What’s the forecast

The latest from the Ovaltine Office of President Fibface Pantsablaze reveals that reactions to his stable genius military move in Syria have not been particularly super. “A disaster,” said General Chaos. “A total disaster,” wrote General Confusion. “A complete disaster,” opined General Hysteria. “A catastrophic disaster,” chirped General Electric. “A disastrous catastrophe,” agreed General “Mad Dog” Von Mouthfoam. “What is the next level of disaster beyond total, complete and catastrophic?” asked General C.F. McCluster. “Truly a major fuckup,” wrote the ghost of John McCain on Lindsey Graham’s Ouija board.

This is what Government by Gut looks like when the Gut in question is spewing out impulsive decisions of booger-picking ignorance, resulting in nice allies running for their lives. Dare we consider the Gut-in-Charge? A steaming, sluggish, utterly foul abdominal region filled with festering Quarter Pounders and ice cream sludge slicks? Let’s daren’t. Oops, heads up! Incoming chicken nuggets! Helmets on!

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Remember—if its mouth is moving, it's lying. Pouty Pottyhead POTUS has now achieved zero credibility. He had to work damn hard to get there. The corruption of the Trump Administration is exceeded only by its detestability. Or vice versa.

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All these comments about the difficulty of the Mueller Report, how it was just too dry, too complex, too challenging for the average American. Jesus F. Christ, how effing dumb are we? This stuff isn’t quantum physics, you know. Mueller laid out multiple cases of obstruction of justice, and did so thoroughly and professionally. For him to have his work dismissed because many Americans can’t read or comprehend a slam dunk legal case must have blown Mueller’s mind. He must think he’s in the America of President Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho, the POTUS from eerily prescient film Idiocracy.

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Last year, I predicted that Twitler would spend only two Christmases in the White House. It's a long shot, but I got a chance. For real. Especially if Moscow Mitch makes good on his vow to get Dum Dum tried by year's end. (Hey, MM! Go fuck yourself!) Everybody assumes that the bloc of Republican invertebrates in the Senate is an impenetrable, unmovable mass of pure, blobbish evil. I'm not so sure. To get a conviction in the Senate, we need 20 Retrumplican lickspittles to bail on DimDon. Romney’s the first. Murkowski might well be second. Two down, 18 to go. Sure, it's unlikely. But if the dam cracks, shit happens. And the dam is under pressure right now—good, steady pressure. So, who knows?