9/27/2016

Observations on a Brutal Beatdown at Last Night's Presidential Debate

Autoerotic asphyxiation is tricky. Done right, a man who ties a cord or a necktie around his throat and attaches it to a strong doorknob or closet rod can masturbate furiously to an ejaculation that'd blow the paint off the walls. But one wrong move, one moment's lack of attention to detail, and that man can find himself dangling like a discarded marionette, dead, strangled, probably covered in various bodily effluvia. Sure, sure, if you get there at the right time, you can save him. But you've gotta be willing to get your hands slickened with jizz to do it, and, last night, as Hillary Clinton watched Donald Trump choke out in the closet of his belligerence and grandiosity, she not only decided to let him die, but she got freaky and stuck her hand in her slacks to finger herself while Trump gagged on his own tongue. Trump's last thoughts were wild shock since he had been so successful at it so many times before...maybe Hillary rigged the...but then darkness.

At last night's first presidential debate, Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton did everything short of score an obvious knockout punch, which isn't possible against an opponent who seems so willfully oblivious to his own failings as a speaker, as a father, as a husband, as a business owner, as a human being. Indeed, one thing that came through clearly is that Clinton knows how to talk to children, and Republican nominee Donald Trump ran the gamut from toddler having a tantrum to teenager arguing why he should have the keys to the car when his breath smells like beer and weed. Every one of Clinton's looks was that of a parent or grandparent hearing the screaming kid, indulging him for a few minutes, and then demonstrating why she's the fuckin' grown-up, whether he realized it or not.

Oh, sure, sure, at the beginning, there were a couple of moments where Clinton seemed thrown off, especially on her views on the Trans-Pacific Partnership. But instead of taking advantage of that opening, Trump brayed like an ass on meth that he was the reason she might have changed her mind, offering, "[Y]ou heard what I said about it, and all of a sudden you were against it." If anything, she heard what Bernie Sanders said, not really giving a happy monkey fuck what Trump was saying in the early days of the primaries. And, yeah, for a few minutes there, it seemed like vaguely-rational Trump had shown up for the evening. But when the coke wore off, all that was left was a sad, puffy fool raging against a heaving ocean wave that didn't care that he even existed.

Clinton took him apart, piece by piece, attacking everything with a vigor that made it seem like she was just waiting for this moment to go at him. She destroyed him on his sexism (which he piled up on during the debate), she reamed him on his racism, and she ripped his business sense, wisely getting him to tangle himself in the minutiae of leverage debt and excuses for why he didn't pay small businesses for their services. And she wiped the floor with him on his tax returns. I cannot remember a more bizarre moment in a debate than Trump saying, proudly, about not paying any federal income taxes, "That makes me smart." No, motherfucker, that makes you a pathetic worm who gets all the benefits of the government without contributing when you brag about how much money you have. All the while, Clinton put out policy after policy, some of them remarkably detailed for the limited time of a debate. She was especially strong on "systemic racism," again getting her Bernie Sanders on.

Trump continued to be the candidate from Breitbart and Drudge. He brought up conspiracies and dark threats from the conservative fringes, saying them as if everyone in the United States genuinely cares what Sean Hannity says about anything when, really, most Americans would say, "Who?" and a significant portion of the rest would say, "Fuck that guy." So when Trump started bringing up Sidney Blumenthal, a good chunk of the country probably thought, "The fuck is he talking about?" And on the birther issue, shouting like a football fan who thinks that his team scored because of how loud he yelled at the TV, Trump again proclaimed, "I think I did a great job and a great service not only for the country, but even for the president, in getting him to produce his birth certificate." So he's proud that he got the victim of a racist smear to prove the smear wrong, as if ignoring the smear wasn't even an option. That was one of many times in the debate when you could see in Trump's beady, narrow eyes that an adviser's voice was screaming in his head to calm the fuck down and you could see him telling it to shut the fuck up and barreling ahead with the lies and insults. Trump at a couple of points even mocked the idea that facts exist that prove he's a goddamned liar.

Clinton made Trump look like a mental patient cutting off his own dick on issues of security and nuclear weapons (whether or not you agree with her on her approach). See if you can figure out what the fuck Trump is saying here: "Nuclear is the single greatest threat. Just to go down the list, we defend Japan, we defend Germany, we defend South Korea, we defend Saudi Arabia, we defend countries. They do not pay us. But they should be paying us, because we are providing tremendous service and we’re losing a fortune. That’s why we’re losing — we’re losing — we lose on everything. I say, who makes these — we lose on everything. All I said, that it’s very possible that if they don’t pay a fair share, because this isn’t 40 years ago where we could do what we’re doing. We can’t defend Japan, a behemoth, selling us cars by the million..." The look that Clinton gave at these moments was of a hero watching her enemy plunge off the side of a building. Let's not even get into the 400-lb. Chinese hackers Trump seems to fantasize about.

Clinton even got to act completely presidential, assuring our allies that the United States isn't going completely mad. "Words matter when you run for president," she said. "And they really matter when you are president. And I want to reassure our allies in Japan and South Korea and elsewhere that we have mutual defense treaties and we will honor them." It was the closest she came to the knockout because it was, in a few lines, a breathtaking contrast to the blustering, twitchy madman who had been yelling at the nation's allies like he was yelling at a chandelier maker whose bill he didn't want to pay.

This was a fucking disaster for Republicans, and I say that as someone who thought that Romney beat Obama in the first debate in 2012 (so maybe I'm a bit more honest on this shit). Trump did it himself, with a huge assist by Clinton, who, for much of the evening, like moderator Lester Holt, just stepped aside and let Trump wrap the mic cord around his neck and jack off until he gasped his last breath. And he didn't even orgasm before he expired.

Of course, Trump's idiot hordes thought he was incredible, and, of course, Trump blamed everyone and everything for his shit job, as he does all the time. In the classiest move, this morning, Trump continued to fat shame Alicia Machado, the former Miss Universe who he called "Miss Piggy" for gaining weight, as Clinton pointed out last night.

For a man running for president, Donald Trump sure seemed like a crappy reality TV show host. After last night, Trump voters should be vomiting into their "Make America Great Again" caps before throwing them out. But if you still believe he should be the leader of the country, you really are fucking deplorable.

9/26/2016

In Brief: Time to Re-Re-Re-Re-Re-Meet Hillary Clinton

Think about this for a moment: This is one of the only chances since the Democratic convention that most TV news network viewers will get a chance to hear from Hillary Clinton. Now, I know, I know, you're gonna fuckin' say, "But, wait, there was that time I saw her," and then ask yourself if you'd even need to think for a goddamned second about the last time you saw Donald Trump mouth-shitting all over your nice big flat screen.

Just this month, we saw all three major cable news networks show a Trump town hall while putting a Clinton rally in a tiny box in the corner, which is totally not sexist at all. Back in June, the networks cut away from Trump to go to Clinton, which was so unexpected that it became a huge fuckin' deal. Last week, though, they switched from Clinton giving a speech on disability rights just after five minutes to, in what seemed like a collective sigh of relief, Trump saying the usual hateful stream of dumbconsciousness he usually spouts like a fountain of baby babble.

Otherwise, the only Clinton stories we get over the noise of Trump are the usual parade of whatever scandal-mongering can be squeezed out of the empty toothpaste tube of the emails and the Clinton Foundation, some meaningless fuckin' report on her health, maybe a look at who Bill Clinton put his penis in, and, of course, whether her body language, mouth position, or clothes indicate whether she's ready to be president. All covered in a secret sauce about her secrecy, topped with a Benghazi pickle.

So tonight, for 90 minutes, not only does Donald Trump have to directly confront the person he's been talking shit about for the last couple of years, but the nation gets to see Clinton as a human being and as a candidate who is actually, really running for president. Potentially.

Of course, the spin will be that, as long as Trump doesn't try to stick his stubby dick in her mouth, he wins. And if she says something cutting about him, she's a cruel harpy. And, god, why is she so boring by being smart?

But maybe, for a little while, the country can meet Hillary Clinton again. It's a fucking shame that we're so pathetically enamored of the smell of Trump's farts that this is where we are in this stupid election. Too many people don't know Clinton's positions on most things, and a few of them might actually give a shit about such things.

Don't worry, though, CNNMSNBCFox, you can go back to ignoring her for a couple of weeks after this.

(Note: I'll be live-tweeting this thing, and I'll be on Rabble, snarking live during the debate with the lovable Jeff Kreisler.)

9/23/2016

If I Could Talk to Ted Cruz Right Now, Here Are a Few Things I'd Tell Him

Upon hearing that Ted Cruz endorsed Donald Trump for president, a few thoughts went through my head. They were things I'd say directly to the sad senator, if I had the chance to say them to him.

1. Man, I hope that golden plate of shit you're eating sure tastes good.

2. Did Trump at least give you a reacharound while he was fucking you in the ass? What am I saying? Of course, he didn't give you a reacharound.

3. So I assume that your father did work with Lee Harvey Oswald.

4. And that you've decided that Heidi is kind of ugly.

5. What breed of servile puppy dog are you now?

6. They make spines cheap these days. They disappear just a little while after you start using them.

7. It's good to know that terrible people continue to be terrible, even when they've had a chance at redemption.

8. Holy crap, they must be laughing at you in Trump Tower tonight. Like, really deep, gasping guffaws.

9. I just want to know: did you give away a night with Heidi, too?

10. Mostly, though, the turds are sitting there on the shiny plate, just waiting to be devoured by a mouth too eager for approval.

11. Honestly, this act of pure cowardice couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

9/22/2016

Five Questions for Donald Trump Supporters That They Will Never Answer Because They're Terrible Human Beings

1. If Hillary Clinton refused to release her taxes because they are "under audit," would you be cool with that?

2. If the IRS said that taxpayers are free to release their tax returns while they are being audited and, besides, it's only the last few years that are being audited, yet Hillary Clinton still refused to release even those not under audit, would you be cool with that?

3. If Hillary Clinton had promised to release her taxes if she ran for president, but she won't, would you be cool with that?

4. If Hillary Clinton had promised to release her taxes if Barack Obama had released his long-form birth certificate, which he did, and she still won't, would you be cool with that?

5. If Chelsea Clinton said that her mother shouldn't release her taxes because they'd be a distraction because "We’ve seen how viral that craziness goes. We want to keep on point," would you be cool with that?

Now, you can be lying sacks of shit, as you usually are, Trump supporters, and say, "Well, it would be fine by me if Hillary Clinton didn't release them." But we know the truth: You'd lose your tiny fucking minds. You wouldn't let a second pass when you didn't scream about how she's hiding something and you'd just make shit up about her, about how she must be hiding payments to her lesbian coven of manicide or how they're on the ISIS payroll. You'd go berzerker about it, and every Fox "news" commenturbator would be ejaculating all over the joint about how unprecedented it is. Alex Jones would literally explode. The Nazi frogs on Twitter would vomit up their guts.

Most likely, though, you'd just answer, "Erg, blarg, 30,000 emails, Crooked Hillary," as if the only way the synapses in that tiny brain can fire is if you repeat a bullshit talking point. Except no one's asking for Trump's emails, so the analogy is another waste of time.

No one in the media should give Trump another fucking second until he gives up the tax forms: "Oh, you want us to cover another goddamned speech? Fuck you until we see how much of a con artist you are." But that's as much a fantasy as Donald Trump, philanthropist billionaire.

Now we can move on to how you'd feel if Hillary Clinton used her foundation's money to make donations in her name. And then how you'd feel if Hillary Clinton was making millions of dollars off campaigning for president. On and on into the void where your cold Trumpian hearts sit dead.

Very Late Post Today

Man, where did this day go?

Charlotte is a goddamned mess. Syria is fucked up. Twitter still fucking with me.

Back later (perhaps) with more unfuckable rudeness.

9/21/2016

Tulsa Is Very Good at Killing Black People



That's Angelo Estes, Jr. holding a sign that reads, "Don't shoot." His hands are up, as you can see. What you can't see is that the 8 year-old is sitting on his father's shoulders as his family protests the murder by police of another unarmed black man in Tulsa, Oklahoma. 

You might remember Tulsa as the city where, just last year, a black man, Eric Harris, was shot and killed by a police officer. When Harris said he couldn't breathe, instead of getting help, a cop said, "Fuck your breath." An extraordinary thing happened then: the cop who murdered Harris was sent to prison for manslaughter. 

You might remember Tulsa as the city where, in 1921, the white residents rioted and burned down Greenwood, the neighborhood where black Tulsans lived and had businesses. The cause was that a black man had touched a white woman and the whites weren't allowed to lynch the black man. 300 people were killed. An extraordinary thing happened then: no one was charged for rioting. No one went to jail for it. 

Tulsa, it seems, is very, very good at murdering black people.

Look, as always, most of us looking in from the outside are not cops. But let's say for the sake of argument that victim Terence Crutcher was doing everything that police officer Betty Shelby said he was doing. Let's say that he was standing in the middle of the road, acting oddly. Let's say he didn't listen to Shelby's commands, even as he stood with his hands up. Let's say he reached into the driver's side window (although Crutcher's family's attorney says blood on the window shows it was closed). Let's even say he was on PCP. 

So while, yeah, most of us will never face this situation, most of us haven't gone through training that is supposed to prepare us for it. See, this is where failures in training hit head-on into reality. Because even with all those circumstances, at no time was the Crutcher a threat to anyone other than Shelby, who was holding a gun on him. And even then he never did anything overtly threatening, by her own admission. She was scared, by her own admission. What she should have done is backed off and waited for back-up, which was arriving. What she should have done is not panicked, like so many other cops before her did in similar circumstances. But Shelby was supposedly a "drug recognition expert." So she should have known that reasoning with someone on PCP was not going to go smoothly. (Although the PCP allegation is unproven at this point.)

That's the most frustrating part of so many incidents of cops killing unarmed African Americans. The person simply wasn't a threat other than to the cops who were escalating the whole encounter into something deadly. It's the bloodstained version of cops getting a suspect to resist arrest just so they can trump up a charge. What happens if you don't point your gun at the obviously unarmed person who poses no danger? 

Young Angelo up there is learning an important lesson: that it continues to be a nation where putting your hands up doesn't guarantee that you won't be shot.  Hell, at this point, being a child carried by his father doesn't guarantee it.

9/20/2016

Political Correctness, Bull Murder, and Trump (Yes, There Is a Through-Line Here)

In Tordesillas, Spain, the provincial government ended a tradition that went back to medieval times. The real medieval times, not the fake thing with the turkey legs and people with mouths full of teeth jousting indoors. It was part of a festival where a full-grown bull would be chased by townspeople into a field where, with cheering crowds watching, horse riders would use spears to kill the bull. The slaughter would take a while, much to the delight of the onlookers. But this year, for the first time, the bull was chased and cornered but not slowly stabbed to death.

According to NPR, the locals were enraged by the government's action. Pro-bull-killing protesters marched through the streets, declaring that "Tordesillas isn't giving in." The mayor was livid, saying that the ban had taken away the townspeople's identity, that it "ripped out our spine" and "left us orphaned." The pro-stabbers said animal rights activists had wrecked their way of life. "This isn't about defending the life of one brave bull. It's about defending rural traditions," said a local woman, "It's the central part of our festival. It's our happiness. If you take that away, what do we have left?"

It is, they said, "political correctness" run amok.

Think about that. It's come to this: if you say that a town shouldn't torture an animal to death for your pleasure, you're just trying to destroy traditions and impose your repressive ideology on people who don't want to change. And if you're thinking, "Well, that's, for lack of a better word, bullshit. It's 2016. We only torture animals in large industrial buildings away from prying eyes. We're not barbarians," well, you're just a politically correct twat and a killjoy.

I bring this up because that phrase, "political correctness," is tossed around by the Trump campaign like it's a magic spell that, once recited, will allow you to say whatever assholish thing you want to say.

In just the last couple of days, we've heard it over and over.  Bugfuck mad Trump surrogate Lt. Gen. Michael Flynn asserted, talking about the bombings in New York and New Jersey, "Political correctness kills. It will cause death, and we can’t have that." Exactly how political correctness does this is a bit fuzzy because Trump lies about the limitations on the police.

But Trump does want the police to profile people and treat them accordingly. Of course, Trump tells us, the problem is "We're trying to be so politically correct in our country, and this is only going to get worse." Butt-boy Mike Pence agreed, as a butt-boy will do, saying, "I can tell you that this season of political correctness, we both believe, is interrupting the ability of law enforcement officers to really identify people."

In other words, "political correctness" is now shorthand for the rule of law, for civil rights, for the guarantees of fair treatment in the fucking Constitution. You can throw that into the catch-all bucket for the phrase, along with not being able to say "nigger" or "fag" with abandon, treating immigrants like human beings, and sexing up the lady employees being a no-no.

Fucking hell, times change. Civilizations advance. What you once thought was fine is now fucked up. That's the way it goes. The march of progress, as we once liked to call it. You don't fucking spear the bull anymore because we know that's fucked up. And if you don't think it's fucked up, you're fucked up. And we get to say that because we're the ones who want the world to move forward. You're the ones who want to hold it back or send it back to a mythical time of greatness.

You just came up with a fancy way to make being a dick sound like a you're taking a mighty stand when, really, you're just a dick. It's so convenient and so useful.

At this point, Trump could fuck the corpse of that drowned Syrian toddler at a rally, and, when people responded with revulsion and anger, his idiot hordes would say that it's just political correctness, not that baby corpse fucking is, in and of itself, wrong.

9/19/2016

Donald Trump Was Never as Hard as He Was This Last Two Days

As soon as he heard about the bomb going off in the Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan on Saturday night, Republican presidential candidate and stack of pumpkins in a suit Donald Trump got an erection. He could feel his dick stand at attention as he prepared to go out to speak to a crowd in Colorado Springs, Colorado (motto: "Where Christianity goes to wallow in a hypocritical soup"). He desperately wanted to jack off right then and there, but he knew he had to wait. He confirmed this with campaign manager Kellyanne Conway when he went up to her and said, "Check out my crotch." Conway couldn't see anything. "No, really, you can't see that?" Trump asked.

"What are you talking about?" Conway said.

"My dick. Jesus, I've got such a hard-on it's bursting through my pants," Trump explained, gripping at the sagging cloth below his stomach.

Conway realized that she had to make sure Trump didn't lose energy for the speech. "Oh," she said. "Oh, yes, I see it now. It's huge. Hugest penis I've ever seen."

"Yeah, you know it," Trump smirked. "I should jack it. You wanna watch me jack it? Melania won't mind. She knows that's not cheating."

Conway was familiar with the terrain by now. "You know what? Why don't you save it? You might have a better orgasm if you wait and see what happens."

Trump thought for a moment, touching himself a little, and then nodded, saying, "Yeah, yeah. That's good. I'll wait. You're the best, Ann" before heading back into his dressing room to punch Chris Christie's belly for a bit to warm up for his speech.

"I'm not Ann Coul--" Conway tried to say before Trump disappeared.

And so it went the for the next day and a half, with Trump checking with Conway, after putting out statements and giving interviews, Conway telling Trump to hold it, hoping that he'd forget about it or just jack off already. But, no, she had put an idea in his head and he wasn't gonna let it go.

Finally, after appearing on Fox and Friends this morning, where he took a victory lap for having "called it" on the bombing being linked in some way to someone or something Muslim or terrorism or whatever, Trump dialed up Conway and said, "I swear to God, I'm gonna blow a load through my pants if I can't jack off. I must be up to a full three inches which, many people tell me, is as big as a dick can get before it just gets too painful. And believe me, believe me, Ann, I am gonna hurt someone with this thing. This bombing is the best thing to happen to my cock since 9/11 made me a mint."

Not being able to take it anymore, hoping that she might get paid this week, Conway said, "You know what, Donald? It's time. Today in Florida, go for it."

"Your lips to God's ear," Trump said, his voice practically lilting in anticipation.

So, today, in Estero, Florida, Trump started in on Hillary Clinton's reaction to the bombings in New York and New Jersey, mocking her for mocking him. Then he moved on to the just-captured Ahmad Rahami, injured in a shootout with police. Pulling out his prick, he started yanking it, slamming it against the podium, telling the crowd, sneeringly, "But the bad part now. We will give him amazing hospitalization. He will be taken care of by some of the best doctors in the world. He will be given a fully modern and updated hospital room. And he'll probably even have room service, knowing the way our country is," as if only fancy hospitals delivered meals to patients. The crowd roared, urging him to jack it harder.

Masturbating so forcefully, so frantically that some in the audience thought he might hurt himself, Trump went on to attack the justice system of the United States: "He will be represented by an outstanding lawyer. His case will go through the various court systems for years, and, in the end, people will forget and his punishment will not be what it once would have been. What a sad situation."

At last, as his idiot hordes yelled, "Hang him," and he demanded that Rahami be treated as an enemy combatant and that Clinton was just too weak to save the nation from his imagined horrors and the idiot hordes chanted, "Lock her up!" Donald Trump came with a roaring moan and a small blow out from his balls that dangled from the tip of his dick for a moment before dropping to floor in front of him. The idiot hordes surged forward, fighting each other to get their tongues on a bit of his divine seed.

Later, sweaty, satisfied, Trump walked up to Conway on the jet and said, "You were right...Kellyanne!" He winked, and Conway knew all was right with the world. "Wish there could be a bombing every week until the election, maybe with some deaths next time," Trump called back to her. "I don't know if my dick could take it, but it's be fun to find out."

Late Post Today

I'm coming up with a list of terrible events I've "nailed."

Back later with more self-aggrandizing rudeness.