Dear Friends,

I’ve been sidetracked with another project for a while but I had to come out of hiding for a second to recap some of last week’s insanity. There’s no way to get to it all. Melania Trump telling Christmas to fuck off didn’t even make the top 10. Blockbuster stories that normally would have dominated headlines for months only managed to get a few hours of oxygen before the next barn burner. It was nuts! I’m completely lost on the timeline and way too lazy to go back and fact check details so this will all be off the top of my head.

Trump’s old campaign manager loses it!

Brad Parscale, who was already in trouble for stealing millions of dollars from the campaign, got drunk, beat his wife, and busted out his guns. His wife called the police and when they showed up he was waving a gun around in a drunk rant so the cops shot him and took turns putting their knees on his neck. Just kidding, he’s white so they called one of Brad’s buddies to gently coo at him and then gave him a ride to Promises by the Sea where he could talk about his feelings and get foot massages.  He whined that everything was his wife’s fault because she wouldn’t have sex with him and I didn’t even have time to mock him because the next story dropped and HOLY SHIT…

The New York Times got Trump’s tax returns!

We should still be talking about this because it’s unbelievable that this guy is the president of anything. Y’all, that man is ONE BROKE MOTHERFUCKER. Seriously, Donald Trump is either the worst businessman ever or he’s got the most successful laundromat in the history of crime. Both could be true. Dude’s got some major trouble with the IRS and he owes at least $421,000,000(!) to someone who is totes not shady. It’s all coming due in the next 4 years which is a problem because he has leveraged his leverage or was it mortgaged his leverage? I don’t know or care but his financials are undeniably toe up. Speaking of toe up…

Trump almost died!

Unfortunately, he is still with us but the whole thing was very exciting solemn. Trump named some Handmaid’s Tale auntie to the Supreme Court and had a big ole party to congratulate himself which resulted in a Covid-19 superspreader event because RBG was like, “fuuuuuck youuuuu…” as she floated over the crowd on her way to Heaven. RBG and her new bff G.O.D spent her first day in heaven munching popcorn in a Muppet Show balcony and cracking themselves up because tossing Covid bombs at Kellyanne Conway is SO FUN. I might be projecting my own vision of heaven here. Back to the fun part though, Trump almost dropping dead!

Note: Before you clutch your pearls (not that you would or we wouldn’t be friends), wishing someone dead is not the same as actually killing them so it’s totally okay. For example, I might wish Trump would fall off the Truman balcony but I’d never do the actual shoving. Or, I may occasionally wish I could put my kids in cages, however, I’d never do that because I’m not a fucking monster. Trump, on the other hand, actually did put kids in cages because he is a fucking monster. Get it? Wishing and doing are very different things. Never be scared of your own thoughts, ladies.

Back to the nearly dead thing…Trump claims that he was being tested for Covid regularly and he was! Once a year counts as “regularly” – duh. So, he got sick and it certainly couldn’t have been Covid because his test last May was negative but then he started kinda dying and had to fess up.

By the way, y’all have got to quit asking him when his last negative test was because we all know that douchebag wasn’t having Q-Tips stuck up his nose on the regs. No chance in hell he’d submit to doing anything uncomfortable for other people’s safety.

Anyway, Trump infected so many people and did not give a single fuck. Blowing snot all over war widows and orphans? Nope, no fucks. Coughing on elderly senators and portly governors? lol…negative fucks. When he could no longer hide the dying thing, he took a helicopter to the hospital (cuz he’s a big crybaby) where he was treated with a gazillion dollars worth of drugs in a 4 room suite where he had, like, 20 doctors and a brass band. Then he was pumped full of steroids that made him feel like his regular old ‘roided out self and did the Kool-Aid Man escape from the hospital. He went back to the White House and did a creepy AF dictator skit from the Truman balcony. The photographer forgot to push him though so now…

There’s an unhinged, unmasked disease vector rattling around an empty White House, flinging poo at televisions. Mark Meadows is working the phones and doing the cooking since everyone else is either quarantined or sick. Everything is terrible for them and it’s kind of awesome. The rest of America is refreshing Twitter, playing Covid bingo (Bill Barr is worth 2 squares!) and wondering why an untethered parade balloon has nuclear weapons.

In the land of reality-based humans, Biden did his soothing grandpa thing and spoke at Gettysburg which normally would have moved me but it’s hard to switch gears from poking little orange dolls to crying patriot tears. God, I miss tears. It will be so nice if Biden is inaugurated in January and I can break up with Twitter and train myself to blink again.

In summary, the past week has been exhausting and draining because it’s 2020 but there’s a little sliver of hope out there that we just might be okay if the stars align and RBG gets the last word.

Amy