presidential race

Orange Fury

I watched Donald Trump’s speech Thursday at the Republican National Convention. It was…uh…good? I’m afraid I don’t know what words mean anymore. It was definitely loud, I’ll give him that. Lots and lots of yelling. I felt like I was back in 9th grade band.

I had not realized that America had become the Thunderdome, a hellish landscape filled  with marauding gangs of illegal immigrants in place of bikers. Um, okay?

It was a laundry list of a country in crisis. While it was low on information and high on fear mongering, it had little in how Trump will actually accomplish anything other than by saying “believe me, I’ll do this.”

I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.

I condensed the best parts of the speech:

He insisted he would honor us with his “truth.”

liar

His obvious affection for the GLBTQ community

gays

His “policies”.

laws

thefixer

isis

beatles

maryceleste

becky

vincefoster

He declared he was the voice of the voiceless.

compassion

oppression

yourvoice

SHOUTING

A few other gems:

judge

trumpu

wall

And finally:

stink

I don’t know. It kind of smells like napalm.

Trump Dumps

Donald Trump, America’s favorite sentient hemorrhoid, is on the cover of Time magazine. According to Time’s editorial staff, several tag lines were tested out to see which best encapsulated the essence of a Trump presidency:

trumpbankrupttrumpirantrumpfatpigtrumptrumpsteaktrumpmexicantrumpbirdnesttrumpshoetrumpisisThey finally went with this one:

trumpanusmouth

In the video interview, Trump continued to hypnotize the electorate with his special brand of jingoism and his hair confetti.

He pontificated on why he was a better candidate than Hillary Clinton, the likely Democratic nominee:

trumpbangTrump thoughtfully explained how, unlike all other politicians, he was no puppet. He did all his own thinking.

trumppolicy

He spoke of a broken, troubled country and how he was just the guy who could fix it.

trumppoliticalcorrectHe presented his reasoned and researched stance on immigration.

trumpimmigrationThe editors attempted to include a photograph of Trump with a bald eagle, but the eagle kept attempting to eat Trump’s head having mistaken it for a muskrat carcass.

They were forced to go with a secondary shot.

trumpeagleshitsack

The Turd Towers

I am a worrier.

I worry about my job security in the public sector. I worry that I can’t leave the hangnail on my thumb alone and will result in me peeling off all my thumb skin. I worry my exposed thumb will give me restless leg syndrome.

And I worry that my devoted readers will think I put no effort into my Turd of the Week™ segment by naming Donald Trump Turd of the Week™.

Calling Trump a turd is akin to calling a rose a rose or Trump a shameless self-promoting megalomaniacal dickhead.

Nonetheless, readers, nonethemore, his turdishness stood out among all the other floaters in the toilet bowl by his ridiculous announcement of his upcoming announcement of his endorsement of an announcement of announcement. Yes, Donald Trump was going to open his big fat mouth, stretch his overused vocal cords and say something no one in the world should ever care about…..and the media was there to faithfully cover it all.

“I’m here to announce that my hair is made 100 percent out of Trump steaks.”

He tried to be sneaky by making some media outlets think he was going to endorse an overgrown baby for president.

“Don’t worry Newt, ol’ buddy ol’ pal, I’ve got a spot for you on “Celebrity Apprentice XXMMVXC.” It will also feature another baby, the baby from the E*TRADE commercials.

The Today show sent a turnip to Las Vegas to get the scoop. “…” said the turnip because turnips cannot speak. Others said “Trump’s a showman.” So is the guy who makes balloon animals at the county fair.

Trump had toyed with the idea of running for president himself. But then he realized it would be difficult to file bankruptcy for the entire country like he did for his own businesses.

Trump instead endorsed another really rich guy who could care less about the very poor. I’m paraphrasing. Republican presidential frontrunner Mitt Romney actually said “I’m not concerned about the very poor.” The very poor responded “We’re too hungry to even be able to process your statement. Oh and pfffftttttt.”

Donald Trump talked lots and lots. So do his comb-over. He mentioned China and laughter and blop. His hair flopped around with emphasis. And then his hair said: “Blippetedy bleep bleep Mitt Romney” and people applauded wildly because they are paid to do so. And then Trump checked out Mittens’ wife and said “And by the way this is a great couple, will you look at this couple” and people cheered somewhat uncomfortably and then awkwardly looked at their shoes.

And then Trump the showman finished with a twirl: “Mitt is tough. He’s smart. He’s sharp. He’s not going to allow bad things to continue to happen to this country we love. He will eat all the very poor and then crap them out in a productive manner. His wife has a great rack. Gov. Romney go out and get ’em. You can do it.”

Well turded, hairpiece. Well turded.

I Like the Way Your Ass Looks in Those Pants

Pizzadential hopeful Herman Cain has been accused of sexual harassment.

As someone who has worked in food industry, I find this shocking…wait…oh right, I find this to be status quo of working in food industry. What’s awesome about being female and working in food industry is that you can get sexually harassed by management, other employees and customers. It’s a win-win-win.

I remember when I worked in a coffee house and I would ask customers if they would like room for cream in their coffee, i.e. not fill it to the point where it’s sloshing over the sides, and some men would inevitably say “Are you the cream?”

No. No, I’m not. You realize that pick-up line is completely nonsensical? It would be better to say “I produce my own cream.” Wait, why am I helping you sexually harass me?

But what the &@*(!& is sexual harassment? Ann Curry wants to know on today Today show. “It’s very difficult to get your hands on it,” she says. I’d like to get my hands on it.

I’m kidding. See my ring? I’m married. I’m just joking around. Jesus, lighten up.

She’s invited some hot pieces of ass to help her sort this issue out. I’d like to sort it out all night long. I can, you know, go all night long. *Speaker7 gestures emphatically toward her package*

Starr Jones says it’s when people do things that are really, really lame.

So it’s really about how the woman responds, Ann queries. Of course women who accuse men of sexual harassment are likely liberal activists or “official hyperventilators of the first order,” according to Republican Rep. Steve King.

He likely has been turned down for sex too many time to mention. Poor Steve and his really, really small penis.

Cain settled for $35,000 with one of his accusers. “That’s a smoking gun, right,” asks Ann.

I’ve got a smoking “gun” for you.

No, that’s a really small settlement, says Starr Jones. Almost as small as Steve King’s penis. Tiny, tiny, tiny.

We haven’t heard yet from Steve Abdubato who wrote a book called You are the Brand and uses the word “brand” as every other word. He seems like an official hyperventilator of the first order when he screams: “Herman Cain’s only brand is that he’s an outsider. I wrote a book about brands. The problem with Herman Cain from a communications and PR branding point of view is that his policy ideas are ridiculous.” He might not have said those last five words. That doesn’t make those last five words less true.

Does Herman Cain’s wife have to get out there and say my husband is not likely the giant slime douchebag he is, Ann asks.

Please don’t, whoever Herman Cain’s wife happens to be.

Steve has a better idea. “Man up. Brand. Brand. I wrote a book about that. Admit that you screwed up. I wasn’t as honest as I brand brand You are the Brand, available on Amazon.”

And that was it.

Poor Steve King and his Ken-doll-like genitalia.