This is Still Happening, Isn't It

HFS*

March 22, 2019

It is possible I have mentioned this before, but I fear it bears repeating.  Donald Chrump is a catastrophucking disaster on two legs.  His very, very large uh-brain is clearly disintegrating right in front of our eyes.  However very, very large it might be, it was never all that functional to begin with.  His always-tenuous grip on reality – never really a grip, so much as a hanging-by-the-fingernails kind of thing – has now struck Vaseline.  Add the Mueller probe and all the other investigations to the long-festering syphilis, and you have very, very serious uh-brain damage people.

This sorry excuse for a salamander is too busy standing up for racist Fux News hosts, whining about SNL reruns and the possible fact that all of his fake Twitter followers are being removed from his list.  He remains obsessed with John McCain, who dared oppose Chrump’s foolish fascism.  Chrump still wants Hillary Clinton locked up.  His newest obsession is Kellyanne Conjob’s husband, who has been a frequent, brutal and accurate critic of the Orange Gas Cloud.  Mr. Kellyanne Conway – as Chrump likes to call him – has made comments like, “Your stupidity knows no bounds” and “The administration is like a shitshow in a dumpster fire.”

And, more recently…

 

Conway then added…

Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders’
definitions of two conditions — narcissistic personality disorder
and antisocial personality disorder.




This was the last straw for Chrump.  Finally, unable to keep his thumbs shut, dug down into the rotting recesses of his crippled cranium and pulled out his wittiest repartee, his best words if you will, to shut Conway up for good.

Parscale's tweet was all lies, Chrump was obviously looking in the mirror

 

Oddly, it did not have the desired effect, so Chrump had to double dumb down:

Oddly, that did not end it…

Jimmy Kimmel spells it out

He wants the Justice Department to go after satirists because they are mean to him and no one else. In what remains of Chrump’s fevered uh-brain, nobody ever made fun of any politicians until Chrump came along.  One can’t help but feel sorry for poor baby Donald…I’m sorry, I should have said one can help but feel sorry for poor baby Donald. 

No Parking

Chrump needs to be in a nice soft room, or put out to pasture, or sent to a farm upstate somewhere.  Like perhaps the lovely, deteriorated, Donald J. Trump State Park in Mahopac, New York. 

This is a real sign, but the park is as fake as the man whose name it bears

I shit you not, this is a real thing.  In fact, I drove past it myself five years ago, long before the fear of a Chrump candidacy, let alone presidency, had wrapped its tiny orange hands around my soul, and well before the degree of loathing at the sight or sound of Chrump that I have since found it unavoidable to develop.  At least he was thwarted from building one of his shithole golf courses on the land. 

Chrump’s “park” – a metaphor for Chrump’s America

Like Chrump himself, the park is nothing more than a derelict, a façade, with no redeeming social value – since it is closed.  Unlike Chrump, the land remains mostly in its natural state, doing the Lord’s work by simply being.  Chrump of course, is working to put a stop to all that.

I. Mangrey reporting. 

*Holy. Fucking. Shit.  Trying to keep it clean.