turd

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

Trump Stump

Oh, bless his little orange, puffy face!

Donald Trump may seek the GOP nomination for govenor of New York.

This is news, people.

In the same way, it was news when Donald Trump declared he was running for president those 4,001,321 times. Or when he fashioned that ridiculous hair mop he wears on his head from wood shavings and a can of KRAFT® Easy Cheese.

The frequent-bankruptcy-filing “billionaire” says he is considering running because he is a paranoid delusional narcissist who believes he farts gold nuggets believes he can win.

donaldnoneckTrump was at some Republican fundraiser on Friday to talk about the dangers of over-tanning prove that a person can still communicate even when it’s clear one’s brain is disconnected from one’s spinal cord.

trumpedhairI’m not a fan of Gov. Andrew Cuomo. I voted for him only because the other guy wanted to convert prisons into “welfare dorms.” Now if Trump seriously gets the nomination, and that is a big bloated if, I will once again be forced to cast a vote for a politician who routinely denigrates my profession as an educator–as if we are all educators at Donald Trump University.

At the $100-per-person event, Trump outlined his platform. He would turn New York into the energy capitol. He has volunteered to act as the state-wide gas bag. He supports hydrofracking and wants to repeal the NY SAFE act, which requires ammunition dealers to do background checks and the creation of registry of assault weapons. It also requires mental health professionals to report credible threats made by a mental health patient.

Trump stated that he himself is licensed to carry a gun.

I wonder if I can find that number to make a report.

More importantly Trump touted his number one issue–how to stay relevant beyond his woman parade pageant and his nonCelebrity Apprentice snoozefest.

trumpissueLike I said before:

News.

A Farewell to Penis

I’ve been having difficulty writing lately, and now I’ve finally figured out why:

I possess a vagina.

It gets in the way of everything. When I’m attempting to squeeze a big thought out of my tiny woman brain, my vagina interrupts the process with demands for chocolate. When I attempt to hold a pen using my weakly woman arms, my vagina shrieks about being too fat. When I try to write a post on Speaker7, my vagina threatens to set itself on fire.

It’s no wonder the ladies get paid less, amirte fellas. Up top.

David Gilmour gets it. He sees no value in teaching the drivel excreted by ladybits in his Big Dick Writers 101 seminar.

“Women be stupid,” Gilmour laments.

That’s a slight paraphrase. What he actually said was much worse:

“I say I don’t love women writers enough to teach them, if you want women writers go down the hall. What I teach is guys. Serious heterosexual guys. F. Scott Fitzgerald, Chekhov, Tolstoy. Real guy-guys. Henry Miller. Philip Roth,” Gilmour huffs whilst sticking his enormous plumbing into the biggest glory hole one has ever seen.

doucheI should probably amend the paraphrase to add women and gays be stupid, but Gilmour is likely the type of specimen to think the terms interchangable.

Gilmour is able to stop masturbating over his copy of Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer to give props to lady mouthpiece Virginia Woolf, stating “she made a mean bundt cake.” (slight paraphrasing)

O Captain! My Captain! …Shit! I’m trying to stand on a desk to salute this brilliant professor, but I’ve got my period and whole slew of laundry that needs a-washing.

By the way, what the blazing fuck is a woman writer anyway?

I’m answering my own question:

One who writes with her vagina.

This profile in misogyny made me harken back to my days of playing drums in a rock band that no one–apart from my parents and that guy at the bar–ever heard. I can’t tell you how many times I heard:

You’re one of the best female drummers.

I don’t know. . . is that a thing? Did male drummers have some sort of advantage by being able to use their penis to bang on the floor tom?

All great questions, but too taxing for my smaller, less interesting brain.

My vagina’s tired of writing anyways and is angrily demanding chocolate.

Heckuva Turd

One might say criticizing the president for responding too quickly to Hurricane Sandy is partisan hackery at its best.

But when that critic is the poster child of one of the most botched relief efforts in recent U.S. history, that critic floats to the level of turd superstar, otherwise known as Turd of the Week™.

Michael “heckuva job, Brownie” Brown took Obama to task for holding a press conference the day before the storm hit.

Apparently it’s way better to deal with the mess after it happens. The Bush Administration waited a good amount of time before noticing much of the Gulf Coast was underwater from Hurricane Katrina in August 2005. In fact the day after the levees fell in New Orleans, President Bush was quoted as saying “New Orleans dodged a bullet.” Once they realized things were grim, they responded by not responding. Brown, a former supervisor of horse judges and then current head of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, “led” the relief effort.

Two weeks later, Brown resigned in disgrace.

In the storm’s aftermath, Brown, like much of Louisiana, seemed to be in over his head.

On the day Katrina made landfall, Brown was busy typing “funny” emails to staff, like:

“Can I quit now? Can I go home?” (2005 Speaker7’s reply: Yes, and take the entire Bush Administration with you.)

And emails about FEMA attire:

At the Congressional hearings on Katrina a year later, Brown pointed the finger-of-blame at everyone including a little boy scout who was visiting the Capitol for the first time ever after selling the most popcorn balls in his troop. When members of Congress demanded he admit his culpability in the colossal fuckery, he yelled like a two-year-old.

So it makes sense that Brownie should ever speak anything about someone else’s heckuva job since he knows exactly how disaster relief shouldn’t unfold.

Or what I meant to write is it makes sense that he won my weekly turd award because…cheese and crackers, Michael Brown, why the flipping hell do you think anyone wants to hear your take on this?

Turd.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the third post. It is a post about turds. There may be many more due to the overabundance of turds. Would you like to read about something other than turds this month? Then leave a suggestion in the comments. 

The Greatest Turd of All

The night Whitney Houston died, I remember clearly thinking:

I wonder what Bill O’Reilly thinks about this?

Lucky for me–and the world–he shared his views on his show and in his column and later again on the Today show and then again on Fox & Friends. Bill harped on how the media exploited Whitney’s troubles when she was alive. He said this on his show and then in his column and later again on the Today show and then again on Fox & Friends.

“The media exploited her,” O’Reilly thundered. On his show, and then in his column and later again on the Today show and then again on Fox & Friends.

Bill O’Reilly has a new book coming out, Killing Kennedy. But before we get to learning about that literary masterpiece, Matt Lauer wants to talk about what Bill O’Reilly said on his show, which Bill then reiterated in his column (If you want to know what Matt and Bill talked about, you can watch O’Reilly rehash it on Fox & Friends)

“You said blah blah blah,” Matt quotes from Bill’s no-spin mouth.

“Yup,” Bill says, lathering a falafel.

“Then you said blah blah blah,” Matt quotes. “And people are all like ‘you dick.'”

“People have not been paying attention to me,” Bill says. “That’s why I yelled on my show. And now you’re interviewing me. And my comments are the subject of 870 news articles. And I’m headed to Fox & Friends next to bleat and moo some more until my vocal chords shred into pieces of confetti. I prayed for Whitney Houston.”

“Okay, but I’m going to get all up in arms over this in way that I never do about news stories that actually matter,” Matt says.

“Bring it Lauer,” Bill says and then sexually harasses an intern.

“You said that Whitney wanted to kill herself and that all people who take hard drugs are the same,” Matt paraphrases for Speaker7 because do you really expect her to listen to Matt over and over again to get the quote 100 percent accurate. “Addiction is a disease. And if you’re suffering from a disease, then you cannot make that choice.”

“Wrong,” O’Reilly says. “There are real diseases like elephantitis of the penis, which I suffer from greatly, ladies. If any ladies want to know how greatly, I will show them in the shower right after I rub them down with a falafel. Free will, Lauer. We, the media, look the other way–when instead we should be as judgmental as possible.”

“Should journalists be in the position of conducting interventions?” Matt asks, and that’s a good question. I’m kind of stunned. Matt Lauer asked a good question.

“They should be in the business of telling the truth,” O’Reilly responds. “Unless they are writing a book like Killing Lincoln. Then it’s okay to insert lots of factual errors, so many so, that the Ford Theater refuses to carry your book.”

Bill insists he was the only person to tell Whitney to knock it off. Why she didn’t listen to him will always haunt him.

“So tell us about your upcoming book,” Matt queries

“It will be horrible, but it will make me a lot of money,” O’Reilly turds. He turds this because he is the Turd of the Week™.

I prayed for this turd on my head.