Month: February 2020



I, like most of us, am sleeping better now that Mike Pence has been put in charge of stamping out the coronavirus. My confidence was further bolstered when Trump muzzled all doctors from speaking freely, ruling that valuable information be cleared with Pence, a man who once said, “Smoking never killed anyone.”

To give Americans hope, Pence then stated that Donald Trump is pulling out all the stops to control the virus, including something that helped him solve many problems when he was a child: his Winky Dink kit.

Pence wanted us to know Trump’s total indifference to people’s health was not the Commander in Chief’s fault because Trump, being a sociopath and wannabe psychopath, is not capable of caring about anyone but himself.

Quick to inform us that there was nothing to worry about, world-renown epidemiologist Laurence Kudlow in a rare non-inebriated press conference, declared that the virus was contained and pretty much air-tight. The “air-tight” remark made no sense in this context, but it is possible he was switching the topic to how peanuts are packaged.

White House Chief of Staff, Mick Mulvaney, also trying to reassure us, suggested that we could solve the problem by turning off our TVs. He said doing so would allow people to bury their heads in the sand just like the entire Trump administration is doing. Kellyanne Conway is in charge of turning off all White House TVs. Her task will commence as soon as she finishes reading the instruction manual on pulling plugs out of the wall.

We’ve learned that Trump was given a report on the virus. Since he has the attention span of a monkey, the report, shortened by taking out all the verbs, was still getting his lips tired. He dumped it on Pence, who wasn’t happy about being forced to read something other than his Bible. But our dedicated VP did read the entire report. After assimilating all the information on the virus he issued the following statement: “Yikes!”

I know I feel better.




In his ongoing effort to stock the White House with his favorite flunky/butt kissers and kisserettes, Donald Trump is bringing Hope Hicks back to what was once America’s house but is now America’s swamp.

She will function as an aide to Senior Presidential Advisor Jared Kushner. She’s held Kushner in high regard ever since he brought peace to the Middle East.

Pretending to be pleased with his new assistant, Jared Kushner has told people that nobody is more devoted to implementing Trump’s agenda than her and Satan.

Hicks is eminently qualified to work in Trump’s White House due to her long legs and obedience to authority, as well as her never having had an original thought.

When they first met, Trump knew immediately that he had a loyal ally when she promised to never menstruate within fifty feet of him.

Hicks had worked at The White House as its Communications Director but left under a cloud when it was revealed that she was dating wife-beater Rob Porter. She claimed she didn’t know about Porter’s past and asserted that she was firmly against wife-beating in some cases.

When she was about to make her exit, a warm and emotional Donald Trump took her in her arms and whispered in her ear, “Sure, we didn’t put as many kids in cages as we could have, but we’ll always have McDonald’s.”

After leaving, she went to work at Fox (surprise surprise). The network’s executives were so impressed with her talents she was quickly promoted Vice President in Charge of Thongs.

Hicks won’t, however, be returning to the communications department, but she will be in charge of blaming the Coronavirus on Barack Obama.

Trump, grasping the severity of the virus, will also task Hicks with fighting it by removing all Corona beers from the White House.

He will make an announcement about her return, just as soon as he finishes working on pardons for as many criminals as possible









It’s very flattering that so many of you read and seem to like this blog It’s a big reason I continue to do it. But over these past three-plus years, I’ve become more motivated by the fact that it is now, for me, a survival mechanism to help endure the horror that is Donald Trump. I didn’t believe in monsters when I was a child, but I do now.

Like many of us, maybe all of us, he’s gotten into my head, depressed and scared me. What I see on anti-Trump sites and what I hear from a lot of people is a deep seated pessimism that Trump will win again. I’m acutely aware of that frightening possibility, but at this moment, facts such as independents and women currently tilting heavily against him don’t support the depth of that pessimism.

As we slog daily through this Dickensian nightmare, I believe there are positive signs that we might see the sun again in the not too distant future. Florida went for Trump by less than 1% point in 2016. He’s promising to cut Social Security and Medicare benefits, which should be a political third rail in that state.  Other states as well.

There are other upbeat signs, but none are bigger than the results of the 2018 Congressional elections. It was reported that forty-one seats were actually in play. Forty of them went blue. You can dispute polls, but not that. And while Trump’s name was not on the ballot, I believe it was a big American F.U. to that creature living in the Amityville White House. Those elections, more than anything else, really do give me hope for November.

I write this hoping that everyone can find something positive to hang on to that would raise their spirits.

One more personal note: As regards our primaries, I remain committed to the same person I’ve backed all along. That person’s name is, “The one with the best chance of getting Trump out of our lives.”