It's an unfact!

Kellyanne Conway's grade school primer revealed.

Don't think too much about the use of the word "golden" in the title.

On second thought, maybe you should.

We're not into Barbie

And we can only hope living with a guilty conscience is even harder.

Chili con carnage

So what exactly is "American carnage"? I mean, other than an alt-right, ultra-conservative dreamscape for the coming four years?

As best I can figure, it's the filling for the "best taco bowls" served up at Trump Tower Grill.

Happy Veinte de Enero! I love Twitter-Manics!

American carnage

But for too many of our citizens, a different reality exists: 

Mothers and children trapped in poverty in our inner cities; rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones across the landscape of our nation; an education system flush with cash, but which leaves our young and beautiful students deprived of knowledge; and the crime and gangs and drugs that have stolen too many lives and robbed our country of so much unrealized potential.

This American carnage stops right here and stops right now.

--The Inaugural address of Donald J. Trump, the 45th President of the United States of America

Oh, American carnage. That ol' thing.

Been there, done that, got the blood-spattered t-shirt.

Star-Spangled Girl, or, Kellyanne's Kustom Kostume

Gurrrrrrl, please. 

This is what happens when you alienate all your gay male friends. They let you leave the house looking like a scarecrow in Revolutionary War drag. Or as a friend put it, "looking like a cashier at Burger Chef during the Bicentennial."

Thoughts and prayers, Kellyanne, thoughts and prayers.

Simply ravaging

"We must protect our borders from the ravages of other countries."

Bitch, please. You can't protect yourself from the ravages of time, spray tan, and combovers. How the hell you gonna protect our borders?

The gift that keeps on giving

"Eet ees peanut breetle. Ees from Cracker Barrel on New Dzhersey Ternpike. Vee stop before eenter Delaverr. Donal haf to pee . . . ."

"Hmm. Well. So it is. Now isn't that nice?"

In the bag

What exactly is going on here?

Looking at this photo taken during yesterday's Inauguration ceremony for the Pissy Mango, my best guess is that former President George W. Bush is trying to suffocate himself using a drycleaning bag that just blew in from the National Mall.

I don't blame him. Who among us hasn't contemplated that in the last 24 hours?

Miss ya, Dubya. Sincerely. And no, I never thought I'd hear myself say that either.

But Dick Cheney, oh so quiet these last few months, you can still go straight to hell.

* * *

Oh my gods, I spoke too soon! Look out Mr. Former President Bush! The Evil Cheney's right behind you!

Obama out

Give us this day

You're in? I'm not

"Sensor operated washroom fixtures" by Steve Mann.
Copyright 2004. License: CC BY-SA 3.0 Unported.

From today's news:

Don's What?--Portable Toilet Names Covered for Trump's Inauguration

Apparently, there is a brand of portable toilet called Don's Johns, which are being used at the upcoming Presidential Inauguration, aka The End of American Civilization As We Know It.

Obviously the company can't use its real product name because that would be demeaning to the President-Elect and the exalted office he is about to hold.

When contacted for comment, Donald Trump stated that he was surprised that so many porta-potties would be needed for the the Inaugural events on the National Mall. "What's the bigly deal? When I'm in the mood for a pee, I always just hire Russian prostitutes to do it for me," he noted.

I think I have to agree with the Golden Don on this one--what indeed is the bigly deal? It's not like they're called Trump's Dumps after all. Now *that* would be demeaning.

We're jammin'

"Country Bear Jamboree" by Whitenep - Own work, Public Domain

Just announced: Disney's Country Bear Jamboree agrees to perform at the Trump Inauguration.

Best responses to this news from Facebook friends:

"I thought the bear had more integrity than that" - my sister.

"And this is how bears get a bad reputation" - my bearish friend SK.

Worst kept secret

Who wants to be a vermillionaire?

I don't. Worst. Gameshow. Ever.

But I think I've figured something out. Burnt Umber Berlusconi's approach to politicking is akin to the marketing campaign for Rhonda Byrnes's The Secret.

"I know The Secret! And I'll tell it to you--in my book, available for just $39.99. Call now! Operators are standing by!"

Except that instead of selling anything, Creamsicle Mussolini keeps saying, "I know A Secret! Keep tuning in and I'll tell you . . . on Tuesday! Or maybe Wednesday! Not sure yet!"

True enough, we're not being asked to buy any specific product, but I'm sure we'll all end up paying one way or another.

Thanks to all those who voted for him, to those who felt it necessary to issue a protest vote, and to those who didn't vote at all. I'll wave at you from the northern side of Lake Ontario--although I'm not sure that will put out or just fan the flames of Conflagration, America's Favorite Bored Game.™

Oh well. You were great while you lasted, land of the free, home of the brave.