The straight poop

The Shit Show! Coming to a … well, it’s already here. Has been since Jan. 20.

Is there a wall left unbeshitted in the Benighted States? If he flings it, it might stick?

“Department of Defense” to be rebranded as “War Department?” OK, one syllable instead of two, so I suppose he might be able to say it without drooling all over his tie. And he could even spell it, maybe. The first word, anyway. If someone spots him the “W” and the “r.”

But when his country wanted him to go to war Cadet Bonespurs was all about playing defense, right here at home.

Hundreds of Koreans ICEd at the construction site of a Hyundai-LG battery plant in Georgia as our two nations struggle to negotiate one of his fabled “deals?” Are these the drug mules with cantaloupe-size calves that screeching racist dipshit Steve King was raving about when some folks — the press, mostly — gave a runny shit what he thought or had to say?

No, this lot had to cross an ocean instead of a river. Talk about your “bad hombres.”

And taking over the 9/11 memorial and museum in New York City? Which commemorate a disaster in which he did … fuck-all? Other than jack his jaw in complete and utterly pampered safety, like the REMF he is and always will be, that is.

Damn. Those Epstein files must really be the shit. He’d bomb Harvard to keep that story out of the news cycle.

Cowabunga!

Hey, kids, why should L.A. have all the fun?

If your idea of “fun” is having Cadet Bonespurs go all Rolling Thunder on you for having an overly noisy barbecue, that is.(Sorry, Waymo.)

“Let a hundred Stooges bloom!” as our Dear Wiseguy, Chairman Moe, has taught us. While that fat toddler plays with his (our!) Army men in DeeCee this Saturday, there will be a No Kings rally in The Duck! City. And judging by the map of scheduled events there is probably one in your neck of the peckerwoods, too.

No torches, no pitchforks — just a nationwide woo woo woo woo woo. A virtual finger-poke in that toddler’s piggy little eyes.

If he tries to get tough we’ll break out the big guns: The Groucho Marxists.

And remember, kids — when you’re smashing the State, keep a smile on your lips and a song in your heart:

Hello … you must be going. You cannot stay, I came to say, you must be going. It was a shame you ever came, you best be going. …