Trump’s True Confession Tour

I have a confession to make: I’ve never seen the movie True Confession. I’ve seen True Confessions with DeNiro and Duvall, but never the singular 1937 screwball comedy. I couldn’t, however, resist the featured image of the stars in the slammer even if Fred’s mustache is unfortunate.

The Impeached Insult Comedian was in Conroe, Texas telling tall tales last weekend. He lets go in these rallies and mixes the truth in with his lies. It’s unclear if he can tell the difference at this point but the MAGA masses could care less: all they want is the red meat he throws the crowd.

This crowd included some weird luminaries according to a swell story by Rolling Stone’s Steven Monacelli:

From inside the press pen I was able to observe Michael Protzman, aka Negative 48, and over one hundred of his followers secure prime seats directly to the left of the stage. The Protzmanians arrived over a day early and began lining up for the event the night before, just as they had in Arizona. The group was in rare form, dancing and singing together. They wore matching red ties and shirts depicting Donald Trump, JFK, and JFK Jr. Prior to the event, Protzman predicted to his group that who they would be seeing speak at the event was not actually Trump but JFK in disguise — a claim they’ve made before regarding the Rolling Stones concert in Dallas, Texas.

I still don’t understand why JFK Jr. would come back as a wingnut but his cousin RFK Jr. sounds Trumpier by the day so maybe the Protzmanians are onto something. They even have merch:

I couldn’t find a better picture, but I wanted to prove that I am not making this up. I wish I were.

The Kaiser of Chaos has been a busy boy of late issuing threats and confessing to his crimes. Of course, he doesn’t think that election theft and prosecutor threats are a big deal. He’s ready to pardon every Dipshit Insurrectionist in sight if he returns to power. The Turtle poked his head out of his shell to disapprove of Trump’s pardon dangling.

All this talk of dangling has inspired a musical interlude:

I somehow doubt this will become the theme song of the Dipshits, but it nails their relationship with the Impeached Insult Comedian. He strings them along as long as they’re useful to him.

My favorite Trump tale this week involves documents and tape:

When the National Archives and Records Administration handed over a trove of documents to the House select committee investigating the Jan. 6 insurrection, some of the Trump White House records had been ripped up and then taped back together, according to three people familiar with the records.

Former president Donald Trump was known inside the White House for his unusual and potentially unlawful habit of tearing presidential records into shreds and tossing them on the floor — creating a headache for records management analysts who meticulously used Scotch tape to piece together fragments of paper that were sometimes as small as confetti, as Politico reported in 2018.

Donald the Ripper? It works for me.

Confetti? Bring on the Lemonheads:

Did you know that there are 25 tunes with Confetti in the title? Neither did I until I consulted with Mr. Google.

In his zeal to make the mid-term election about himself, Trump is handing a gift to Democrats. His way of saying the unsaid and doing the undoable has worked for him in dealing with the legal system. Politically, it’s only appealing to hardcore MAGA maggots.

The big question is whether Trump’s bluster and bullshit will lead to criminal charges. The evidence is building, and the 1/6 Committee seems determined to bring him down: Liz Cheney is as mean as her old man, after all. There’s one charge that could bar him from federal office: seditious conspiracy. Stay tuned.

All this confessing has given me the blues. The last word goes to BB King: