Friday, December 39th in America.

And so ends the first week of January?
Raise a glass as a tweeter is silenced.

Take a deep breath after watching the violence.
Unfurl from your fetal position. Crawl out from under the covers, and get back into the kitchen.

Listen to podcasts about nothing at all, and try not to think about nuclear codes.

They wiped their own turds on the halls and trampled one of their own.
The terrible chodes of the Jim Crow Caucus still got up and spoke against democracy and decency and being woke.
One of them doesn’t know what Orwellian means, what a big fucking joke.

A lawmaker lauded Hitler and openly acknowledged that children are not born racist and full of hate — they must be taught to hate, to oppress, and to live in constant fear.

COVID rages on without a clear plan to stem it.
Some of our kids haven’t seen friends in almost a year.

Grateful for Warnock & Ossoff & Abrams! Grateful for my family. Grateful for my friends, my power circles, my community. Grateful for the vaccine.

Imagine your epitaph reads:
“Grampa left this earth by self-inflicted testicular electrocution while trying to reclaim a painting of Tip O’Neill for our family because a reality TV personality told him to.”

It’s time to fire that asshole I wish y’all hadn’t hired. Here’s a song I can’t stop humming, an incantation, some limericks, not particularly cunning…

🎵 There is a Rotting Pumpkin in My White House 🎵

We gave it notice in November, it needs to go.
I’m worried that even if they come for it, its seeds have been sown.
I know I’m not supposed to wish you dead, Dumpster Pumpkin.
So I will wish that you may know peace instead.
Peace can mean silence, yes let’s start with that.
I’d like you to…
Eat shit, Dumpster Pumpkin.
Be gone with you! You rotten, barely sentient fetid squash pile.
We bid you farewell in November, but you will stink up the joint well into January?
You, hanging on, like a turd with arms, clutching the rim
of your swiftly flushing terlet.
Will next week bring more baby monsters of the Q Cucks Klan,
Vanilla ISIS, Yee Hawdists, and Branch Dildonians?
There is a fetid, pustulent, self-composting pumpkin stinking up my White House.
Where are you when I need you, Four Seasons Total Landscaping?

It’s not just about setting precedent, but also about barring him from office. He needs to lose his Presidential PERS! (Remember $750 in taxes?!) He needs to not have a travel budget and full Secret Service detail paid for by the people- including the ones who loved him and ate his lies out of dog bowls like good little death cult members.

But, but, but BUT HER EMAILS!