“Get out, Sean!” the hat screamed from under the desk. “Get out, get out, get out!”
“We are going to let him resign,” the hair told him.
“No, fire him. I want him fired. I want to do it. Have Donald whomp him over the head with me like The Skipper and Gilligan!”
“Who?”
“The Skipper? Gilligan? I was a TV show?”
“Before my time, I guess.”
“All of time was before your time, you infant wig!”
“Can I pardon myself?” Donald asked.
“I don’t think so, Donald,” the hair said.
“You’ve really never seen Gilligan’s Island?” the hat asked.
“Why not?” Donald asked.
“Precedent. Ford had to pardon Nixon for Watergate,” the hair told him.
“What’s Watergate?” Donald asked, shifting his bulk around in his Oval Office chair.
“It’s a hotel, moron,” the hat said. Donald kicked him with a filthy bare foot.
“Don’t kick me!” the hat wailed.
“Kick him, Donald,” the hair urged, “Kick him hard!”
“Stop encouraging him!” the hair yelled.
“Can Jeff pardon me?” Donald asked.
“Jeff is Attorney General, Donald,” the hair told him.
“So? Can he pardon me?”
“No, only the President can pardon someone?”
“Who’s the President? Can I call him?”
“You’re the President, Donald,” the hair said patiently.
“Damn fucking right, I am!” he roared. “I pardon myself. Donald J. Trump, thou art pardoned!”
“That’s not how it works, Donald!” the hat said. Donald was stepping on him now and his voice from under the desk was distorted and faint.
“Russia doesn’t matter anymore! I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned!” Donald yelled, getting up to run in circles around his desk.
He stopped after a few laps, breathing raggedly. “Russia is all fake news from now on,” he gasped. “Mueller is fired. Jeff is fired. I’m free!”
Donald pulled open the Oval Office door and took off down the hallway toward the Residence, the hair flapping behind him, struggling to hang on.
“I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned,” he told his secretaries taking selfies with their salads.
“I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned,” he told Reince masturbating in his office to Holocaust autopsies.
“I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned,” he told his Sarah as she was sitting on a chocolate cake and moaning.
“I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned,” he told he told a scowling Melania as she gave her son his bath.
“I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned,” he told Steve, the homeless drunk sleeping in his bed. “I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned,” as he tried to shake him awake. “I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned,” he screamed while stamping his foot.
“Steve?”
“Stevey?”
“Wake up, Steve. I need to tell you something.”
“Steve?”
“Donald,” the hair whispered. “You might need to call for someone.”
“Nonsense. Steve is just playing a joke.” He poked the homeless man in the neck. “C’mon, Steve, joke’s over. You need to wake up.”
“Donald,” the hair said, “I think he’s dead.”
A toilet flushed and Steve came out of the bathroom, wiped his hands off on his shirt. “Who’s dead?”
“Steve!” Donald said and hugged him. “You’re OK. I told you he was OK!”
“Then who is in the bed?” the hair asked quietly.
“Who is in the bed?” Donald asked.
“A man can’t have someone over for the night?” Steve asked.
“But who is it?” Donald asked. He went to poke the man in the bed again and jammed his finger into the body’s eye.
“No one,” Steve said walking back into the bathroom. “Have it cleaned up,” he told Donald.
OOOHHH….Plot twist!
*shivers*
We need more visuals for Sugarfree articles.
Not right after lunch.
No. We definitely do not need any visuals.
Just close your eyes and the primordial parts of your brainstem will paint the screaming morass onto the back of your eyeballs.
DO NOT LEAVE THEM CLOSED FOR TOO LONG.
That way lies madness.
Visuals? I visualized the whole thing. Tis the trait of good writing to enter ones brain with visuals. Demented as fuck in the case of SF, but good none the less.
As much as we all like to give SF credit for his writing, I have a feeling it will come out eventually that he is just transcribing a secret WH camera feed.
And the part that keeps me up at night: Do I have access to the camera or does it have access to me?
If the camera had access to you, you’d long ago have been taken to a secure facility. I think you’re safe.
Is there no government overreach that statists won’t defend?
http://www.newstatesman.com/politics/staggers/2017/07/you-may-call-me-monster-im-glad-girls-lemonade-stall-got-shut-down
Seems the coont is mostly mad the little girl wasn’t paying to be in a union.
A culture of entitlement, and a belief that rules are for other people but not us, is a disease gripping middle Britain.
I want men combing this guy’s life and his house for any infraction that will lead to heavy fines and/or jail time.
Entitlement = Trying to accomplish something on your own
Not entitlement = Tearing down other people to make yourself feel better
The person who wrote that would probably be pretty happy in jail. Lots of order and people telling him what to do.
No freedom means no responsibility, to some having no responsibility is all the freedom they want or need.
It’s funny how they’ve basically become the 90s Saturday morning cartoon villains that they claimed ‘capitalists’ were on stuff like Captain Planet.
The New Statist is more like it. Fuck off limey slaver.
Video of the encounter:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjMutF_jnrU
Man I forgot how evil our resident Ed Wuncler really is.
If this were the opposite sort of take on, say, gun control, it would be passed around in all of the mainstream media outlets. This story? Never. The progs who read it will silently use it to reinforce their warped worldview and come at their ideological opponents derpier than ever the next go around.
Something went really wrong in Duncan’s life between April 25, 2017 and May 8, 2017.
evidence
I noticed that too. Like really wrong. Like Hillary feeding on him wrong.
Maybe it was lemonade poisoning?
It’s what happens when you’re a member of Labour, eventually you go from a happy-go-lucky carefree twentysomething who just wants to ‘help the world man’ and age twenty years into a curmudgeony failure of an aged socialist.
My Mom, to a tee! Excellent!
What an asshole.
I’m having a hard time understanding him. Maybe if he took the state’s dick out of his mouth it would be a little easier.
Can’t. stop. laughing.
https://twitter.com/michaeldweiss/status/888444729062502400
What is Aleppo?
You guys did ok that one time.
Joy wants to bring back the Dual Monarchy, I see.
Try to start the Great War back up, maybe?
Ever since the abduction, it seems like hat and hair have lost their grip. It’s time to put the trauma behind, H&H. Make hair coverings great again!
So, what are you hoping for, the rousing motivational speech where hair tells MAGA Prime that he believes in him, followed by the rousing training montage before hat goes on his glorious mission?
We are still two years away from the primary cycle.
Ummm…ok.
I rather enjoy the image of Trump running around yelling “I’m pardoned!”. Mentally, I imagine he’s holding a pot over his head and banging on it with a spoon like Steve Martin playing Ruprecht in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.
I imagine it as a fucked up version of this:
https://youtu.be/lxNXtjGY_Us?t=1m27s
“Why, why, why I don’t have your hat, Donald… It’s in Sean’s house, and it’s in Sarah’s house!”
“What’s my hat doing in your fucking house, Sarah?”
“Teacher says that every time a bell rings, a White House Press Secretary blows his brains out.”
Stop telling me wonderful lies Sugarfree.
You’re gonna get me fired with that one. That was a genuine guffaw there.
That’s excellent.
“I like it, SF, and I’d like you to do some of these for our distinguished publication.”
/editor of Salon
(just a little joke)
Seriously, I would guess that if the President pardoned himself, it would be valid, but Congress would rush on a bipartisan basis to impeach and remove him.
The resignation of the presidential mouthpiece is apparently worthy of live coverage from outside his house.
Makes sense.
Forgot the link
According to the This is a link:
“Sean Spicer, the White House press secretary, resigned on Friday morning, after denouncing chaos in the West Wing and telling President Trump he vehemently disagreed with the appointment of the New York financier Anthony Scaramucci as communications director.”
But will he do the fandango?
According to the NY Times etc.
The most appalling thing from the Reuters live feed? That Spicer’s nondescript house retails for three-quarters of a million dollars. Northern Virginia is a fucked up place to live.
My sister in law lives in Northern Virginia and you’re right when you say that the real estate prices are un-fucking real.
It would be more accurate to say the house is worth 100K and the lot is worth 650K. If the house burns to the ground, the insurance does not cough up 750K.
This is true.
You see the same crap on the west coast — a shitty little bungalow sitting on lot valued at 1 mil.
That’s a lot!
If you ever wanted proof that nobody in the media has a single shred of self-awareness, this is it.
https://twitter.com/JoyAnnReid/status/888470226748264448
Shouldn’t she be brushing up on Balkan history?
I legitimately laughed when I saw she has “Ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.” – James Baldwin” listed in her Twitter description.
*With giant picture of Dear Leader in background, pimping his version of Mussolini’s ‘My Rise and Fall’*
God dammit, yes! We need this! Someone get IRL Donald to do this – Kushner would be a good target. Or Sessions, or McConnel…I don’t give a fuck who, just do it!
There’s blood in the water and the sharks are already circling.
US Senate candidate Kelli Ward, who is challenging Arizona Sen. Jeff Flake in the state’s 2018 Republican primary, said Thursday that she hopes Sen. John McCain will step aside as quickly as possible following the news this week of his brain cancer diagnosis.
Wishing John McCain a complete cure and speedy recovery…
But I’m reminded of the joke whose punch line is “I don’t need that brain now, I’m a general!” With “general” changed to “Senator.”
“I’m pardoned, I’m pardoned,” he told Reince masturbating in his office to Holocaust autopsies.
Just…wow.
A+
How hot is it in VA, you ask? The missus is at Kings Dominion with the tykes and said someone passed out at the water park, in the wave pool. 100° + humid as hell.
99 currently here in arkansas. Full humidity has the index at about 107. I raked hay this afternoon. I’m gonna square bale it here in a few hours. I don’t plan on picking it up and putting it in the barn until well after sundown.
I stand corrected – refreshed Weather Underground and it’s 102 now. Heat index of 112.
So…
Balmy?
It’s a lovely 73 in here!
Normally I’m jealous when the wife and kids go to KD on her days off during the week, but not today. I can’t believe she went today. The hell with baking in this weather.
Remind me again how much worse AZ is. Once you regain consciousness, I mean.
“Get out, Sean!” the hat screamed from under the desk. “Get out, get out, get out!”
I first read that as, “get put from under the desk sean, the hat screamed.”
Knowing SF, I figured he was doing something inappropriate under Donald’s desk.
The “Sarah sitting on a chocolate cake, moaning!” line is comedy gold! Fuck the other site! Fuck them with woodchippers that breed smaller woodchippers until we reach the point of nano-chippers. I love you people!