I just searched my 2025 training log for “rain” and came up empty. Just like our rain gauge.
Until this morning.
As we began puttering around the Compound, getting our Sunday started, Herself said she thought she heard sprinkles tippy-tapping the skylights. But I said naw, warn’t nothin’ in the forecast.
But suddenly there it was, on the walkway. Not much, but it’s all good, amirite?
As news goes it certainly beats a hummer I saw in The New York Times this morning about some bloated sack of shit whose claim to fame — beyond boinking Madge Toilet Grout, that is — was asking President Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine why he wasn’t wearing a suit to his ambush by — pardon, “meeting with” — that other, better-known, bloated sack of shit, who also gets too much press.
I got asked a similar question once, by a supervisor, during a performance review. It was majorly annoying, as I had been busting my hump for that two-bit cage-liner, which couldn’t keep its city and copy desks staffed, and they should’ve been delighted that I showed up for work at all, much less wearing a button-down shirt and tie.
Shit, they were lucky I didn’t show up butt-nekkid, knee-walking, commode-hugging drunk. But I was, after all, a professional. I was always fully clothed.
I fled that rag as soon as I could find another job. Any old asshole can wear a tie, and plenty of them do. Especially on TV.
The Turtle has decided against running for re-election, saying he plans to spend more time with his money … er, family.
Which is where the bulk of his wealth is said to come from.
According to 2022 financial-disclosure reports, Mitch McConnell has “a net worth between $19 million and $68 million.” Much of this moola derives from his marriage to Elaine Chao, daughter of shipping magnate James Chao. The McConnells received an inheritance valued between $5 million and $25 million in 2007 when her mother died, according to The Washington Post via the Cincinnati Enquirer.
I’m guessing the McConnells won’t be slouching around the mailbox waiting on the Social Security check that will not be forthcoming once the DOGEbags have finished tidying up that messy ol’ feddle gummint he’s finally leaving behind. Not even FEMA will be able to make that dead dog hunt, if only because FEMA will no longer exist.
The Turtle’s venality and the Democrats’ timidity helped bring us to the precipice upon which we teeter. He will not be missed, not even by the players who took comfort in knowing that it was always his turn in the barrel.
Well, the bad news is that the DOGEbags are on the verge of learning — well, basically, everything about U.S. individuals and corporations — with the goal of making Elon Musk and his billionaire buccaneers even richer than they already are.
The good news is that asteroid 2024 YR4 may blow us all to smithereens, rich and poor alike, when it arrives around Christmas 2032.
Might I suggest that Skippy the Dipshit pull his snout out of our butts for a moment to commandeer Thor’s hammer from Marvel Studios, zip up to 2024 YR4 in an armored Cybertruck Starship, and swat the pesky rock into the heart of the Klingon Empire?
Of course, Cap’n Skippy might not pack quite a wallop once he’s off-planet, where money is just so many pictures of dead presidents, most of whom were not drooling, raving embarrassments. But at least it would keep his sticky little fingers out of our pockets for a while.