FFS! Friday!: Week Five

This really is the stupidest timeline.

(No reading today, do forgive.)

Hello, Friend,

We’ve made it through the first 100 days, mostly scathed and hanging on by a hope-thread. Is that a thing? If not, it is now. Grab your hope-threads and hang on, people! We have a republic to save! If we don’t do it, no one else will. With that in mind, it’s time to slip our feet into our flippers and flop into the fetid fray with another foray into the foul funk of the feculent freak show.

It seems Putie and the Blowhard are having some communication issues. Our wannabe dick-tator, the strong man with a big plan, who promised to end the Ukraine war in one day, is finding out that ending a war by abandoning your allies isn’t as easy as he thought it would be. Is it possible that Mother Russia isn’t our BFF after all? Plot twist! Big Daddy P is ignoring Liddle D’s pleas of, “Vladimir, STOP!”

Sounds like Donny needs a safe word.

Fraud Fighters, 1949 RKO-Pathé for the FDA PUBLIC DOMAIN WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

The DOGE boys continue to wreak havoc behind the scenes. They’ve un-alived about 4 million people who are struggling to re-alive themselves being that they are most definitely still breathing. Instead of, I don’t know, listening to the many, many, many experts who explained how COBOL works, ME-lon and his minions marked all of the (not actually over) 120-year old people in the system as dead. According to Rennie Glasgow of the SSA: “When they mark someone dead on the Social Security record, it stops their life. It stops their car payments, it stops their credit, it stops their ability to do anything. Their identification gets flagged.” One flick of a button and it all falls to shit. Add to the mix the mass firings, and the wait times continue to increase.

I found the fraud and inefficiency, friend. It’s DOGE.

RFK Jr. presented his uncle President JFK with a salamander, "Shadrach" in the White House Oval Office, Washington, D.C. on 11 March 1961 PUBLIC DOMAIN WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

Leatherface Jr., the creepiest Kennedy, has once again shown his true colors. After announcing his devious plan for an unauthorized by the participants and possibly illegal autism database, he’s followed up by defunding autism research. Seriously. Why bother with science when you can make something up and then manufacture the evidence? If you’ve not had a peek at the Orwellian COVID.gov makeover, I’d suggest you gird your loins before you gaze at this garbage pit of a disinformation site. The Ministry of Truth is a drama queen. If Agolf and his Dr. Mengele believe it, it’s a fact, Jack. An alternative fact, which is much better than an actual fact, as everyone knows.

This really is the stupidest timeline.

Speaking of Drama Queens, the incomparably incompetent liar and letch, Peter Peter Secret Leaker just spent our tax dollars installing a make-up studio in the Pentagon. This is on top of the installation of his ‘dirty internet line’ which is a whole other tawdry tale. What is it with these drag queen hating ‘alpha males’ and their make-up obsession? Between Powder Puff Pete, King QT, and Guy Liner, they’re bringing more drama and concealer than an episode of Ru Paul’s Drag Race. Look, I don’t give a fart in a windstorm if they wear make-up, but their homophobia, hypocrisy, and lack of ability to blend is total cringe.

I’ve had to consciously uncouple from a lot of former favorites since the Tangerine Turdburgler came back on the scene. Target was the toughest break-up so far. FFS, Target. They didn’t just kiss the ring, they kicked their customer base in the gut with a ‘Yee Haw!” and a pair of knock-off Harley Davidson boots. First they abandoned the LGBTQ+ community during Pride Month last year, which was some serious bullshit. Then came the most recent betrayal, shuttering their DEI and REACH programs to ditch the black community and kiss the vulgarian’s ring. Sales are plummeting and it couldn’t happen to a crappier corporation.

FAFO, Tarjay. You’re dead to me.

Hello, Costco! Let’s do this!

In lieu of our usual tasty tidbit of science, I thought you might like to meet my friend Cowbert Jr. He seems to be doing pretty well, all things considered. Today he enjoyed a carrot while I sang him an impromptu song about being a Cowbert. He gave me several cow kisses and walked along the fence with me on my way back up the driveway.

I told him to stay away from the asshole horses and I’d be back to visit him tomorrow.

I offer you the same advice, but I’ll be back to visit with you on Monday. Until then, illegitimati non carborundum (don’t let the bastards grind you down.)

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