I find it really hard to be light-hearted and funny during a Trump pandemic.
Oh sure, there’s still lots of funny things going on, like people who have pictures of mouths put on their masks. That’s funny.
And lot’s of funny posts and tweets:
- Warning! DUI checkpoints being put up between the living room and the bedroom!
- $1200 isn’t even enough for 3 improv classes! (@devin_)
- I asked my wife whether it was Monday or Tuesday and she said ‘It’s Friday you dick.’ (unknown)
But after a few of those, I realize that I am sitting at home for the sixth straight month with nothing but time to read them, because the drooling idiot who is flinging feces all over the walls of our White House knew in early February that the pandemic was airborne and highly lethal, yet chose to tell us it’s no big deal, “before you know it, it will disappear,” it’s just like the flu. Then he told us to drink bleach and shine bright lights up our bums.
And then I’m back to surly and sullen. Simultaneously. I have skills.
So I try and get back on the humor wagon. I find it very amusing that I can now predict virtually every single thing that will occur in my house. At precisely 7:30am every single morning, my youngest child will say, “Can I have fruit?” which I must get her before she gets her own cereal. She’s seventeen.
But then Bunker Bitch starts his spin on the Woodward tapes by claiming he didn’t do anything about the pandemic because he didn’t want to panic the country. Wut? Even though he constantly warns the suburbs that POC are going to move in and destroy everything in sight and take all their Starbucks, all Dem-run cities are in VIOLENT ANTIFA CHAOS! and Obama started WWII.
At exactly 5:15pm, that same child will come back in and ask, “When is dinner gonna be ready?” and no matter what time I give her, her expression will tell me that my response was the exact wrong one.
The other day the Angry Creamsicle (Colbert) tweeted or retweeted 82 times in three hours. Try that sometime. That’s a lot. Sometimes he just tweets a few words, which is just as bad: “LAW AND ORDER!” WTF does that mean coming from him? Twitter usually has a field day with that:
*LEV & IGOR!
*SAD & SADDER!
Then at 7:42pm on the nose, my lovely and talented wife will ask, “Well, shall we watch one of our shows?” And suddenly I feel old. Our shows? Are we now my parents crouched in front of the radio listening to Fibber McGee and Molly, then shouting, “Shhh, Break the Bank is almost on!” For the record, she likes to binge one show all the way through while I prefer to cycle through three or four. These are the things that test a 30-year marriage.
Every morning, first thing I do is check the news to see what dumbass thing the Orange Neanderthal has done since he woke up after binge watching FoxNews, Breitbart, and OANN all night, hopped up on Adderall rails to the point that chunks of it fly out of his nose when he is speaking. So on a couple hours of crappy sleep, he starts tweeting and my world comes crashing down again.
Quick, show me the video of the little kitten trying to jump up on the kitchen counter!
Oh, damn, it’s more Breaking News! Now there is a whistleblower who said the DHS suppressed intel reports on Russian election interference to match Trump claims and made false statements to Congress. Whaaa? Really, who needs national security. It’s so overrated. And laws.
Augh. I need a picture of the Trump Boat Parade boats sinking. Stat.
The Liar in Chief told his followers in North Carolina to vote twice. VOTE TWICE. He is blatantly attempting to make his claim of “massive voting mail fraud ballot bad votey absentee poo poo bad Dem devil dog kaka no one should vote then I win” come true. This is a felony in N.C., by the way, if you vote twice and if you encourage people to vote twice. But for some unknown reason, no one will step up and arrest this lifetime criminal.
Quick! Let’s watch The Bachelorette: The Best Season Ever rehash so we can laugh at how pathetic we were for watching it the first time around!
I try to fight off my overwhelming feelings of hopelessness and ennui. And they manifest in outward facial signs of hostility and depression. See, I’m multi-tasking.
You know, humans throughout history have always self-medicated during difficult times. Early man knew just what plant to eat to “make all good, sit watch fire dance.” Sometimes, Cro-Magnon would just lick the ground and hope for the best.
So tonight I will metaphorically lick the ground by making myself a medicinal Negroni, and probably follow that up with a lovely-yet-inexpensive Cabernet, and try and prepare for what I hope is one less day of this shitshow produced by Putin’s Puppet.
And look for that video of a baby goat playing in a tire swing.