Better Projects Than Project 2025: Manhattan, Alan Parsons, Blair Witch...(Ferret/Shower Cap)
Having never actually been in disarray as a Dem before, I’ll confess I don’t care for it. That said, in my official capacity, as a drunken internet loudmouth in a superhero bathrobe & luchador mask, I wield little clout in the weighty debates we face, which you’ll agree is for the best. What I do have is a blog dedicated to chroniclin’ the fashy shenanigans of the cringiest of all possible authoritarian death cults, and no shortage of such shenanigans to chronicle.
(Makes more sense with links, I promise: https://showercapblog.com/better-projects-than-project-2025-manhattan-alan-parsons-blair-witch/)
In fact, since the first two spectral visitations apparently weren’t enough to get through to the American electorate, we’ve received a helpful haunting from the Ghost of Fashy Shenanigans Yet to Come, in the form of Project 2025. While the Dotard insists he did not have sexual relations with that autocracy blueprint, there’s too much evidence to the contrary for even Ronny Jackson to spin.
The general idea seems to be to release a bunch of domestic terrorists, presumably directly into the jobs of those civil servants purged by the Loyalty Czar, so everybody can get started on construction of the detention camps, cuz the newly weaponized Justice Department’s gonna have all sortsa vermin n’ animals n’ enemies of the people to lock up.
“Trump comes back in January, I’ll be on his heels coming back, and I will run the biggest deportation force this country has ever seen,” said former ICE director Tom Homan at a panel on immigration policy. “They ain’t seen shit yet. Wait until 2025.”
Oh, and don’t worry, birthing vessels, the guy who won’t stop bragging about ending Roe v. Wade hasn’t forgotten about you! Project 2025 offers several creative strategies to continue chipping away at your remaining bodily autonomy rights!
Why, just take Wisconsin Congressrelic Glenn Grothman’s hand, he’ll lead you on a magical journey backwards through time to the enchanted kingdom of Nineteen Sixty, when Glenn Grothmans were kings, and game show hosts could rape whoever they wanted in peace.
I’m sure the RNC next week will be a source of great inspiration for the many theatrical designers working on revivals of Cabaret for whatever reason. Amber Rose will be there, to fête the guy Putin leads around on a leash as an “alpha male.” Numerous indicted fake electors will serve as delegates, underlining this year’s “fuck the rule of law, fuck it right in the ear” theme.
Slated to open for the Turd Emperor himself is Dana White, because who wants to be introduced by some cuck who keeps his spousal abuse confined to the privacy of his home?
Nikki Haley released her delegates, but not quite submissively enough to earn an invite, which is a shame, she mighta made some lucky incel a real nice tradwife.
Marjorie Taylor Greene announced she’s dedicating her speech to all those great, great, Founding Fathers who signed the Declaration of Independence, most especially Paul Revere, Hulk Hogan, Alexander Hamilton, Gordon Gekko, Joe Camel, “Big Jim” Monroe, Honey Boo Boo, the New Kids on the Block, and J. Jonah Jameson.
Speaking of United States Representatives who repeatedly demonstrate sub-third-grade intellects, Lauren Boebert still believes a wide variety of untrue things, and remains in possession of an odd compulsion to remind the world of that fact.
Like, all she had to do was sit back and let Joe Biden be old, but no, she climbs on top of her desk to scream REMEMBER ME I’M THE BEETLEJUICE HANDJOB LADY AND I’M ALSO AN ANTI-VAXXER SO YOU SEE MY BRAIN DOES ALL SORTS OF THINGS BADLY.
Okay. Thanks for checking in, Congresswoman.
If anybody’s in disarray, it’s the Freedumb Caucus. Primary challenges, ritual excommunications, I think I heard Bob Good curse Troy Nehls on the way out, something like, “May thy children and thy children’s children and thy children’s children’s children know naught but the madding drone of that same goddamn speech Chip Roy gives every time he sees a microphone.” Pretty harsh, if you ask me.
Every so often, these howler monkeys take a stab at actually governing the country, and it goes about as well as you’d think. Mike Johnson tried to squeeze a low-stakes spending bill past ‘em this week, which was fairly adorable.
Anna Paulina Luna’s “Pay Attention to Anna Paulina Luna Act” also narrowly failed…or did it?
Despite all the failure, the gleam we saw in Speaker Moses’ eye whilst idly daydreaming about all the immigrants he’d get to hurt in the Reich to come was borderline filthy; I imagine he received one of those Naughty Thoughts Checkup calls from his kid.
Seems poor, dumb Jimmy Comer’s been financing his impeachment inquiry with McDonald’s rewards points. Hey, you never know, this may be the year he finally catches a hot streak come Monopoly season, and if so…watch yourself, Hunter.
Stuff’s way more dignified over on the Senate side. Cucumber sandwiches were served as Republicans blocked a bill codifying Roe v. Wade protections. Coach Tuberville cut off all the crusts personally, and he only required five bandaids this time, so he’s making real progress.
Josh Hawley proclaimed himself a proud Christian Nationalist, no doubt impressing all fourteen of the Turning Point USA rejects who read his treatise on “manhood.”
Equally impressive was Susan Collins’ solemn vow to vote for neither Trump nor Biden, the latest masturbatory, brimming-with-misplaced-self-regard rationalization from the fucking GOAT.
Rapist-appointed federal Judge Joshua Kindred resigned after an investigation revealed hundreds of pages of harassing texts to clerks and other colleagues, earning an invite to Steve King’s poker game for Dudes Who Somehow Managed to Go Too Far for MAGA. Lotta pedophiles at that table. Roy Moore’s tell is he signs a high school girl’s yearbook when he has a good hand.
Rudy Giuliani’s bid to shield his precious collection of experimental hair dyes from those election workers he defamed by declaring bankruptcy failed, so let the asset seizure commence!
Off-Brand Orbán invited the Hungarian original down to Marm-a-Lago, to show off his stolen classified document collection, and seek pointers on topics ranging from dissent crushing to umbrella closing. Their buddy Vlad was supposed to lead a workshop on “Carrying Out Assassinations on Foreign Soil,” but he bailed at the last minute, reminiscent of that oft-delayed victory parade through the streets of Kyiv.
Well, let it never be said Candace Owens doesn’t stand by her man.
Somewhat regrettably, her “man,” in this instance, would be, well…Hitler.
Technically Hitler and Mengele this time, but it’s Hitler Candace likes best. Y’see, she was defending Nick Fuentes from Jordan Peterson, and OH MY GOD I SPEND TOO MUCH TIME ONLINE.
Yeah, as much fun as I’m having, sifting through the push notifications about Joe’s every stammer n’ stumble, I do believe I’m going to back slowly away from the 24-hour news cycle for the remainder of the weekend, lest I get conscripted into the Peterson/Fuentes wars.
I’m thinking of enlisting with the Gay Furry Hackers, actually. I’m not gay, or a furry, or a hacker, but clowning the Heritage Foundation is a cause I can get behind, and anyway, I hear the chow’s good*.
Definitely time to start drinking. For those who’re kind enough to contribute to my delinquency, (via PayPal, Venmo, or Cash App!) know that I’ll be specifically targeting the brain cells that store the information about who Nick Fuentes is. If the beer doesn’t work, I’m open to shock therapy. But let’s try beer first.
And hey, maybe by the time I sober up we’ll be back in array. That’d be pretty fucking sweet. Either way, you stay safe out there, old chum…
* GET IT?
= new reply since forum marked as read
