oh look, Sundowning Grandpa Bloodthirst made a boom-boom — only this time, it wasn’t in his pants.
I swear, every day it’s just one goddamned thing after another.
Texas Senator John Cornyn: “I don’t know what the— what’s, uh— we’re all— I’m learning like you are, as the news unfolds, exactly what's happening.”
oh geez. seriously, John? once again, Donny does whatever the fuck he wants, shits all over the Constitution, and launches an illegal and unprovoked war in the middle of the night, without consulting Congress — because fuck you, that’s why — and all Republicans can do is scratch their asses and go ‘well, I guess so.’
Cornyn doesn’t know shit, because this war is being prosecuted from a partitioned-off dining room in Donny’s Florida golf motel.
Christ on a corroded crumb cake, not this rinky-dink clownfuckishness again. this is the exact same ahem ‘secure location’ they used when they kidnapped Maduro from Venezuela. because god forbid Dear Leader interrupt his weekend golf plans for, y’know, a war.
imagine just for a moment that Joe Biden had launched ginormous airstrikes while hanging out at his Delaware beach house. Republicans would have shit a massive, collective brick. but when Dear Leader does it, nary a peep.
once again, perfectly normal stuff, am I right?
Donny’s Totally Awesome War Room™ sure looks secure as fuck, doesn’t it?
“excuse me, is the omelette bar? oops, sorry.”
Donny Demento looks totally in charge, doesn’t he?
pro Commander-in-Chief tip: when going to war, don’t forget to slather twice the usual load of makeup all over your decomposing face, because, y’know, gravitas.