Irked In August

We begin with something that ‘s sad, not irksome: Tommy T’s departure from First Draft. I have no idea how he was able to do the Freeper series for fourteen fucking years. I lack the intestinal fortitude to dive into that particular cesspool. Besides, nobody could do it better than Tommy. He’s a hard act to follow as the song goes:

Make that impossible. That’s why we’re retiring the Freeper feature unless some masochist volunteers to take it on. We’ll miss you here at First Draft but you’re moving on to less irksome things, Tommy.

Speaking of moving on, there are many irksome things in the news, so let’s get to it.

I’m irked that Sam the Sham Alito thinks taking away a constitutional right is grist for his comedy mill. I usually approve of Boris Johnson jokes but not one chiding him for criticizing Dobbs. Alito is acting more like a wrestling villain than a Supreme Court Justice. He loves to be hated. I’m in that number. Putz.

I’m irked that Paul Manafort has the nerve to call his upcoming book: Political Prisoner: Persecuted, Prosecuted, but Not Silenced. He’s a criminal; accepting a presidential* pardon is an admission of guilt. Manafort is more like Al Capone than Andrei Sakharov. Schmuck.

Cue The Untouchables Themes:

Everything the Impeached Insult Comedian does irks me but his abuse of the presidential seal is especially irksome as he’s using it at the fakakta Saudi golf tournament in New Jersey: home of Dr. Oz.

The seal belongs to the office, not the office holder and it’s illegal to commercialize it. Additionally, I’m irked that Trump cheats at golf. Fat fuck.

I’m irked that the QAnon lady thinks that being a Christian Nationalist is a good thing. It’s a toxic combination as are these three names: Marjorie Taylor Greene. Moron, moron, moron.

I’m irked that the whole “gays are grooming kids” thing is back with a vengeance. Nebraska is ground zero for that pernicious nonsense. Pedophile is the worst thing you can call someone and now it’s frequently used by right-wing extremists. Fuck them.

They’ve almost spoiled this song for me:

How can I skip Skip Spence at a time like this?

I’m irked that the Magyar Menace, Viktor Orban, is speaking at CPAC even after his recent racial purity Nazi-style speech. A reminder that Hungary was allied with the Axis powers in World War II. America was on the other side; something CPAC honcho Matt Schlapp has either forgotten or never knew. He deserves a schlapp upside the head for inviting the Paprika Peril to address CPAC.

Where’s Captain America when you need him?

Let’s close on a lighter irksome note.

I’m irked by the Trump Burger joint in Belville, Texas. I am not making this up:

I’m surprised Team Trump hasn’t either demanded royalties or sued over the name. If I had standing, I’d sue over their so-called Greek Salad. I bet it has lettuce, which real Greek salads do not have. Hopefully, it doesn’t have celery. I hate celery. I’m also worried that I might be eating Dr. Smith of Lost In Space fame:

That image comes from one of the campiest teevee episodes ever, The Great Vegetable Rebellion.

I watched that episode again recently for the first time in many years. I noticed some Separated at Birth action involving Tybo, the giant talking carrot, who fancied himself a dictator and the man others call Cheeto Mussolini:

I’m irked that I haven’t done that before.

The last word goes to Frank Zappa and the Mothers: