Flushing Day is Upon Us At Last! Oh Joy! Oh Rapture! (Ferret/Shower Cap)
Well, my antifa comrades, I can scarcely believe the day has finally arrived. Operation: Jade Helm has entered its final stages, and the destruction of the suburbs is imminent. Time to see what this coalition, forged by four years of relentless Resistance, can do. What a long strange trip it’s been, amiright? (Extends hand for high five. Waits. Retreats from sea of glares.)
(Yes, this post too, can be found, with news links, here: http://showercapblog.com/flushing-day-is-upon-us-at-last-oh-joy-oh-rapture/)
I’m posting this from an old laptop of Hunter Biden’s, by the way. You can buy ‘em wholesale at Crazy Rudy’s Discount Russian Propaganda Emporium; they’ll even throw in a semi-automatic rifle with the serial number filed off PLUS a bump stock AND a toaster oven if you can recite your favorite QAnon conspiracy theory without shitting yourself. (To date, no Trumpists have successfully completed this challenge; they are a famously incontinent lot.)
President Shartcannon’s final weekend of campaigning has been surprisingly subdued and conventional...for the high priest of a white supremacist death cult, anyway. It’s mostly the same old This is How Grandpa Got Banned From Applebee’s For Life screeching we’ve learned to tune out, with a little extra desperation born of late-night visits from Dickensian ghosts thrown in for flavor.
I confess, “Joe Biden wants to dismantle the Washington Monument for...some reason” was an inspired spaghetti strand to throw at the wall, but alas, it won’t stick any better than your previous efforts, my darling little fabulists, because you forgot to light the burner under the pot in the first place.
Of course, with all his maskless superspreader rallies, it’s not so much Joe Biden that Gameshow Göring is running against, but reality itself. We’ll see how that plays at the ballot box soon enough, but on the ground, Reality remains undefeated; a new Stanford study links these loser shindigs to 30,000 Covid infections, and 700 deaths. Now, if I were desperate to recreate the razor-thin margins that propelled my previous surprise victory, I wouldn’t spend so much time killing off my most loyal swing state supporters, but then, I wouldn’t appear in public with a necktie hanging down to my fucking knees and pants that look like I’m dressed up like the back end of a hippopotamus, either.
Still, even as their Turd Emperor flails and falters, the rank and file crotchtumors of Cult45 have been poring over their Junior Brownshirt Handbooks to find fun n’ fashy ways to contribute to the effort to end democracy in the United States.
A caravan of the shittiest thugs in all of Texas decided that America didn’t resemble Fallujah quite enough for their liking, and so they engaged in a little recreational vehicular terrorism, surrounding a Biden campaign bus and trying to force it off the road. When shit like this happens in other countries, news anchors tend to use phrases like “sectarian violence,” but the Bonespur Buttplug hasn’t been this thrilled since he learned he could charge the Secret Service to pee.
Of course, not all American terrorists drive trucks; some, it appears, can be found behind the wheels of police cruisers, violently enforcing institutional white supremacy while drawing a taxpayer-funded salary, as in the case of the uniformed goons who tear-gassed a crowd of entirely peaceful Black Lives Matter protesters in North Carolina, rather than allow them to continue their planned march to the local polling station.
Shit like this was presented to me in school, via grainy black-and-white news footage reproduced on VHS, as the savage behavior of a vanquished past. “Don’t worry,” said the social studies teacher, “We’re better than this now, your parents’ generation figured everything out.” And I believed ‘em. In fairness, I was a bit of a dumbass*.
I suppose after all these new entries on the It’s Happening Here inventory sheet, the weekend’s acts of mere traffic obstruction in New York and New Jersey seem comparatively tame, but still, let’s nip that shit in the bud before this dirtbag book club gets any deeper into Mein Kampf, okay?
Having added “craven sycophancy” to his catalog of addictions, Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet plans to replace the handful of adults who have managed to linger in the corners of his administration with a shiny new crew of Chad Wolfs and John Ratcliffes. Or should that be, “Chads Wolf and Johns Ratcliffe?” POINT IS, no more gatekeepers, only accomplices.
And it goes without saying Weehands McNodick is sick of sharing the spotlight with that smartypants Dr. Fauci, he’s almost as bad as Reality, undermining the disinformation and wishful thinking and whatnot. I don’t expect America’s Handsomest Epidemiologist to make it through the week, frankly; President Crotchrot let the virus kill us off by the tens of thousands when he was still trying to get us to vote for him, I shudder to imagine how he’ll handle rejection.
I see Scott Atlas took a break from his regular endeavors, assisting the coronavirus in its spread through the American populace, to moonlight as a useful idiot on RT. I feel like sending your top health care advisor out to dance for Putin’s pet propagandists during a pandemic is disqualifying for the presidency, but then, I thought the “they're rapists” speech was disqualifying, too. Cool party you got there, Republicans.
Word on the street is, Hairplug Himmler plans to simply declare himself the victor at some point on Tuesday night, regardless of the number of uncounted votes, and hey, why not? When you’ve got a millions-strong rube army who dementedly interpret your endless hours of television watching as a heroic battle against a satanic deep-state pedophile cabal, why not simply keep on lying? I mean, sure, there’s always the possibility of further violence, but with sociopathic narcissism taking care of any pesky feelings of guilt, what’ve you got to lose, really?
This is why his broke-ass campaign has made the ritual post-rally Abandoning of the Bumpkins a regular feature of the Trump experience. Since we live in Hell, I’m certain there are a few breathless NYT/WaPo articles, interviewing the deserted, who proclaim, like so many Appalachian diner patrons, that being left to die in the cold hasn’t shaken their faith in Sultan Spraytan, not one bit, we prioritize hatred over even self-preservation, dagnabbit...but I’ve managed to avoid reading ‘em so far, thank god.
Fortunately, Team Treasonweasel’s despicable efforts to undermine the election through the courts have generally failed, from Nevada to that scumfuck Hail Mary where Texas Republicans tried to just set 127,000 ballots on fire on account of how they were likely to favor Democrats. C’mon, Fundamental Institutions of American Democracy! We just need you to hang in there a little while longer, the clock’s finally running down...
And so, on the eve of his likely firing, the Velveeta Vulgarian once again retreats into his increasingly fortified bunker, to await tonight’s inevitable procession of phantoms; the restless spirits of those he left to die in Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria; the victims of the mass shooting in El Paso, the victims of the Tree of Life synagogue shooting, all the victims of all the monsters who felt emboldened by the president’s hateful words to act on their violent fantasies; the legion of Covid dead, and countless others, forgive me, I’m too angry to keep going. Despair, and die, you diarrhea-gargling human cancer.
Motherfucker. I fantasized about wrapping up election season with some rousing sermon on decency and democracy and all that good good stuff, but the truth is, like all of y’all out there, I’m worn the fuck out, and while I’m confident tonight, right now, I just need to get shitfaced and play video games for a bit. Anyway, you don’t need me to tell you what you’ve been fighting for, do you?
Thank you for resisting with me, folks. Thanks for reading these silly little rants. Thank you especially for using the Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide to donate to the Democratic Party’s awesome candidates, we raised nearly $40,000 with that site, and I’m genuinely prouder of that than anything else I’ve done in my life.
http://showercapblog.com/fascist-flushing-2020-guide-house/
I still don’t really understand how I ended up doing this, but I’m endlessly thankful that I stumbled across such a bizarre little path, and that I got to meet so many fantastic, passionate patriots while wandering along it.
Anyway, if you’re not busy tomorrow (or today, depending on when you read this), I was thinking maybe we could all get together and save our country from a gang of malicious fuckups? Wear somethin’ sexy.
*I feel like I should provide a link to some sort of visual proof of my middle school dumbassness, but none of that stuff is digitized, sorry. I was really into Ninja Turtles, and I had those glasses that turned into sunglasses when you went outside, if that helps.
= new reply since forum marked as read
Too true 
Last edited Tue Nov 3, 2020, 07:29 AM - Edit history (1)
An old VHS player with a broken clock and a free AOL CD.
I would've scarfed the VHS player. However, the remote was missing.
Hang on! I've set my Bidenolian Space Vectorizor to get-me-the-hell-there-now! It's lit up like a Christmas tree... Very Ooo and Ahh worthy with a purpose. 
Thanks for everything, SC! I don't know how you ended up here doing what you've done, it's been wonderful and memorable. One of the very very very few bright spots in a dark age.
Ciao for now!
To the other side!
Thank you for all you do!
thanks to you for being the voice of sanity (insanity?) amidst the wreckage of the last 4 years. You have brought much laughter, a few tears, and a plethora of monikers for IQ45 ("Circus Peanut Sydney Greenstreet" is my absolute fave).
Tip o' the hat (or showercap, as it were) to you, sir!
through this wild ride through Hell, Ferret!
Thank you for all the colorful language and great thinking for all this time.
You have lightened our path and helped us immeasurably with our burdens!
Blessings to you!
Great job with the Fascist-Flushing 2020 Action Guide! 
You have provided a wonderful, necessary vent by proxy filled with some of the best nicknames ever for the would-be toddler tyrant, and a lot of laughs we've all needed so much to make it through these times. I hope you still keep writing a regular column going forward, because your acerbic wit would be sorely missed.
Darned low post count lurker.
