Thursday, September 22, 2016

This Election is a Shit Show, Everybody Panic!

Trump on Fallon, all mussed!

I keep hearing the television persons talkin bout this CRAAAAZY ELECTION, and sometimes shake their heads in #4REALZ disbelief, as if they just watched their uncle’s girlfriend with the red beehive hairdo and exposed midriff sit down at the Thanksgiving table and show granny the serpent tattoo she just got.  In her cleavage. 

No, I get it.  It’s been especially impressiveinabadway to see how much #whitemanger has been dredged up this election, for example. Who knew this particular group had it SO much worse than the rest of us?!  Between the MANyellings of #richoldwhitemanTrump and #socialistricholdwhitemanBernie, the political tension has been thicker than back in 2012, when DavidAxelBigRod threatened to shave his mustache on live TV if Obama lost a swing state.   Sidebar: Shall we take a moment to imagine women wagering the fate of their armpit hair on electoral college outcomes? No?  Right!  Moving on. 

Mostly because of Donnie but not entirely, mundane things in this election have turned into a mean and kinda dumb playground skirmishes.  Height.  Hand size.  Bathroom breaks.  Bacteria, on lungs.  The long-established superdelegate system that nobody complained about until a woman won it.  The latest firestorm was LITERALLY about a bowl of skittles, after that picture was tweeted out by l’il Donnie J. because he sees human beings in terms of terrible candy metaphors.  The Mars company distanced themselves, well done.    Skittles were like, but we immigrated here from England!   The Brexist people were like, oh yeah and STAY OUT!  Then it was just another day in The Life and there we were, again, debating the future of our planet on Twitter.  Go back to sleep, citizenry, no shitstorms to worry about here. 

But hold up.  Yassssss, I stole that segue from Beyonce´ cuz she has ALL the phrases.  Hold up with all the surprise about Crazylection2016.   WHY are we surprised that this election is a big serpentine shitstorm, tattooed in cleavage?   I’m not surprised AT ALL.   True, I am FeministAF.  I have a PhD in U.S history.  I have about a million fewer hotels than Trump, at least 2 fewer houses than Bernie, and a couple fewer brain cells than Gary Johnson because pot smoking.  Otherwise, though, I'm not a precognition-gifted witch, and I’m basically #richandwhite.  I won’t be at the top of PrezTrump’s internment camp traincar list when the shit goes down.  Even if I refuse to remove my Hillary yard sign, and my Hillary/Beyonce2016 bumper sticker, I don't need to be especially vigilant about the Trumpocalypse.   

It just seems to me like most of the dynamics in this election COULD have been foreseen by people who foresee stuff like this, and SHOULD have been because then we'd start dealing with it in fierce and furious and maybe bipartisan ways, rather than screaming at each other and acting all surprised.

WHAT?   A big chunk of this country seems to prefer wallowing in the comfort of personal opinion and privilege than considering the role of facts in BIG decisions?   WHAT?  A shit ton of sexist cockwaffles use hashtags like #CrookedHillary and #Shillary while promoting the candidacy of a guy who refuses to follow longstanding rules of presidential politics, whether that’s releasing taxes, releasing health records, or telling the truth to a room full of people who actually have the resources to quickly fact check his answers and discover he is lying?   WHAT?  Even when Trump is called out for BEING a liar, his supporters actually give zero fucks?  I don’t like to call any of my fellow citizens dumb.  That’s an issue of personal integrity for me.  But Trump supporters? That’s some fact-challenged fucking shit right there. And I'm not really surprised they exist.

In fact, NO part of this year is more cray than We The Fact People should have expected.   Hellzlots of our countryfolk eat KFC while sitting on the couch in front of FoxHarassmentNews.  Cable news and many news outlets in general have fact-parched this arid populace beyond recognition in order to follow horse races and "panels of experts."  OMFG ENOUGH PANELS.  There are people in your/my neighborhood who silently support Trump (without a yard sign because half of the term PC is the word “correct” and smart people just kinda know it’s not correct to be racist.  Not openly, anyway.)  Those people silently supported Scott Walker in Wisconsin too!   This election, to me, is just the logical outcome of 26 mass shootings per day, an 8-person Supreme Court, constant attacks on women's bodies both literal and figurative, a radical congressional ROADBLOCK called the Tea Party, a national furor over gay wedding cakes, and countless other political shitstorms that have become part of our national character.

Instead of adulting issues like sexism and racism and poverty and the overall #fuckupedness of humanity because The Life is hard, we long ago descended into some borderline personality disorder screamfest, where everyone vents their ongoing rage that NOBODY can find awesome solutions to meet everyone’s needs perfectly and in exactly the same way.    

HELL NAW, this election is exactly as crazy as our country is.  IF people are surprised because Trump, we aren't doing enough to take our national problems seriously and turn them around.  Not just on Twitter, but in The Real Life.  We aren’t looking close enough.  Or trying hard enough.  Or loving deep enough.   And believe me, the next time I hear someone blame ALL the problems on #rigged, ima fuck me up a bitch.

Monday, September 12, 2016

True Confessions: I am Hillary Clinton's Body Double

Heath Satow productions.

If you’re a regular visitor to this blog, you might have noticed it’s been pretty quiet lately. That’s because I was busy doing other things. Like, gardening. Along with the lesbiyeomans who Rush-the-painkillers Limbaugh says are taking over America with their folk music and rescue dogs, I significantly advanced the manocide this summer by growing SLAYONCE´ sized vegetables in neat rows of animal poo in my community garden. Community sounds like Lesbian and GUESS WHO runs that mother? This little red hen do.  None of my otherwise hangry family members ever offers to help. Whenever I ask, they’re like “weeding sux” or “it’s hot” or “the kale has bugs on it.” They go swimming and leave me covered head to toe in manure. Then all of a sudden it’s September, and my radical farmgenda has already been realized WITHOUT THEM. But that's cool. In the span of just a few short months -- while the bloviarchical man-fringe in this country has gone from #feelingtheBern to #feelingtheirJohnsons -- my pie pumpkins have taken the shit over. The. Entire. Plot. Fresh pies WILL be happening this autumn, haters, and not even Julian Leakocracy Assange will be able to steal them and give them to Donald Trump.

The other thing I did this summer was work as Hillary Clinton’s body double. NBD but SHHHHHHH, nobody tell Teresa Barnwell. Poor Teresa usually gets the job, and keeps the online trollway moving at a good clip by fessing up to her crooked impersonations of Clinton at F-list parties. She wanted this gig, too, OBVI. She wanted it baaaaaad, like those JillyBeans who want to believe that polio and measles are fake words made up by Barack Obama to trick them into buying his health insurance. But GUESS WHAT else? It was not #crookedTeresa who walked out of #crookedChelsea’s apartment (which you might notice isn’t even IN Chelsea, HA! GOTCHA!) and pretended to walk by herself and spontaneously hug "a little girl" while the REAL Hillary Sicklinton, who nonstop coughs, and can’t take a step without her SecretStepService, and in some pictures has crazy eyes like NOBODY else in a candid photo ever, was inside getting IV fluids from her newborn grandson who is actually the resurrected Vince Foster.

In fact, the jig was up almost as soon as the #HillarysBodyDouble hashtag was a thing, because Snopes got on the blower and started telling everyone that #crookedTeresa was in Los Angeles, inexplicably lip synching with two dudes who appear to have been equally bad Bill Clinton and Pharrell impersonators. Thanks, Snopes. But don’t take Snopes word for it. He's a dick. I know the truth about the body double scandal because IT WAS ME. And I have evidence.

First, anyone who knows me IRL knows that I got a super short haircut this spring. It was so much shorter and more lady-trying-to-be-presidential-looking that not one but TWO children, without prompting, who were at playdates at my house but not with me, told me I “looked like Hillary Clinton.” Or maybe they said I “looked like I was trying to look like Hillary Clinton.” Their exact message didn’t matter. Remember that Hasian guy (that’s a hot Asian, not a hungry Asian, fyi) who called Hillary a whore at a Bernie rally and then said he didn’t mean it because his wife threatened to run off with Don Lemon? Same same. The damage was already done. They nailed it. I WAS trying to look exactly like Hillz, because I had already accepted a job impersonating her for the general campaign, which Robby Mook lined up because he knew Hillary would have to pretend to stand and talk and stuff.

I couldn't even deny it because kids KNOW shit. They are just like the twitter bros who spend their days searching #imwithHer hashtags so they can send you a #penisticle of reasons why you’re a dumb bitch. Sidebar: Someone just tweeted that exact message to me yesterday. I got upset for a microsecond until my friend Heath quick researched the guy and found out his THREE OTHER TWEETS were requests for gamer codes. I blocked him and told him to crawl back into his basket. I WIN TWITTER AGAIN!

Look, I hate to feed more rumors into the mediatastrophe that’s happening this election cycle, and will probably happen forever until Commerce Secretary Ailes replaces the free press with our new national station, TrumpTV, which never talks about fake scandals because it only reports on Trumpian national treasures like WallBuilding and MuslimBanning and SpeechStealing.  I am well aware that half the DAFUQtorate in America is already worked up into a tizzy about #whichlivesmattermost and #whosinmybathroom and the infringement of the legal rights of VarsitySock Brock Turner by BitchesWhoWantToControlTheirOwnTheirVaginas.  puhleeze.  And no joke -- it’s dangerous to publicly admit that I was hired to play Hillary Sicklinton’s body double, and fly around the country in a padded pantsuit, trying to get myself purposely interrupted by Matt LowerTheBar Lauer so I don’t have to say anything #fauxserious about the Supreme Court or mental health or military vets.

DAYAM, readers, I live in Wisconsin! I am literally surrounded by mentally ill paranoid gunthusiasts on one side, who think taco trucks are WAYWORSE than Vladimir Pootin, and Bernlatics on the other, who think a powerful woman president who has talked about human rights for years ALL OVER the globe will probably do terrible things to human rights so we should throw our votes into the toilet of an anti-science pothead who can’t find Aleppo on Mike Barnicle’s face, or the #womancandidateBrosLike who thinks it was great when Cubans lost weight because they had to eat zoo animals. Yummmmmm, low cholesterol.

But yeah. I'm coming clean.  The Deplorables have good theories.  Hillary Clinton is definitely chronically ill, and I am her body double which talked to a kid on the sidewalk for her, because her wobbly standing problems make FDR look like Usain Bolt by comparison. Other stuff: The DNC is totally going to replace her with Bernie because #rigged. And any day now, Trump will release his health records, his tax records, and explain to the mental satisfaction of his MAD AS HELL wypipo supporters why his European models didn’t need regular visas but Mexicans do. It’s gonna be the biggest basket of truth you’ve ever seen. It's gonna be a Fucking Cornucopia. Believe me.