Sundowning Rapist Demands Nap (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Greetings, fellow Enemy Within™️! Hope you enjoyed the lovely autumn week! The crisp weather, the changing of the foliage, the perhaps temporary absence of U.S. military personnel rounding us up into camps for disparaging Dear Leader!
(While you still have freedom to do so, click here to get this post with nifty nooz links: https://showercapblog.com/sundowning-rapist-demands-nap/)
I keep coming back to the boiling frog thing, because we’ve somehow managed to normalize our way into a coin flip for the nuclear codes with a decomposing sex offender whose closing argument is “Harvey Weinstein got schlonged.” All the water has long since vaporized out of our poor pot, and been replaced, with Russian hooker pee, which, it turns out, is really rather unpleasant when heated.
There seems to be a direct correlation between his rapidly declining mental state and his open embrace of naked fascism, so I think we need to consider the possibility that he’s entered into a secret pact with Putin to divvy up Poland. He’ll mention the invasion in passing, about 90 minutes into the American Carnage II: Blitzkrieg Boogaloo inauguration speech, between the snake story and the part where he hits on Katie Britt.
Because he’s fading fast, folks. We’ve arrived at the “applying the bronzer to the entire face is too much trouble” phase. The “Kamala will abolish cows” phase. The “communication is too difficult for me now, but tell ya what, let’s put on some music so y’all can watch me wobble for an hour” phase.
And don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly glad this latest malfunction (which historians have already labeled the Night of the Undulating Dingbat) has jump-started the overdue conversation on cognitive fitness, but honestly, wasn’t that far and away the best version of Donald Trump you’ve ever seen? Shit, let’s get him some rubber pants and find him a farm upstate where he can bop and sway to his broken little heart’s content.
Because in those increasingly rare moments when his brain manages to eke out a little human speech, it’s to threaten to send SEAL Team Six after Adam Schiff and Nancy Pelosi, (THE ICE CREAM FREEZER IS SECURE, REPEAT, SECURE!) or to urge violent retribution against female hecklers.
At a Univision town hall, former registered Republican Ramiro González gave America’s overmatched political media a much-needed journalism lesson, asking Off-Brand Orbán, to his face, to justify his inaction on January 6th, while roving gangs of his subpar supporters rampaged through the Capitol in search of Vice Presidents to lynch.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” responded the Dotard, stopping momentarily, for old times’ sake, to exaggerate the size of the crowd, “It was a day of LOVE.” Which is true enough, I suppose. Love of mob violence. Love of the rapist game show host who grants permission to dress up like a Game of Thrones extra and engage in said violence. Love of…well, call it fascism. Cuz that’s what it is.
Now, obviously, no decent person could justify or defend this shit, which, I suppose, explains how the task fell to Glenn Youngkin, who could barely hack up a little half-assed, Orwell-for-the-borderline-braindead spin before withering under Jake Tapper’s not mad/just disappointed look.
Still, we have a powerful ally, in the fetid wad of Adderall-soaked bologna rotting away between the GOP nominee’s ears. Like, personally, if I needed to win the Rust Belt in order to stay out of prison, I’d avoid shitting on auto workers. If the greatest threat to my candidacy happened to be a millions-strong army of furious women, I might resist the urge to dunk on Nikki Haley, particularly when she’s offering to campaign on my behalf. But then, I’m not a particularly stable genius.
No wonder he won’t release his medical records. Which presumably consist of a yellowed, decades-old certificate for passing a cognitive test, and a single McDonald’s napkin on which someone has hastily scrawled, in crayon, “Held together, barely, with Scotch tape and spite. Could collapse into a pile of slugs at any moment.”
Anyway, I don’t need to tell you that jousting with little kids over the causes of the Civil War can be tiring work, but suffice to say, this Dotard is alllll tuckered out. He’s cancelling interviews left and right during these, the closing days of the campaign, lacking the stamina to even swat at softballs lobbed by the likes of Dan Bongino.
In contrast, Vice President Harris spent the week barnstorming swing states, with a brief interlude to fact-check Bret Baier’s bullshit, right on his own home turf. Got better ratings than Donnie One-Term did, too.
According to Bob Woodward, former Defense Secretary James “Mad Dog” Mattis seconded everything General Mark Milley said about their former boss, you remember, “fascist to the core,” danger to the nation, yadda yadda yadda. Unconfirmed at press time are allegations that H.R. McMaster told Woodward Trump’s “noxious, unendurable flatulance” frequently undermined, and even endangered the national interest, on one occasion sending an unnamed foreign leader’s spouse to the hospital during a state dinner.
Shouldn’t need saying, but Donald Trump is not “the father of IVF,” despite what you may’ve heard to the contrary.
He did, however, yet again offer hush money to Stormy Daniels, so I think we can safely say the ship has sailed on the whole “ever learning anything” thing. Which might explain his unshakable faith in the punitive tariffs every economist alive insist would kidney-punch our economy.
Must be the tariff policy that’s getting all the dudes with swastika flags to turn out for the boat parades. Yup, when I see a bunch of dudes on a boat flying a swastika flag, I think, “wow, those guys sure are passionate about protectionism!”
Former Trump attorney Christina Bobb, who currently works for the RNC, called for a national “cleansing” to “clean out the filth,” in a bizarre rant about Diddy and pedophilia, further demonstrating the American Right’s deep, abiding belief in Donald Trump’s trade policy. Mike Flynn is positively horny to unleash “the gates of hell” upon returning to the White House…on insufficiently taxed imports, surely.
Turns out JD Vance’s financial policy advisor, Aaron Kofsky, leads a secret double life as internet coke fiend “PsychoticMammal,” whose boundless love of substance abuse has led him to fill Reddit with tips n’ tricks for smuggling drugs onto domestic flights. And just like that, Don Jr.’s advocacy for JD’s addition to the ticket makes a little more sense, doesn’t it?
I see Elon Musk is out to pad his Guinness World Record for largest loss of personal fortune in human history, regurgitating the same lies about Dominion Voting Systems that cost his pal Rupert a cool $787 million. All I’m saying is, y’know…get that $100 bribe up front, Pennsylvanians.
Heavily armed Real Americans liberated communities in Tennessee and North Carolina from the tyranny of hurricane relief, in case anybody’s looking for fresh material for our nation’s tourist brochures.
It takes a generational fop to get emasculated by a fella who once made his living putting on itty-bitty leather underpants, dousing himself in baby oil, and pretending to fight, but Donald J. Trump is no ordinary fop.
Following a rally in Coachella, the Trump campaign abandoned hundreds of their most devoted supporters in the middle of a literal fucking desert, offering the latest in a series of clear-as-the-nose-on-your-fucking-face lessons to the least teachable creatures to ever walk on two legs. I assume more than a little cannibalism went down.
Ted Cruz was publicly humiliated this week, though not, for a change, by a presidential candidate he endorsed.
Having apparently run out of convicts, Vladimir Putin turned to his sister shithole, North Korea, for cannon fodder. That’s right there in Chapter 39 of the Superpower Handbook: When Your Three-Day War is Going Really, Really Well.
So yeah. Lil’ wacky out there. Anyhoo, I know you’re getting hit up for donations ninety-six times an hour right now, but know that when I rattle my tip jar, (now accepting Venmo, Cash App and PayPal!) every nickel goes towards not the betterment of the United States, but beer that I won’t even share.
Or, you can post this rant on social media, sign up on the email list at showercapblog.com, and follow @john_luzar for nuthin’! And I’ll just…I dunno, lick a toad or something. We’ll figure it out. Home stretch, folks! Stay safe out there!
= new reply since forum marked as read
one of my favorites so far!!!
... between the GOP nominees' ears"
Perfect! 
