So it’s official. The forty-fifth President of the United States is Donald J. …well, I just can’t bring myself to say it. For the next four years – or until his Nixonian deposition – I will steadfastly refer to the nominal leader of the free world as President PeePee Head. Vladimir Putin, whose deft puppeteering skills make Karl Rove look like Serge Kovaleski, has predictably disavowed any video evidence of the Donald lapping up the acrid micturition of Russian hookers: “I find it hard to imagine he ran to a hotel to meet our girls of ‘low social responsibility’… though they are, of course, also the best in the world.”
Notwithstanding that the FBI, CIA, National Security Agency and the Treasury Department’s financial crimes unit continue to sift through evidence of links between Mr. PeePee’s operatives and the Russian security apparatus, Director Comey refuses to lend any credence to the investigation. He unabashedly told the Senate intelligence committee, “I would never comment on investigations – whether we have one or not – in an open forum like this, so I really can’t answer one way or another,” to which Sen. Angus King, (I-ME) chortled, “The irony of your making that statement here – I cannot avoid.”
Look, that Comey was in on the whole thing is patently obvious. Maybe the Reds have the goods on his coprophagia (think: Dirty Sanchez), or pesky gambling habit, but some conclusions are simply unavoidable. To wit: When Brazilian Supreme Court Justice Teori Zavascki, who was orchestrating a massive corruption investigation that fingered, among many others, sitting president Michael Temer, perished last week in a small plane crash, we instantly recognized the tragedy as anything but accidental.
Though it achieved virtually nothing, the women’s march on Washington was anything if not deliberate. In fact the 500,000 participants purposefully banned the anti-choice Texas group, New Wave Feminists. Ironically, Fox News and the alt-right movement — who prefer the label “pro-life” — became indignant and demanded the Intersectional Feminist Movement be wholesale gynically inclusive. In other words, the very people who anointed Mr. PeePee Head as the anti-PC torchbearer, have become just that. Whiney bitches.
Relying upon an alternate set of facts, The New York Times wrote an exposé about the 53% of white women that cast their ballot for Trump. There was no journalistic reason to include black women because compared to the last two elections, millions of African Americans went uncounted. This is not, as liberals would lament, because of recently enacted voter suppression laws, but rather due to the mysterious appearance of hundreds of thousands of cases of malt liquor found on the doorsteps of the most abundantly melasmic members of our polity.
During the height of the campaign, former Secretary of State Madeline Albright was swinged for asserting “there’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women.” But since I’m unwilling to wait that long for retribution, I hope that before 2017 runs its course, the 53% — and their daughters — become inseminated by gangs of Mexican rapists hired to construct a wall on our southern border and to collect a litany of ill conceived import taxes. With the overturn of Roe v Wade, the sight of brown babies suckling their Caucasian mothers at the mall would impel Steve Bannon and his Nazi faithful to exterminate these women as race traitors. But, hey, that’s just me.