Thank You for Not Rioting (Ferret/Shower Cap)

Well, apocalyptic enough for ya? Cities burning while a bloated, malignant, wannabe warlord sows fear and hate, visions of conquest contorting his already vaguely demonic countenance…I’ve read enough Conan the Barbarian comics to know this is gonna get worse before it gets better.

(As ever, links n’ such await all those bold enough to click here: https://showercapblog.com/thank-you-for-not-rioting/)

Yeah, this week marked our official Return to Anti-Normalcy™️, I think. We knew it was coming, and now it’s here, that familiar fecal firehose, blasting us square in the face every minute of every day. (And if you think it’s bad now, just wait till the whales take their vengeance for the windmill madness we unleashed.)

On Monday, I received push notifications from every news outlet on Earth, when the nation of my birth actually managed to navigate a mundane procedural hurdle in the election certification process without the violent intervention of a frothing mob of the aggressively subpar. For a change. Whatever you may think of the relative high points of the American experiment, it’s all participation trophies from here on out.

…assuming any of us survive the game show host’s wars of conquest, that is. A draft of a planned day one executive order has leaked, directing the finest minds at the Pentagon to develop a saber he can clutch in his official portrait with those stunted, ineffectual phalanges of his without looking ridiculous. Or maybe something equally plausible, like cloning dinosaurs, or perpetual motion.

Watching the drool drip down the giddy little goose-steppers’ chins as they hungrily invoke “manifest destiny” is fairly disconcerting, sure, but on the other hand…I dunno, fellas, were I part of a dewormer-guzzling death cult, I’d want to delay destiny as long as possible.

Like, remember the blithering dingbat who tried to shoot up the Pizzagate restaurant, because he thought they were trafficking children in the basement, only the restaurant didn’t even have a fucking basement? Well, that exceptionally stable genius got himself shot to death this week, when he pulled a gun on some cops at a traffic stop. THAT, my friends, is MAGA manifest destiny.

I promise you, any Turd Reich campaign for lebensraum would end with Field Marshal Seb Gorka’s troops disappearing into quicksand. (Is there even quicksand in Greenland? I don’t know, but they’d find it. In some Greenlandic pizza parlor’s non-existent basement.)

Still, our legal claim here is unassailable. We all remember when Harry Truman thumb-wrestled control of the island away from Hamlet, on the deck of the Mayflower. Plus, Don Junior’s drug dealer friend seems positively enthusiastic about the prospect of annexation, as do the homeless people he bribed and costumed.

Naturally, we can’t even launch imperial aggression like adults, we’re stuck with a preening manchild petulantly proclaiming IT’S THE GULF OF AMERICA NOW, BAZINGA. Yeah, and Mexico’s gonna pay to replace all the globes, too.

Amazingly, no billionaire media moguls were harmed in the stampede to obey their new kakistocrat masters in advance, presumably because Zuck n’ Bezos had their dignity surgically removed and cryogenically frozen in anticipation of this turn of events.

Definitely looking forward to WaPo’s review of the boss’ $40 million bribe, a documentary about Melania that’s already earning Oscar buzz from Stephen Miller, whose own Creep Eye for the Incel Guy, a spray-on makeover show featuring the least fuckable men alive, is also in development at Amazon Prime.

Speaking of makeovers, looks like we’re getting a whole new Facebook. Out with DEI and fact-checking, in with hate speech and a board member who was literally captured on video hitting his wife. Jesus Christ, did Jimmy Carter take all the decency with him, or what?

Meanwhile, Elon Musk declared it is to be Good Vibes Only on Xwitter, now that he no longer needs to conjure a fictitious hellscape to justify the election of his pet rapist.

Heads up, though, a targeted, temporary positivity suspension may be necessary, should King Charles III fail to dissolve the British government and install (alleged) sex trafficker Andrew Tate as Prime Minister 4 Lyfe with sufficient haste. Once Elon sets his heart on a rapist, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, y’know.

Otherwise, kindly sprinkle your California wildfire disinformation posts with festive emojis, there’s no reason we can’t be pleasant as we tear our civilization to tatters.

Near as I can figure, the fires began when a BLM/Antifa riot reenactment got out of hand, and spread because under California law, only indigenous, left-handed lithosexuals are permitted within ten yards of a fire hydrant, though I suppose it’s theoretically possible the Right-wing media is being disingenuous on the subject.

Though thousands of homes have been destroyed, at least the tragedy has provided the Führer-elect an opportunity to deploy his very favorite playground nickname. “Gavin Newscum” is his Guernica. Every time he posts about “Gavin Newscum,” he prints the tweet out for Melania to hang on the fridge at Marm-a-Lago. (I learned that from the Amazon Prime documentary.)

After being held in contempt of court this week, Rudy Giuliani was held in contempt of court again, in case you thought the Borat cameo was the result of an uncharacteristic lapse in judgment. Courtroom sketches suggest Giuliani is making a play to join the rumored Tales from the Crypt relaunch, as an all-new host character…the Landscaper!

A forthcoming book claims Off-Brand Orbán damn near placed Fox Nooz bleating head Maria Bartiromo an undercooked hamberder away from the nuclear codes, a sobering reminder that this shit can always get even dumber.

Sorry, rubes, Elon says those promised spending cuts ain’t comin’, so any tax breaks’ll have to be reserved for the oligarch class. But don’t worry, cuz prices aren’t coming down either, and anyway, you won’t live long enough to notice, given the massive health care cuts they’ve got planned. For just eight dollars a month, you can post all you like about the GULF OF AMERICA, though.

The Georgia Republican Party formally excommunicated former Lt. Gov. Geoff Duncan for his heretical belief that the United States could probably find a better President than some insurrectionist rapist. The scriptures are crystal clear on this, Geoff: There shall come unto you a Rapist; abandon thou thy every law and moral, that he may never know consequence.

Mel Gibson says ivermectin cures cancer. It doesn’t.

Seems Donnie Dotard and Sam Alito had themselves a little chat, but definitely not about how much luxury travel financing it’d take to find a little more immunity in the ol’ SCOTUS sofa cushions ahead of a certain felon’s sentencing. No, that would be unethical. How dare you even suggest such a thing?

And sure, lots of folks’re disappointed his sentence for those 34 felony convictions amounted to five minutes of a judge telling him what a bad boy he’d been, and between the shenanigans of Aileen Cannon and the North Carolina Supreme Court, you may be wondering if you’re seeing the dying days of the rule of law, but personally, I dunno…I just dig watching the sloppy fop whine. About how unfaiiiiiiirly he’s been blah blah blah blah blah.

Because in those moments, his patheticness becomes inescapable. Well, those moments and thousands of others. “Poor meeeeeeee, they’re flying flags at half-staff for President Carter during my inauguraaaaaation it’s not faiiiiiiiiiiiiiir!”

And watching Senators and CEOs grovel before this turd…I mean, don’t get me wrong, I understand how fucked up and frightening all this is, but honestly, it still makes me giggle. Derisively. Because, well, you understand we can see y’all, right?

And sure, maybe I’ll sing a different tune in the gulag. But that won’t make any of your lives any less embarrassing, lil’ Trumpers.

For now, I’ll drink to having more self-respect than the rich n’ powerful. Hell, kick a few bucks into my tip jar, (now accepting Cash App, PayPal and Venmo) and I’ll drink excessively to having more self-respect than the rich n’ powerful. Following @john_luzar and/or joining the email list on showercapblog.com will have no effect on my drinking, but I’ll still be grateful. Stay safe out there, chum…