn’t own it, Eminem does, and it seems Mr. Mathers is understandably less than eager to see his work associated with a fashy little twerp’s bid for power.
Just a heads-up: if Vivek compensates by debuting a karaoke rendition of Rich Men North of Richmond, I’m retiring. Anyway, though denounced as a false Slim Shady, he still managed to procure the coveted O.J. Simpson endorsement.
Couldn’t help but grin at the headline “Super PAC mounts major effort to carry Burgum back to the debate stage,” because that was actually the backup plan for Sisyphus, if it turned out he was somehow really into rolling boulders uphill.
Meanwhile, Kevin McCarthy’s trying to bribe the Chip Roy wing of his feral caucus with the prospect of an impeachment inquiry he lacks both the evidence and the votes for, but Chip won’t bite, saying he believes not shutting the government down will give his dog autism.
Yes, here in the most advanced nation in human history, damn near 40% of the dog-owning public thinks “vaccines could cause cognitive issues in dogs and may lead them to develop autism,” because it’s not enough anymore to simply take that suicide dive from our perch atop the food chain, we’ve got to drag everybody else down with us.
Tennessee House Republicans voted to silence the previously expelled, since reelected Rep. Justin Jones, in case anybody thought previous outbursts of racist authoritarianism were outliers brought on by spoiled fish in the Capitol cafeteria.
What else, what else….CPAC and Project Veritas are rotting to death from within, and Mike Lindell had his line of credit cut off, but somehow the Consequences Fairy still has time to visit the Giuliani household damn near every day. Santa’s a cuuuuuuuck.
I find myself envying future generations the experience of reading the inevitable multi-volume Rudy Giuliani biography. What a satisfying ride that will be. Book One: Rudy Fucks Around charts the rise of an authentic American monster, as he attains wealth and power, and worse, acclaim and admiration. By the time he’s Time Magazine’s Person of the Year and presidential front-runner, the reader will be grinding their teeth at all the unchecked fuckery.
Then along comes Book Two: Rudy Finds Out, which picks up at Four Seasons Total Landscaping, and delivers 500-or-so pages of sweet, slapstick comeuppance. “But Grandpa, there’s no way the Borat thing really happened, right?” and I’ll just smirk a little smirk and unwrap another Werther’s Original.
Anyhow, Rudy’s been found liable for defaming a pair of Georgia election workers, and word is Jack Smith may charge him with operating an autogolpe with a blood alcohol concentration over the legal limit, oh, and also he was possibly compromised by Russian intelligence, according to an FBI whistleblower.
I do enjoy watching traitors squirm as the law closes in. Been a good week for that. Eastman, Meadows, Navarro…keep ‘em comin’, says I.
Well, I made myself write out “I will take the high road regarding Mitch McConnell’s health struggles” on the blackboard 5,952 times, but what ultimately enabled me to persevere was my long-standing determination to resemble the ghouls who hang out with Laura Ingraham as little as possible.
Hey, filthy communists! If you want Ted Cruz’s Real Murican beers, which are definitely not Bud Lights, COME (to Cancún) AND TAKE ‘EM! They are manly, explicitly anti-woke beers, and he will be drinking WAY MORE of them than two a week, no matter what Fauci mandates! TED WILL NOT COMPLY*!
I see Clarence Thomas finally fessed up to being Hitler-collecting American oligarch Harlan Crow’s sugar baby, allowing him to return, with a clear conscience, to the important work of imposing Harlan’s policy preferences on an unwilling public.
If anybody needs me, I’ll be camped out in front of whatever venue winds up hosting the first debate of the Arizona Republican Senate primary. Blake Masters vs. Kari Lake? Dear lord. What’re they gonna argue about, the date JFK Jr. finally comes back?
Well, missed a few stories, might take me a couple weeks to get back into the swing of things, but it’s a start. Cap’s back, bay-bee!
Hey, I’m running behind, so I’m not going to be as eloquent as I’d like, but I do want to thank everyone who reached out with a message of support after the ol’ pre-hiatus breakdown. I read every word, two or three times over, and I can’t express how much they meant, at a time when I really fuckin’ needed the encouragement. And the beer, of course.
The time away was, as I’d hoped, rejuvenating, and I suppose I’m as close to working my shit out as any of us ever are, so let’s get back to work. Ascendant American fascism isn’t gonna shovel itself onto the ash heap of history, y’know…
Oh, and I’m making a half-assed attempt to rebuild the following on the Hellsite Formerly Known as Twitter, ahead of some comic book activity. @john_luzar if you’re interested.
*Unless you insult his wife and father first.
= new reply since forum marked as read
Welcome back.
Hope you are well and rested, had enough mental floss to make it through this next phase!
We really missed you, especially since all the late night guys and writers are on strike.
It's kind of Orwellian. Our sense of humor is beginning to atrophy!
(hair on fire emoji).
Your inspired words ( yes, they are inspired) 
your humor and your logic have been truly missed.
Welcome back . You have been missed.
welcome back!
Welcome back to the Hellscape of Fascists trying to take over the world. 
I would be laughing and crying too hard.
I'm so glad you're back in the saddle!! You have been truly missed. 
Welcome back!